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thewritetofreespeech · 4 years ago

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Words: 1900+

Rating: T

Pairing: Benimaru (TSSK) x Reader

Summary: Apparently alcohol makes Benimaru more honest about his feelings. And what he wants for the future.

AO3

Following your success with the Yuki-Oni, Rimuru-sama decided to send you on more ambassador excursions throughout the land.

You had been surprised, but warmed by his faith in you, and took your role very seriously everywhere you went. It was all very exciting. Seeing new places. Meeting new, important people. Sometimes you went with Benimaru, as you did before, but with his own important duties as Commander of the Jura forces, he couldn’t always go with you. It was difficult to be apart, but you made do for the good of your nation and whatever partner you had been paired with for your journey.

This time, it had been Shuna. You and your sister had enjoyed your visit to the coast, to visit the seaside kingdom that lay on its shores. It was the first time either of you had seen the ocean. It was incredible. It was also nice to get away from the excitement of Rimuru, if only for a little while. You loved all your friends, its people, your family. However, you would be the first to admit they could be a bit over the top sometimes.

Like the feast they had insisted on throwing for you both upon your return.

“I don’t see why they’ve decided to throw a party for us.”

“You and Shuna were missed.” Rimuru-sama answered when you, playfully, bemoaned all the ruckus. So much for your peaceful, seaside atmosphere. “It’s been dark days in Rimuru without either of you to brighten them up. I’m sure everyone wants you both to know how much they appreciate you.”

“Flatterer,” you mutter at the humanoid slime, who just smiled at you with that cheeky little grin of his.

Rimuru-sama asked you to speak with him before going to the party. He wanted to get the details of your visit, and treaty with your new allies, down before they got lost in the shuffle. You were happy to oblige. You did wish you could see Benimaru first though. You had missed him so. You’d only got to see each other for a moment upon your return before you were pulled in opposite directions again. It was hard being a power couple.

By the time you and Rimuru-sama were done, it was getting very late.

The party was in full swing. Music, dancing, food and drink, all filled the center courtyard as people gathered to enjoy the festivities without a care. But where was Benimaru?

“[Y/N]!!”

Oh dear….

Benimaru repeated your name a few more times on a loop as he tried to stand. Eventually getting to his feet, even if you have to come over to him to help keep him there. “Ah~! It’s my wife!”

“Yes dear.” You tell him. Trying not to laugh at his hilariously intoxicated state.

“Where have you been?” He questioned with a small pout. His expression made even more adorable by his flushed cheeks. “I was looking everywhere for you.”

“And the last place you looked was at the bottom of a sake bottle?” Benimaru grinned wide at having been caught, but seems to understand, even in his clouded mind, that you were joking. “Rimuru-sama needed me for something, so I was delayed to the party. Honestly. I leave you alone for a few moments and this is what happens.”

“It’s not my fault!!” The ogre whined. The usually regal, serious leader of the Jura forces arguing with you like a child. “The dwarves! It’s the dwarves’ fault! They challenged me to a drinking contest and I couldn’t refuse. My honor was only line!”

“It most certainly was not!” You tell him. Genuinely irritated this time. He should know better than to challenge dwarves to drinking contests. Their stomachs were as bottomless as Rimuru-sama’s when it came to ale. “Come on. Let’s get you back home to sleep it off. The rest of you, this contest is over. By order of Rimuru-sama and his advisory.” The last sober one standing anyway.

“Hehe! That’s my wife! Rimuru-sama and I are so lucky to have such a capable woman in our lives. Have a drink with me to celebrate!”

“What did I just say?!”

It took a little bit more fumbling and dragging on your part, but eventually you pull Benimaru away from the party and back home. Not helped in the least by his stumbling feet, him banging into various walls, and nearly knocking you down every time he tried to lean on you.

“[Y/N], I don’t feel so good.”

“Not surprising. Since you drank a small lake’s worth of sake.”

The ogre grinned again. Squatting down to meet eye level with you with a drunken smile as you tried to get his outer coat off. “It was good though!”

“Most bad decision are at the time my love.”

He fell to his knees at that moment, so fast that you thought they had given out, but you realize it was intentional once he wrapped his arms around your middle and nuzzled the side of his face into your stomach. “Ah~ I love it when you call me ‘my love’. It makes me so happy. I love you so much too!”

You chuckle softly. Both in amusement and a little nervously. It was cute how honest he was being with his feelings, but you were a little concerned with how he was nuzzling his head against you that he might gore you a little with his horns. It hadn’t happened before. But there was a first time for everything.

“Yes, yes. I love you too.” You tell him as you place your hand on his head. Getting him to stop rubbing on you like a cat for a moment. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Ney, [Y/N], let’s make a baby.” Benimaru had turned to look up at you. Eyes glassy and unfocused, with a sort of soft innocents that didn’t really go with this conversation.

You don’t think for a moment he was being serious. Assuming he meant ‘make a baby’ as in ‘having sex’. So your reply was obviously, “I don’t think it would be very honorable for me to take advantage of you in this state.”

“No! Not that! I really wanna have a baby with you!” Apparently, he was serious. His expression shifted from soft, blank innocence to fierce determination (or as much as a drunk person could muster) so fast it made your head spin. And you hadn’t even been drinking.

“Benimaru, surely you can’t mean that. We can’t have a baby right now.”

“Sure we can! I can put a baby in you right now.” His arms untangle from you, but only far enough to start fumbling with the tie of your dress at your hips.

You let out a squeak and give him a good whack on the head. Rimuru-sama called it a ‘karate chop’ when he taught you. It seemed to do the trick as your husband flinched and fell back off of his knees onto his butt. “[Y/N]-chan doesn’t want to have a baby with me…..” Benimaru bemoaned sadly, rubbing his head.

“I…I didn’t say that!” You snap at him. Cheeks pink yourself now, and incredibly flustered. “I just don’t know where this is coming from all of a sudden. You’ve never said you wanted to have children before.”

“Of course, I want to have children with you. You’re my wife and the woman I love. Why wouldn’t I want to have children with you?” He replied, seeming to bounce back from being sad fairly quickly. How was he not getting a headache from all these sudden emotional shifts?

Taken aback by his soft words, you don’t say anything at first and Benimaru got back up on his knees to re-wrap his arms around you. “I want us to have strong sons to carry on my name. Girls too. I wanna have daughters as pretty as their mother. I wanna have enough kids to start a little ogre army. I wanna watch your belly swell as they grow inside you. Hold you while you carry my child.” You feel his lips press to your stomach near your navel. Clearly already picturing you ripe with child. “We can rebuild the ogre tribe that was taken from us. We can have a family.”

“I’m not giving you a village or a small army Benimaru.” You don’t have the heart to correct him on the ogre tribe being taken you. It had been taken from him, not ‘us’. A fact that you know still weighed heavy on his heart. He’d accomplished so much. Protected so many now. But his failure in his early life still haunted him. You or no one can give that back to him. “But…I wouldn’t mind starting a family.” A boy and a girl, with your eyes and his flaming red hair, would be nice.

The ogre looked up at you and beamed. He practically jumped to his feet and leaned in to kiss you. “Ah, ah! Not now! When you’re sober.” You tell him with your hand against his lips.

Benimaru pouted for a second before he grinned and nipped at your fingertips foolishly at his lips. “There’s no harm in practicing now.”

“You’re drunk.” You remind him.

“Not as much as I was a little bit a go.” An outright lie. “Besides, as Rimuru-sama says ‘practice makes perfect’.”

“I repeat: you are drunk.” You say again. Bating his clinging hands away from your form. “Besides, besides, I don’t think you could even preform in this state with how much sake you drank.”

“You question my virility at your own peril woman.” Benimaru ‘warned’ and you karate chop him on the head again. Lighter, this time. More to stop that train of thought than stop him in his tracks.

“Keep it up and I’ll be sleeping in Shuna’s room for the night, and you’ll be sleeping in the barracks for the rest of the week.” The terrifying flame lord looked mortified with his mouth ajar, before shook his head and beg you to let him stay. “Can you behave now and go to bed amicably with your hands to yourself?” He nodded furiously. Just seeming happy to be allowed to stay.

You both get into bed and Benimaru shyly asked if he could at least hold you. He said he agreed to keep his hands to himself, but didn’t know what that all meant, and he missed you with you so far away. So far away being: the other side of the bed. You scoff once and shook your head before you curl into him. Resting your head against his chest.

Your husband seemed to immediately relax and fall asleep when your head touched him. His breathing even under your ear as your ‘pillow’ rose & fell. You lay awake for a little while longer. Thinking about your conversation. You have to wonder if he was serious. But, then again, he seemed serious enough. And as they say, in wine there is truth. There was a possibility though that the ‘liquid courage’ had also made him more ready for children than he really was.

Your hand trailed away from Benimaru’s chest to your own stomach. You picture a bump there. The start of your child flourishing inside you. Your husband’s face, soft with adoration, as it pressed against your stomach to listen to their heart beat when it had grown and was almost ready to be born. The thought made your own expression glow in adoration. Maybe it was time for you both to start considering the future.

“Goodnight….Daddy.” You whisper to Benimaru, who only grumbles in his unconscious state back when you kiss him. “You’re going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning.”

#;pen & paper (fanfiction)#benimaru #benimaru x reader #benimaru tssk #benimaru (Tensei shitara Slime Datta Ken)#tensei shitara suraimu datta ken #tensei shitara slime datta ken #tensei shitara suraimu x reader #tensei shitara suraimu datta ken imagine #tensei shitara slime datta ken x reader #that time i got reincarnated as a slime #imagine #scenarios #random fandom

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anazen333 · 2 years ago

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Why Aren’t There Youtube Videos for ‘How to Deal with Harassment in a Martial Arts Studio’ ?

Because, quite honestly, there should be.

Some background, ‘real quick’.

I’ve actually been pretty lucky so far in all the places I’ve trained at. Though maybe because I’ve never been a grown ass woman training on my own before. Before this, I trained with my mom and sister, and it was during my middle school to high school years. I’ve been a white belt (level 1 newbie) four times now because we were constantly moving.

In my very first dojo, I was trained in both TaeKwonDo and American Karate by a Puerto Rican former military man. This man, my first Sensei, he was TOUGH. And he made sure his students, especially his female students, knew how to defend themselves. So he trained us hard, and he trained us to fight dirty (when it came to self defense in the real world. If you did any dirty fighting in the dojo, at the very least you’d be getting fifty fist pushups on the tile floor).

So even after bouncing from several other martial art styles and quite a dry spell, when I joined the TaeKwonDo studio I’m currently at, I was actually way better than a white belt. After all, I had been three belts away from earning a black belt in TaeKwonDo and American Karate at my first dojo. And my current instructor recognizes this and is quick to praise how quickly I’m picking the skills up again. I even managed to rank up to the next belt in less than a month!

I was really enjoying myself. After all, I had taken martial arts up again not for the prestige, but for the exercise and community. And even as an awkward kid, I always felt at my most confident throwing punches and breaking boards.

And then some twit showed up and had to ruin it.

This dude, we shall call him… Bob, enrolled about three weeks after I did. Right off the bat I could tell this dude had never trained in any martial arts before. The guy’s technique is very clumsy at best, and sloppy at worst. I don’t mean to disparage him. He’s only a white belt, after all. I don’t expect him to have a honed technique. Especially since he doesn’t seem to be taking the training seriously (or at least, as seriously as I am. My first sensei made sure I never threw a punch or kick that wasn’t peak form).

So what’s my deal with Bob?

In short, so many things.

The long of it is that I’m starting to feel like he’s lowkey harassing me.

Since we’re both the lowest belts in the class (and we’re lined up by rank) we often end up next to each other during stretches/training, and are taught new techniques together.

(Quick question, if I dude is grunting during a workout next to a woman, is that a creepy gym guy move? Or am I reading into it too much? Because I feel like he grunts a lot when we’re stretching and doing situps/pushups next to each other. And I don’t hear any of the other men in the class grunting).

So besides the awkward grunting, he’s also given me a hard time for not being able to do a full situp, and even saying I didn’t do the require number of situps just because I finished before him (let’s see you do a full situp with double D cups on your chest, dude).

But the thing that’s been building up is his constant harassing me about going to the sparring classes.

At my current studio, you can decide how many classes a week you want to attend. I attend the two adult classes regularly (which, I might add, Bob does not). Then there’s an option to join one of the sparring classes for those who are interested.

When I first started martial arts, I was just a kid. I hadn’t even hit puberty yet, and was still pretty small. Sparing was for the older students who could be trusted to hold their punches back, or at least be more responsible in the event of an accident. My mom did some sparring, and she told me about how scary it was at first. And how she accidentally almost hurt one of the teen boys because they underestimated her and she didn’t have a good grasp on controlling her strength yet (I like to say I get my valkyrie genes from her).

Combine that with my base instinct to get physically violent when pushed to my limit. (Seriously, growing up, I used to bite kids who angered me). Needless to say, I don’t feel I’m ready to take on sparring until I know I have full control of my body. Right now, I’m still getting back into the swing of things; learning how to aim my punches and kicks, and getting a sense of my limbs' reach. I’m not ready to spar.

And this (insert your choice word for a cocky, delusional, disrespectful, creepy dude), has been harassing me about not going to the sparring sessions since he got here. Because he’s been going to these sessions and keeps asking why I’m not going.

Actually, he’s not asking. He’s guilting and harassing me.

Because his pitch to get me to go, whenever I have repeatedly told him I’m not ready to go, is usually along the lines of: “You should come. I’m just a white belt and I’ve been going since I started. Why don’t you come-?” IN THE MOST CONDESCENDING VOICE IMAGINABLE.

Now, I regret being nice to him. I regret helping him go over katas/forms. I regret politely listening while he complained about the studio (that he’s attending with me right now) and how he might have to attend another studio just so he can learn punches (because this gift to the world didn’t read the sign on the front of the studio that says in BIG LETTERS how TaeKwonDo is known for its powerful KICKS). And most of all, I regret not shutting him down the first time he harassed me about not going to the sparring sessions.

We are NOT friends. He’s NOT entitled to an explanation from me about my personal reasons for not attending the sparring sessions. And he needs to STOP HARASSING ME ABOUT IT.

I spent most of last evening ranting about it to my mom and bestie, and then tossed and turned during the night going over rage induced fantasies where I do attend one sparring session, thoroughly kick him off his ass (with a few broken bones and at least a bleeding nose) - which doesn’t get me banned from the studio because the head instructor was on my side during this fantasy.

So to anyone out there that might have some words of wisdom: what do I do to get this @#$%^& to leave me alone?

#taekwondo #taekwondo woes #gym harassment #harassed as a woman #stop harassing people #conflict resolution #martial arts woman #female martial artist

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youalexturnermeon · 4 years ago

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Warm Beer and Cold Women Pt.3 (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Part 1

Part 2

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: Before you read you should know that I adjusted the timeline a little, all mistakes in the timeline that you are noticing are on purpose. Also I decided to let johnny keep his black Cobra Kai car in that one. Then I’m perfectly aware of the fact that I lowkey drifted away from the actual request but don’t worry, I’m coming back to that. It’s the second last part to this little series. Enjoy.

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, DUI, swearing, ANGST, a little fluff

Wordcount: 2650

"Jesus Christ, (Y/N), thank god you're finally here!" was the first thing you heard from Jenny as soon as you set foot into the bar for yet another late shift on a boring Thursday night.

"We've been waiting for you for hours!" Jenny said and grabbed your arm dragging you further inside. You were staggered, "What the fuck, Jen, I'm not even late, I know I was yesterday but I'm perfectly on time today! Look," you pointed towards a clock on the wall "8 pm sharp."

"Jesus, don't you ever check your phone?" she went on ignoring you. And as a matter of fact, you didn't. You trashed it a couple of days ago as a result of a drunk rage after another shift without your favourite regular. That's why you've been borrowing your colleague’s phone to call yourself an Uber home. But that was still not helping you understand why you were needed so much. Apparently, the bar was waiting for your arrival since the opening at last. In the distance, behind the almost empty counter you saw the staff door opening and Kenny making his way to you in a quick pace.

"She's is here!" Jenny called out to him as if he wasn't able to see that for himself.

"Finally."

"What the fuck?" you asked again, trying to think of all the things you could've done wrong in the past weeks, but you couldn't find any. You never messed up a drink, you always locked the doors, you even cleaned the puke in the men's bathroom. "Am I in trouble?"

Kenny shook his head, you looked at him quizzically.

"It's about your boyfriend," Jenny helped him out answering. You almost blurted out 'He's not my boyfriend' as it was already on the tip of your tongue because you were so deeply conditioned to say that. But when your glance skipped over the almost empty seats by the counter again, your heart suddenly skipped a beat and when it was back at keeping you alive it started beating so hard against your ribs as if it was about to burst. Johnny was back.

"He's been here since we opened at 5," Kenny said, sounding a little annoyed "He's drunk off his ass, came in drunk already, and refuses to leave until he sees you. We tried to throw him out but he's one persistent motherfucker and lowkey aggressive, muttering your name saying he needs to talk to you and nobody else."

"Yeah, maybe you should go and talk to him" Jenny affirmed. But you were already on your way. Without a word you almost stormed over.

At first you wouldn't have noticed him. He didn't look like himself, sitting there on his regular seat at the end, head hanging, covered by his hands. He looked rough.

The two weeks he didn't show himself, you almost started hating him. You thought him to be like any other man on earth who, after they broke you, finally got you to get soft towards them, waking your interest after hundreds of times trying, just disappeared without a trace. First you were blaming yourself, asking yourself if you went too far with your little game of pretend, whilst still waiting every day for him. Had it been too much for him saving you the other day and getting his face bashed in for you? You wished he'd come and tell you what a bitch he thought you were to your face. Then you despised him for giving you up so quickly. But as soon as you laid eyes on him all these negative thoughts disappeared, and you were just concerned. Concerned about his condition, only the question inside your head how on earth you, a simple barkeeper, were able to help him with that. You grabbed a bottle of whisky and simply headed to the other side of the counter, not standing in front but sitting next to him this time. The worst about it, he didn't even take notice of you at first.

"Johnny," you said softly placing a hand on his arm. Like being electrocuted by this touch, he winced but finally looked up. You almost gasped at his appearance. Normally he was always clean shaven, now he looked like hadn't shaved in days. Besides that, he was also hurt. At first you thought his injuries might still be from his encounter with the three men that were bothering you, but the scratches and bruises were fresh, and a band aid was sticking to his forehead that wasn't needed before. Johnny blankly stared at you from his bloodshot eyes and you suddenly felt the urge to hug him. But you resisted, first you had to get him to talk. Instead, you grabbed two of the glasses in front of Johnny uncorked the bottle of whisky and poured you one. You took a sip of the burning liquid hoping for some courage to miraculously appear as you watched Johnny silently drinking, too.

Kenny walked by on the way back to his office, judgingly eyeing you.

"Damn, I have to start taking all the booze you're drinking here from your paycheck, (Y/N), slow the fuck down, would you?" he said sighing with one foot already inside. Out of a sudden Johnny snapped.

"Jesus Kenny, don't wet your precious leather pants," he shouted out, slamming his glass on the counter "I'm gonna pay for it! Let a girl enjoy her drink for once" Some heads turned in your direction.

You held still for a second and didn't dare to breathe, afraid of another fight to happen since normally Kenny didn't allow anybody talk to him like that. But he simply shook his head and closed the door behind him, muttering something like "This girl actually has to work here, but whatever" leaving you alone with Johnny.

"You look hot, as always," he said trying to smile, yet the smile didn't reach his sad eyes. He almost looked like he's been crying.

"And you look like shit."

"You mean that?" he gestured at his face noticing your gaze upon his massive black eye. You nodded.

"That's nothing."

"What happened, Johnny?" you asked but he did not answer and just kept on sitting in silence, sipping his drink from time to time. Then, after what seemed like forever, he finally looked you straight in the eyes.

"I fucked up, (Y/N), that's what happened, I fucked up big time."

"Tell me!"

"As if you give two shits about it, you probably wouldn't care. You fucking despise me and my sorry ass."

"I do care!"

“Nah, you wouldn’t!”

You sprung off your seat, you did not expect that coming out of his mouth, also it hurt to hear him say that, because you really did care about him! You probably cared about him more than anything in your life at the moment. But if he was going to be a bitch to you so were you.

“Well, don’t waste my fucking time then!” you exclaimed “And stop annoying everyone that you need to see talk to me instead of fucking off. I can gladly leave you all by yourself so you can keep on pitying yourself. Nice seeing you, jerk!”

And you were about to storm off, go back to pretending to work just like you did every other day when there was nothing else to do, when you instantly heard a “(Y/N), wait!”

You turned around and saw Johnny, now more miserable than ever, showing at your seat inviting you to sit back down. You swallowed your pride and did so.

“I’m sorry,” he said “I just can’t believe that someone would actually give a shit about me at all. And I did want to talk to you, I still do. You’re the only one I want to see right now.” “Then tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s this kid,” he started sighed and stopped, then took another sip of his whisky and began again “I have a dojo in a strip mall, I’m a sensei,” “What’s that?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and you felt stupid. Johnny looked at you, completely staggered, forgetting his pain for a moment. Proving you that it was in fact a probably very stupid question.

“It’s a Karate place, I teach Karate there.”

“Go on.”

“I have a shit ton of nerds that I teach but they’re mostly good kids, they got bullied a lot before, but I helped them, I showed them how to kick ass, so no one dares to fuck with them anymore. There’s this one kid, Miguel, I’ve been teaching him since the beginning, he actually gave me the idea to open a dojo, he begged me to and he’s a great kid, he really grew on me. He lives next door with his mom and grandma, they’re great people, Mexicans. I even learned a bit of Spanish from them. And I’ve been hanging out a lot with him lately. I really, really liked him.”

He rubbed his eyes and stopped talking.

“What do you mean you liked him?” you asked carefully and studied Johnny’s face that he covered with his hands again.

“There’s more to the story. There’s another dojo in town, fucking Miyagi-Do. Of course, you can’t expect only one dojo to be there in L.A but how I wish that at least that one wouldn’t exist. The sensei is a twat. I fucking hate this guy. And his kids started fighting with my kids at school and not like throwing some punches at each other and leaving it be after somebody starts crying. No, they started a fucking Karate War at school. I mean, I get it, when I was their age I also took Karate way too seriously but letting it go this far? I don’t know, I can’t really understand that. It got out of hand real quick two weeks ago.”

“Fuck, did something bad happen?” you wondered and poured yourself and Johnny another whisky.

He nodded and stared into the distance. You waited for him to answer.

“There was a fight two weeks ago and apparently it got really bad. Miguel got kicked off a balcony at school, he fell two stories deep, spine-first onto a handrail.” You gasped. You school also had problems with fighting, a lot to be precise but as far as you knew, no one got kicked off from somewhere.

“He’s been in a coma now for two weeks and they say that the chances of waking up from a coma after two weeks are pretty miserable. He might as well be dead by now.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” you said although not knowing shit about coma, you just wanted t comfort Johnny. You could not stand seeing him so broken you even wished he would go back to his old nature again, hitting on you, joking and just having a good time “He’s probably going to wake up soon and go back to Karate again.”

“You don’t know that!” Johnny said raising his voice, “He broke his fucking spine, (Y/N), even if he wakes up, he’s probably going to be crippled for his whole life.”

He took a deep breath and drank his whisky at once, grunting at the burning feeling in his throat.

“And now my own kid is in fucking juvie for kicking Miguel of a railing and he won’t even talk to me!”

“Wait, you have a kid?” you wondered and stared at Johnny wide-eyed, not knowing what else to say, this was surely a surprise for you. And Johnny went on with his rant.

“Yeah, Robby, he’s 17. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s locked up, doesn’t want to hear a word from me, but that’s okay,” his voice was cynical, you could hear how much despised himself right in the moment and it was painful to see.

“I’ve been a shit father anyways, right? Every single day of his life I’ve been failing him. I wasn’t around much. I did nothing to keep him out of trouble. If so, I only made it worse, I only pushed him to train with Miyagi-Do and what happened to Miguel is all on me.” Despite calming himself down with a drink, Johnny’s voice got louder with every word he spoke. Again, heads were turning towards you, but you didn’t care.

“It’s not your fault what happened,” you said calmly and placed a hand on his shoulder, he was so tensed that you might as well have been touching a stone. And Johnny shook your hand of and let out a hateful laugh.

“Not my fault?” he shouted his lungs out “Who else’s fault is it then? Of course, it is mine. It is all on me, I fucked up. I fucked up both Robby’s and Miguel’s lives and on top of that mine’s not that great either. I spent the night in a fucking cell.”

“Calm down, Johnny,” you said softly and finally went in for a hug “It’s going to be okay; I promise!”

“No, it’s not!” he yelled as you wrapped your arms around him tightly pressing yourself against his trembling chest. At first, he let his arms sink and didn’t do anything, he kept on shouting, making even more heads turn towards all the noise, but then suddenly he buried his scrubby face into crook of your neck and sighed, finally placing his hands on your back, finally relaxing, firmly embracing you. You could’ve stayed like that for ever.

“C’mon, (Y/N), get him out of here!”, you suddenly heard Kenny who stood there, arms crossed, watching you, “He’s scaring off the people.”

You released Johnny from your hold who went back to staring down the counter whilst burying his face in his rough hands, just the way you have found him.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll bring him home.”

“Yeah, sure, feel free to come back to work whenever you’re ready, no rush. Or maybe you want to do home office instead?” said Kenny sarcastically and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon Kenny, I can’t let him go home like this alone, he’ll kill himself on the way. Besides, he’s probably the reason this place still hasn’t gone bankrupt. And I’m the reason he keeps coming, so maybe we owe him that?”

The big biker in front of you didn’t look too happy but he knew you were right, still, he wasn’t that easy to convince.

“Come on,” you said putting on your best puppy eyes, trying to look all cute because you knew the old man liked you deep inside “I’ll do double shift tomorrow, I promise. But just please let me go.”

Kenny stood motionless.

“Please?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll cover for you. But if you don’t come in early tomorrow…” “I know, I know, you’ll fire me” you finished his sentence and smiled at him.

Then you nudged Johnny who was not getting any of the conversation you just had and told him about your plan about getting him home. He stood up and he clearly wasn’t very strong on his feet. He was swaying from side to side on the way out.

“Okay, give me your keys, Johnny,” you said when you arrived at his black dodge. Normally you would have made fun of the yellow stripes and snakes all over, but you weren’t in the mood for it.

“I think I remember you telling me that you don’t have a license anymore and that you’re not willing to get involved into DUIs anymore.” And yet he submissively handed you over his car keys. You shrugged and got in the car, waiting for him to take the shotgun seat.

“I guess we all have to make exceptions sometimes. Now concentrate and lead me the way.”

“Thank you” Johnny said, his voice now all raspy and he suddenly looked tired “Now you are saving my ass.”

**************************************************************************************

PART 4

Already working on part 4 whether you like it or not, I’m too invested in that one

Sorry to all waiting for their requests to be written, I’ll soon be on it

Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @lililolli (you want to be on the taglist, too? drop me a message)

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence imagine #johnny lawrence x you #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #johnny lawrence angst #johnny lawrence fluff #karate kid #karate kid imagine #billy zabka #william zabka

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jack-is-lost · 4 years ago

Text

PATCHES & PINS (CH 1)

A/N: This story revolves around a transgender, female to male, original character. LGBTQ+ topics are a given within this story. Gender and body dysphoria will come up as well since he is not out to his family — only close friends. If you dislike such a story premise please understand you do not have to interact with it at all. Leaving hate comments will be removed. Of course, constructive feedback is always welcomed.

Pairing: Eventually Marko x OTMC

Story is still in progress and updates will be slow

Eventually it will be posted on A03 once I’m a few chapters in

Currently on Chapter one | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 coming soon

Chapter one

My life, for the most part, has always been unusual — a little different. Despite having parents that looked like any successful mom and dad ought to, and an older brother willing to stick up for me, things just didn't go according to plan.

You see, my mother was excited to have a daughter finally. Someone to doll up and buy dresses for, maybe even enroll in a dance class. A stark difference to her firstborn, Tyler, who was all about karate lessons and throwing the ball with dad. Which eventually evolved to working on cars as he grew older. Our mother wanted somebody to share girly interests with, understandably. And, for a while, she was able to have it. The baby pictures are proof of that. Yet, as I grew older and became more aware of what I liked, the fewer things seemed cookie-cutter-perfect for my family.

"Are you not taking your bag to school, Jacklynn?" The mentioned item was nowhere in sight as the youngest of her children poured coffee — the action resembling someone needing every drop left in the pot as if to survive.

"It's the last day," came the grumbling response after a long, soothing sip. "I doubt most kids will even be showing up."

"Yeah, about that," Tyler, the oldest, spoke around a bite of toast. "Can't I be a minority and just stay home?"

"No, you only have one day left, guys." She smiled at her two kids. A graduate who had already filled out college applications, and is ready to further his engineering career. The other, soon-to-be senior, that seemed to have no real drive in anything but drawing and reading — and staying up too late apparently.

"Seriously," she spoke up again as they sighed in unison, deflating with their last hope crushed. "You two will survive."

Tyler nudged his sister, who leaned across the counter, jostling the coffee dangerously enough to receive a seething glare. "Want me to take you?"

It wasn't like Tyler to offer that too often, "Sure."

They both pulled away from the kitchen and made their way to the door, hollering goodbyes as Tyler grabbed the keys — the other sibling still nursing the coffee.

"Don't stay out too late!" Their mom called back, knowing full well she wouldn't see her kids after school. It seemed the closer summer drew in — the fewer tests to study for and homework to do, the more they came home later.

Tyler stepped into the car, unlocking the passenger door as he slid inside his cherry baby — A beaming red, 1983 Audi Sport Quattro, followed by his sister plopping down less elegantly. He glanced at her while starting the car.

"Talk to me, Jay." It was the last day, after all. Weren't kids supposed to be excited about that? "What's bouncing 'round that head of yours." He barely received any notion his sister was listening till she drew out a long sigh, head hitting the back of the seat.

"I don't know, man." It was drawn out, tired. "Didn't get much sleep, I guess."

Tyler nodded while giving the steering wheel a turn, making his way down the road. The school building wasn't very far when on wheels, and he pulled into a parking lot marginally less filled than it ought to be.

As his sister made to get out, he placed a hand on her shoulder, their eyes meeting as she paused halfway out the door. "Ever need to get a chip off your shoulder come talk to me, okay?" Her eyes rolled to the side, and Tyler gave her a little reassuring squeeze, "I'm serious. What are big —"

"— bro's for? I know, I know."

Tyler chuckled as he released her shoulder, "Good. Now," he slammed the door shut and leaned over the roof, "Go sleep in class or something." That at least drew a chuckle out of his sister as she turned away from the car.

The last day of school went how one could expect it to go. Some teachers put on movies and had extra treats for their students. Others went over lessons in the last semester, hoping it would stick to impressionable minds before three months of freedom — minds that were only thinking about freedom and not math.

It was by mid-day when a note made its way into Jay's locker. In gruff, almost unreadable handwriting, it merely said, 'Meet us by the big tree'. Jay instantly knew who it was from and folded the paper up.

A long night was probably ahead.

When the final bell rang, Jay had to wipe the drool off an impromptu pillow-desk before heading out and down the hall. Many of the kids loudly boasted about their summer plans while cleaning out lockers, jostling each other, and hurrying outside. Jay maneuvered around the hoard and quickly escaped out a side entrance, locker already empty since lunch.

It didn't take long to walk a block to the park, down a jogging trail, before splitting off into a cluster of trees. There, in the center of it, laid a large trunk of a dead tree. Upon it splayed out a makeshift map, bags, and — unsurprisingly, two brothers.

"Finally," Grumbled Edgar while raising his head, a red marker still poised over the map. "Where's Sam?"

Jay stared, unaware that Sam was supposed to tag along for the stroll after school let out. "Was I meant to wait for him or?"

"Forget it," came the short grunt, and Edgar was back to the more important matter at hand as Alan turned around to face Jay.

"I'm sure he'll show up. He's got the same note as you," he started to unravel what appeared to be a chaotic ball of cord in his hands. "Oh, hey—" he stopped as a thought struck him, "—Still a no go on the knife?"

Oh, not this again.

Jay leaned against the bare trunk, arms crossed and brow lifted. "Alan, we've been through this. Keep me on the books, but hand me a knife, and someone will lose a finger."

Of course, no one knew if Jay meant their fingers or not, and that was on purpose.

"Maybe some training will help," Edgar spoke up again, pausing on circling locations. "You need to prepare yourself for—"

"— the unexpected. I get it, Ed." Jay cut him off while peering closer to get a look at the map.

"Edgar," he corrected with a tired mutter despite it being useless. They've known each other for an entire year now. One would think it wouldn't matter at this point.

Jay tapped a finger on the closest circled spot, the cemetery. "Thought you marked this off?"

"One can never be certain," He nodded to his own words of wisdom. "It is a common ground for the dead."

"I'd say," Jay suppressed a snort, "It is where the deceased go to be laid into the ground."

Rustling noises announced Sam’s arrival as he pushed through, almost smacking himself in the face with a thin branch. His strained voice drew attention to him. “Guys,” he dusted a leaf off his overly styled coat, “We really need to find a better spot to meet.”

Jay lazily offered a salute wave, “Hey to you too, Sammy.”

“I’m serious,” Sam huffed while taking up a spot near Alan, hands shoved into his pockets. “What about the shop? Y’know, with school now over and stuff?”

Edgar grunted in thought. “Yeah, that ought to be doable.”

“Your grandpa still against us being at the house?” Alan spoke up.

Sam gave a partial shrug. “Sort of,” he eyed the map, then glanced at Jay, who returned the unspoken question with a tired look. Sam returned to explaining when Edgar motioned for him to continue. “You guys can visit, as you have, but you can’t — you know —” he shuffled his hands for the right phrasing, “— bring hunting business there.”

Jay had never actually been to Sam’s place, but the stories shared made it sound like a lot of stuff went down there — destroying property kind of stuff. So Jay could understand what the man was trying to avoid. The Frog Brothers being walking time bombs of destruction, after all.

“The cemetery again?” Sam squawked at noticing it. “I am not doing that again.” The sound of Jay snickering redirected Sam’s defiant stare. “Make Jay do it this time.”

“Wait, wha—”

“—He doesn’t have the qualification for it, Sam.” Edgar cut in before an argument could occur. This only made Sam huff, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

“So? I didn’t either last year.”

Alan stopped weaving the cord at this point, placing it down on the dead trunk. “Jay needs the experience. It could be good for him.” He simply spoke, agreeing with Sam.

“Hey, Jay’s right here,” he had pointedly avoided parading around Santa Carla for a whole damn year. Sure, his knowledge of supernatural things is what drew the Frog Brothers to him in the first place — and the free charge of ordering books at their shop kept Jay in the circle, but he was a good year older than them and didn’t feel like playing make-believe.

Sam smirked in the way that screamed challenging, “C’mon, Jay, or are you scared of the dark?”

Jay narrowed his eyes, “I know what you are doing.”

“Then prove me wrong,” Sam continued.

“No.”

Despite that, Jay found himself amongst the dead at one in the damn morning. It was eerie, the cemetery, sitting in absolute silence and blanketed by a coat of darkness. The only noise now filtering through was shoes scrapping against the ground and low grumbles around him, voices hushed as not to alert anybody — or anything. Even their flashlights were ordered to stay off unless it called for it, as directed by Edgar.

“Exactly what should we be expecting to find here?” Jay spoke up quietly while trailing behind the two brothers, hands stuffed into his jacket. It was chilly tonight.

“Any signs of the undead.” Edgar simply said without much explanation, to which Alan filled in.

“Disturbed graves, tombs broke, drag marks.” he ticked off like a list.

“Ah,” Jay deadpanned. “So zombies?” the brothers turned to him, the moonlight hitting their frames but leaving their faces shadowed. “What?”

“Could be vampires too.” Edgar simply grunted. “Fresh ones crawling out of their dirt bed.” Alan nodded along with his brother, and Jay sighed.

“Sure, yeah. That too,” It wasn’t like anything of the sort actually existed, but Jay would humor the guys. They put up with his oddities, after all, so he could continue to do the same for them.

“Didn’t any of your books mention that?” Edgar continued while turning around, walking along a worn-out path again, and avoiding stepping on actual graves.

“A little,” Jay admitted as they continued on their trek.

A majority of Jay’s supernatural books were all about how one became something, the signs, and lore behind creatures — not exactly if they crawl out of graves or not. It made sense, though, if considering how people feared vampires in the past. How they would stake and behead someone during burial just in case their loved one decided to raise again.

Same could be said about leaving a bell.

Alan suddenly crouched down near the edge of a grave. “Look,” his flashlight clicked on to bask the empty hole in light. Edgar followed promptly as Jay stared at the two figures eyeing an obvious dug hole for a burial happening soon.

“It might be a sign.” Edgar rubbed a finger over the crumbling edges, dirt smearing and falling back inside the pit.

“Or,” Jay leaned over them to get an exact look at the perfect outline, “It is the groundskeeper getting ready for a funeral. There’s not even a casket down there.” Jay simply summarized before leaning back.

Alan clicked off the light and stood, “He’s right, Edgar. It is too perfect.”

“Hey!” the voice resonated out, cutting the muffled talking off as a beam of light frantically flailed in their directions. “What are you kids doing?!”

Without a shared word between the three, just mere glances at one another, they quickly split. Or at least Jay tried to do just that, but the brush of Edgar flying past him in a rush entirely threw him off balance. It wasn’t until tailbone smashed into dirt that Jay even figured out what happened.

“Fuck…” he muttered, then covered his mouth as the light grew brighter over the grave from above, rushing footfalls growing closer before fading away in the direction the brothers ran. Once it was clear, the curse slipped again with more fever.

Jay eased to his feet and stared above his head, the wall towering almost a foot over him. “They truly mean six-feet-under,” he muttered while raising a hand to the ledge, just able to cup fingers over the lip, only to stumble back as it gave away.

The recent rainfall was not making it easy.

Again Jay tried to grab, shoes scraping along the wall in an attempt to gain some height — thinking if he just rushed up the wall it would give him enough momentum, only to fall back against the adjacent wall.

“Shit — fuck,” Jay didn’t even care if his voice traveled that time. He was stuck in a damn grave, after all! Screw it!

“Need a lift?” came a voice from above, and Jay shot his gaze upward to see a hand reaching down toward him. The moonlight didn’t offer much else to see but light curls and the frame of a coat.

Even if it were the security guard, Jay knew this would be his best bet. It wasn’t like waiting till daylight to be discovered was an option. It would not help much in regards to needing to be home before Jay’s parents could find out he even snuck out.

He reached for the hand, feeling leather against palm and uncovered fingers wrap around his wrist. It took only one good heave, shoes against the wall and other hand clinging to the edge, to be entirely pulled out. Despite mud caking Jay from front to back, he could even feel it in his shoes; it felt good to be back on the surface. It wasn’t like he had a fear of enclosed places, but it still sucked regardless.

“Thanks,” he looked over at the stranger, still only catching the slightest glimpse of a smirk within the darkness. It was hard to make out any features, and the way the guy stood didn’t help anything.

“Were you takin’ a dirt bath?” he joked inquisitively, and Jay chuckled under his breath.

“No, not exactly.” Who would want to do that in a cemetery anyway?

The beam of a flashlight washed over them again as rustling sounds drew near, and Jay stepped away from the pre-dug grave. Definitely not wanting to repeat that incident all over.

“Looks like we should start running,” spoke up the other guy, head turned away from Jay to peer toward the security guard.

What was once hidden was now lit up like a spotlight. A smooth curved jawline, willowed eyes bright with brown, and curly dirty blond hair glowed on display for a split moment. Until the flashlight jostled by the running security guard fanned over the area. And Jay would be lying if he said he didn’t stare.

“Avoid any more holes, yeah?” he easily teased before seemingly stepping in a direction with no real speed.

Jay floundered for a moment before taking off after him. “Wait.” Jay didn’t know the grounds that well, and the two idiots that did had left him.

The guy laughed while reaching behind him, grabbing Jay’s wrist again with no problem, then started to run as the worn-out guard hollered something. He seemed to avoid any lifted tombstones, flower arrangements, and small fences like it were daytime. All while Jay tried his best not to stumble, gaze more on the ground than anywhere else.

When they neared the exit gate, chained to prevent people at such odd hours to visit, he let Jay’s arm go and placed both palms out while crouching down. Jay didn’t have to ask and quickly stepped into the waiting hands. He felt the guided push upward as his own hands grabbed for purchase, trying to avoid being nicked by the gothic-style fence. Yet, as Jay’s leg swung over, his pants snagged and ripped — the gravity of his body spilling over the other side holding little resistance.

Surprisingly Jay landed on his feet, if not a little wobbly, and quickly looked through the fence to see the guy still standing there undeterred. “You coming?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he simply said. Jay wanted to comment, but the sight of the guard pushing past the nearest tombstones shut him up. “Go.” he laughed again — actually laughed as if nonplussed by the whole thing. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep him distracted.” Then he turned around and fanned his arms out as if directing air traffic before darting down the side of the fence.

And that was the last Jay saw of the guy before quickly hiding behind the bushes lining outside of the cemetery, not wanting to be seen as the flashlight shown in his direction.

The walk home was slow as he picked flakes of mud off his jeans. Jay could feel the dry mess on his face and in his hair. A shower was needed as well as a talk with the Frog Brothers tomorrow. No way were they getting off free from abandoning him in the damn graveyard! Even as he climbed back through the bedroom window, Jay was envisioning how he’d throttle them. It wasn’t until he was in the shower, scrubbing extra hard to clean the grime off, that his thought wavered to the stranger.

“Why was he even there?”

#My writing #the lost boys #fanfiction #LGBTQ+ story #transgender fanfiction #Marko x OTMC #patches & pins

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thattimdrakeguy · 5 years ago

Note

I’m writing this fic about the Batfamily and I’m afraid of writing them as OOC. If you are able to, could you please give some tips on each of the Batfam’s personalities and characteristics? To specify, Dick, Jason, Tim, Steph, Cass, Babs, Damian, and Duke are the characters I’m using. It would be really helpful! Thank you!!

This is a tricky question, because I don’t know the story of your fic to help you in any specific way. So if after this you wanna DM me for more specific help on how to work things out, I’ll be there to help you right away unless I’m doing something, but I have no plans.

I’m going to go from easiest for me to do to least easiest, because I obviously know Tim the best, but even then, it’s hard, because going off the character’s you are choosing, it’s set during the part of the timeline were he went OOC, but I’ll do my best just to say his general character so you can use that as a base for things. Like how he was developed in his origin and all that, and notable characteristics he’s had as he grew while still in character. With some that even if they weren’t around with some of those characters, would apply to them.

His is also going to be the longest, like way too long, because he’s a way more nuanced and complex character than anyone ever gives him credit for. So he takes a lot longer to explains by a freaking large margin. Like sorry if it’s too big, I just kept saying more as more came to mind because I feel like his nuances are what makes him interesting and easy to right. Once you get a hang of his nuances, and you get used to it, it makes it easier to put yourself into his mindset to how he works, which makes him easier to write as well.

(THIS IS AN INCREDIBLY LONG POST, AND I APOLOGIZE. I just really wanted to be thorough and give contexts to stuff. It’s less of tips and more of an overly long description of what I know about each character and what’s in-character and what’s not going off of how the character’s were developed to be, and not counting the out of character writing. So really sorry about this being so freaking long)

Tim:

Tim’s origin right off the back is having met Dick at a very very young age, I don’t think he could even strongly walk yet, so I’mma say three. He was instantly attached to Dick, he just admired him instantly just for giving him affection. He was his hero. But he was also there the day Dick’s parents died, which traumatized Tim and gave him nightmares for years. But being able to remember that night so thoroughly, he remembered a specific move that Dick could do that very few could, and that’s how he found out Dick was Batman, and logically, Bruce Wayne was Batman.

There’s a large misconception that as a little kid, Tim followed Batman and Robin around, but that was not the case. At least not physically and literally followed them around. Closest being when I believe he happened to come across Batman in his origin story, and purposely did his best detective work to figure out where Dick would be.

As shown several times but most strongly in his origin, but wasn’t as strong the more he went on, he’s sort of socially oblivious to what’s considered normal or not, or what other people are thinking of him.

For instance he just knocked on Starfire’s and Dick’s apartment, asked Kori (Starfire) if Dick was home because he needed his help, and when she said no, just bolted even when Kori asked his name. Just concerning the crap out of her. Even when he first met Dick, he just wouldn’t say his name because “NO TIME”, he just squirmed around place to place on his bike being completely oblivious of himself. In his first miniseries he searches up information on Clyde (a former government agent he saved and befriends) that he shouldn’t have, unaware that that’d obviously be crossing a line for some people. Even taking his girlfriend to a car show, where there was a lot of bikini models around, and it didn’t even occur to him what it’d look like he was there for. He was just genuinely bubbly to see the cars.

He doesn’t do any of those sorts of things out of malice, he’s always just presented as being incredibly oblivious of himself quite a bit. Most likely from not having his parents around that much as his childhood progressed, and typically just living in boarding schools, or with a nanny. So he didn’t really developed right as one interpretation, and another being (that was actually almost confirmed if it wasn’t for Tim getting a writer before another could say it) is that he’s on the Autism spectrum. Which is technically verified, as he has many symptoms of Asperger’s. But that isn’t technically canon, as it never got to be officially said. But it’s valid enough.

Tim’s main strength is his detective work, he also knows how to use a computer to his advantage. Many modern comics act as if Tim is a master hacker who could hack into anything. But he actually mostly used them for detective work, and small hack jobs, some of which he failed. He seemed to have learned more about hacking from Barbara, or at least some what implied, as Babs let him help her build a big computer, or something of that sort.

He also took karate as a kid, and is implied to have also taken gymnastics. It’s stated that he’s actually really good at gymnastics by Alfred in Tim’s origin, but his fighting skills, despite the karate lessons he had previously taken, isn’t as good as the others. Hence his staff, and having to be clever in how he goes about a fight.

How Tim operates as far as emotionally or mentally depends too. Sometimes he’ll go straight from the heart and get himself in trouble, but other times he’ll take his time to really plan something out for himself on the spot. It depends on how his emotions are at the time. If he was just picked on or beat up, he’ll be more agitated, and if something really really bad that happened, he just go so far in he just beats the crap out of everyone as bad as he can. As shown by trying to apprehend someone that shot someone he knew at school, or Batman betraying his trust (in an honestly out of character story). If he’s calmer though, or at least doing his best to be, he’ll use his brain more before he starts. I think his talents in planning have been overstated for ages, because while he’s good at it, he’s not exactly the greatest or overall good. Just enough to work fine enough to get the job done.

One of his biggest mental weakness’s, is his constant insecurity. Somethings that’s so constantly on his mind is letting someone down, rather it be Batman or his dad Jack, or even Nightwing, or his team. The reason why Tim acted so different and more of a seriously brooding personality in Young Justice, was because he was so insecure about not having powers that he thought he had to push himself to his limits. So he used some Batman leadership tactics, and fought harder than he ever fought before just to seem like he was even worth having around. When by himself though, it’s more of a sadness, an upset feeling in his gut. Tim has anxiety about things, rather or not he’s good enough. He’s not a super confident person when it comes to himself. He doesn’t think much of him.

One editorial person answering fan questions in the back of comics as they used to, even described Tim as meek. He doesn’t brag or think much of himself as super according to it.

He’s also stated and shown to be internally scared quite a bit, even shaking when he first got his own Robin suit. Another occasion saying the cold water might excuse his shivering. Which goes along with his anxiety.

Another thing about him that is more low-key and not as noticed, is how Tim, even though he clearly thinks of himself as a kid, heck even the letter column above says so, he has also said since being Robin he’s never had time to be a kid. But he is also still a kid.

As they specified his voice a bit more, he tended to use heck, Holy crud, dang, fudge, weenie, and even Pus Bucket (a reference to Ghost Busters) as his choice of cussing (if that even remotely counts).

And even if it’s not noticeable at first, is shown as having a secret teddy bear that he kept hidden under his mattress so I assume no one would see it.

He’s also a pretty innocent kid despite what all he sees. His mind doesn’t go to the gutter. He trusts people far faster than he should, even trusting Lady Shiva, the world’s most dangerous woman and know criminal right away.

Even Tim’s step-mother saying so out-loud. Showing that this is also the case in his personal life as well.

It also goes along with his social obliviousness. This stuff being rounded into not having any street smarts, which was a main theme for Tim directly in his first miniseries. As well as being naive.

Of course as life went on that wasn’t the case as much, but in the above screenshot, Dana (his step-mom) is saying that as Tim is already 16.

Tim in-general also being a super hero fanboy. As a kid he watched the news, clipped out the papers on them, collected, and even drew his own Batman art (and potentially) others to put on his wall.

Tim’s general behavior while socializing also depends on his emotions at the time. He’s normally very nice and friendly, when not super depressed or down on himself he’s bubbly. But he’s also still a kid, he can pout when he’s hurt, and passive aggressive to people he doesn’t like. Examples being, literally not listening to a jock that picks on his friends, an over-arrogant jerk he met in France, and even Steph because she kept being reckless and flirting with him when he didn’t like it.

Nothing straight up insults, but just generally passive aggressive, give them a clue he doesn’t like them very much even if it never worked. He just wants them to go away, unless they’re a straight up bully. Tim, if it’s no one he specifically knows that will invade his personal life, will beat up bullies. He really can’t stand a bully.

Another thing about Tim is that even though he’s an introvert typically, he’s also not very shy. A shy kid wouldn’t travel miles on a bike (and I freaking hope busses) to meet someone he barely knows because he believes in Batman needing a Robin. He also stands up to bullies, and unless he’s really uncomfortable could talk to about anyone. He even slept in only his briefs and undershirt in the house of someone he doesn’t know, with two people he also barely knows. With that example also probably adding up to the socially oblivious part of his personality.

As far as his relationships go, he canonically thinks of the Bat-Family as his family. Dick calls Tim his little brother, Babs treats Tim as her baby brother as well as acting like his/ Aunt/ Mom depending on the situation (I think Tim fell asleep on her couch after eating pizza while using his cape as a blanket and drooling. So Mom’s a stretch but still), Bruce is his distant but still father figure, Alfred is his grandpa (who he actually plays video games with), even Cass to an extent treating Tim as a baby brother as well.

He is very much the baby of the family. And Tim talks to them about personal stuff (bar Cass cause he was scared of her in the beginning), most of them from Alfred and Dick, to the mute hunchback in the Batcave Harold (who is a real character and I love him). He was always collecting advice from where ever he could get it.

He’s also intensely morally operated. He hates killing. He said he took an oath to let himself be killed before ever killing, getting PTSD from feeling responsible for a death, and even crying when he had genuinely thought Bruce killed someone.

As far as how he tries to present himself, he is constantly doing his best to take everything as seriously as he can, even shunning himself when he starts to stop taking things as serious, he wants to be seen as serious, trustworthy, and reliable desperately so he doesn’t let anyone down. He is constantly hard of himself, and is always trying to be what he thinks Batman wants him to be. Which is were a lot of his anxieties from. Even trying to think of what Batman or Dick would do because he regards them so highly. Even calling Bruce the great man he’s ever known I believe during one of his post-origin pre-Robin appearances.

He’s naive and oblivious of himself, as well as childish in some areas (I think his nanny yelled at him once for it), but overall what he tries to hardest at is taking everything seriously as possible, and using his brain as much as he can. He may not be the most mature, often actually handling situations very immaturely, but he does his best to at least seem like he’s mature, and to an extent he actually can be genuinely very mature, or at least as much as a naive oblivious child can be.

Dick:

This ones a lot shorter probably, because I don’t read him as much, but still have a good handle on him.

I think he’s a character very few always write correctly, because they ride too much into the friendly, compassionate guy. Which, compassion being his main motivator in how he goes about as much as he can, and he’s incredibly friendly, he’s also a very angsty and angry person deep down.

He’s a perfectionist, a trait fics tend to give to Tim more, but actually belongs to Dick. He gets really hard on himself when he thinks he messed something up badly, having nightmares over it, he doesn’t like himself when he messes up something badly. And even if he’s not a naturally angry person, when he is angry, he can be VERY VERY angry.

And until Batman writers in the early 00s started it, I wouldn’t even had considered him all that chatty. He had some jokes in him, was very light hearted when not in distress or mad, but as he was developed by Marv Wolfman, who basically created the Dick that has remained the base for him ever since, he was relatively a generally calm guy when he wasn’t emotional.

He was polite, a charming guy, the type of person you want to bring home to your parents basically. He dressed well. Did his best to keep people accommodated.

He wasn’t a goofy, constant jokester that’d talk your ear off or keep begging for hugs.

He’s not that kind of guy. He’s just a gentlemen.

He’s also not that much of a thot. He’s a “wait till it’s right” sort of guy when it comes to sex.

He’d do anything in the world he could to make sure his friends felt right too, and that they were okay.

But all this doesn’t mean he’s not just a one note personality. Depending on how bad he feels like he messed up, he’ll distance himself from people, stop caring as much about his appearance, get more violent and mean. He also doesn’t take well to Batman’s nonsense, he’s probably the person he got specifically mad at the most. He didn’t like the way Batman went about stuff after a while. He had complicated feelings towards him.

Despite people nowadays just thinking of Dick being Batman’s son officially, adopted, end of. That wasn’t exactly their relationship. Dick had a complicated relationship with Bruce. Part of him looked at Bruce as a big brother, and another half a dad, and he wasn’t even adopted, just a ward. Something that Dick was actually quite insecure about, till apparently he got adopted as a grown adult man (which I dunno is true or an edit, but I’ve seen it somewhere).

Dick’s relationship with Tim is pure big bro baby bro. He was very protective of Tim, calling him the closest thing to a brother he ever had, and little brother, before they were ever even officially brothers. He’d push Tim out of the way in times of big trouble, make him stand back, ruffled his hair all the time, and loved teasing him. But when they started off, Dick just sort of thought Tim was a weird annoying kid, given that Tim was acting so screwy during his origin, Dick really didn’t know what to make of him, but the closer they got, they got very very close. Dick cared a lot about Tim a ton once they got accommodated. Tim would even call Dick on the phone just to talk to him about anything from his day to his problems. Tim could count on Dick to help when ever he could. Tim was Dick’s dweebie baby brother who he took care of when needed. Even teaching Tim how to wash clothes personally since Tim didn’t have a clue.

I don’t think him and Jason really had a relationship. He gave him a number to talk about stuff like Robin angst, and a few pics show they hanged out at least once or twice, but nothing suggests they were close. It seems like Dick was hard on himself, because Jason died before they could get close. After the Red Hood, Dick’s just kind of a-- dick to Jason, and Tim was too, but I don’t consider that in-character. Neither Tim nor Dick would be even remotely okay about the killing, but I can’t picture them treating him like he’s a joke and less than trash. Too much emotional baggage there. Tim would be distant to Jason, and Dick would be uncomfortable and conflicted. That’s my guesses on a more accurate relationship.

Dick’s always had a really big crush on Babs ever since he was a kid to the point they were stuck in a small area together and Dick lost dignity over-- I dunno, puberty effecting him. There’s no way I can put that that’s comfortable. But Dick has a crush on Babs, that got put into a romantic relationship both ways when they aged down Babs, but for some people the relationship is relatively gross because of the age gap, and feeling the need to age down a character like Babs, who just looked at Dick like a kid, to just date him. It’s complicated, and I dunno enough about them besides that exactly. I’m not the guy to ask on that.

He doesn’t have a proper relationship with either Duke or Steph, but it doesn’t seem like Dick’s ever been the fondest of Steph. And Duke’s new, and they only ever been around each other in fan service moments. So I don’t think he has a real actual relationship with Duke.

Dick and Cass despite I don’t think ever being shown much together, also had a sweet relationship. With Dick doing his best to make sure his sister (before she was adopted, but Dick treated her as one nevertheless much like Tim as Dick’s baby brother) was comfortable, acting goofy, and to me coming across as if he’s always really wanted a sister. But they weren’t super close, but there’s enough there to say that they easily could become close.

Dick and Damian was mentor mentoree, and to a large extent Dick was Damian’s father figure as Bruce was dead. As written by Damian’s creator, Dick didn’t seem to like Damian at all in the beginning, but as Dick could realize and understand his responsibilities more, they did gain a closer bond. Dick would put Damian in line (besides when bad writers were too afraid to make Damian seem like he’s in the wrong fully), sometimes even the hard way, and could be very proud of him. They aren’t big bro little bro like how some current writers act for pandering purposes. But they did grow to be close, even if Damian’s naturally really emotionally distant. Dick always wanted the best for Damian, even if he couldn’t always handle it the right way or knew what to do. He was a guy in his early to mid 20s with the responsibilities of reraising a 10 year old kid that was raised and abused by a cult, who can blame him.

Damian

I’m kind of just getting Damian out of the way, because to be frank, he’s been a really crappily written character since his origin, because he personality just absolutely switches between every writer, and he’s just so badly written that way.

But I’ll go off of what I believe to be what his writer wanted, since that’s the most accurate you can get.

Damian was raised and abused in a cult. That dictates a lot of how he thinks.

He was not close to his mother (which is out of character for Talia, and they later switched that after the reboot, but to be frank if Talia was always in-character Damian wouldn’t exist as we know him. He’d be a total different person and character). And he seemed to despise the way his dad goes about things. He seemed very indifferent and had his mood set to angry in general when he first met.

Which made it all the weirder when an issue later Damian seems to want his parents to be together, despite making it clear he doesn’t even like or think much of either one of them at all.

He was also very entitled, because despite being treated as an experiment some of the time, he was also treated as a prince the other half of the time. He thought the world was his, and he deserved everything.

He nearly killed Tim because he thought he deserved being Robin, as Tim was just adopted and not a “real” son. Seemingly he thought that was what he had to do to have his dad accept him and treat him as he thought he should.

He also seems to think he’s above Jason as well.

He’s also shown as sexist and homophobic.

He was brash and reckless about everything. Had a talented in just about everything just because of how he was raised, and goes off on his own to do stuff, because I assume he thinks everyone else holds him back.

After Dick though, Damian learned to not be a murderer (which I also think he might’ve learned before cause he wants to live with Bruce, It’s a little weird and not given enough time to actually be developed fully in an easy to digest way. Which is another reason why I think he’s such a poorly written character), also more reserved, and reckless.

As he was originally intended, he was very tall and not cute. His height being around 5′2 to 5′4 at age 10. Meaning he was an inch taller than Tim was at 13 when Damian was 10 off of that first one, and only an inch shorter than Tim at the age he met him, where Tim was 17 going on 18. It may not be drawn that way, but you also have to remember this is 00s and beyond era DC Comics were Tim despite being described as looking 12 got drawn as big as Dick sometimes. Don’t always use the art to go off of certain information. I say he wasn’t intended to be cute, because there’s a scene were he was at a gala, where a woman clearly wanting to gold-dig Gotham City’s most eligible Bachelor Bruce Wayne by getting close to her son, but she immediately backed away when she saw him.

Which sounds harsh, but Damian’s also basically the “anti-Robin”, he was everything a Robin wasn’t meant to be and he was intended to just die and that’s it. Hence why he was with Dick to keep the Batman and Robin dynamic intact, just in reverse. As you can see, they completely forgot what made Damian interesting when his character gained some consistency with his creator.

Damian’s development was that he grew a actual caring heart even if he still carried the generally same personality. He was dismissive of people, sexually harassed Steph, was generally anti-social-esque.

And honestly because every writer after (even the one everyone seems to think is his best writer, which I massively agree times a billion and infinite more) just kept reverting him, again and again, even when they wrote stories with character development, it was gone again. And applied a whole bunch of traits that aren’t like Damian in the slightest, so if you pay attention. Ya can tell Damian’s not Damian, he’s literally not even a shell of his self. They just painted another one to look kind of like him, and even then they don’t do that because he freaking looks completely different some of the time. They botched him so much.

But that was the main thing about Damian.

I think one reason he got close to Dick and no one else was because Damian from his origin (no matter how poorly written they showed it), always wanted to have a proper parent. Which it seemed he could never have. And Dick grew to serve that purpose, as Dick was the one teaching him lessons, and making sure he was actually safe.

But of course later on DC Comics literally forgot everything that was letting him slowly become a better character. So that sucks.

I partially came into this fandom because of Damian. So when I actually got to read him, I was so freaking miserable after. I genuinely wanted to like him so bad, even voicing that to people I was chatting too as I read the comics, but I literally just couldn’t see why anyone cared for his comics. I don’t think any of them are fully well-written.

But it did help me grasp what Damian’s suppose to be like as I could tell what he’s suppose to be and not suppose to be, much like how I learned about Tim’s actual personality vs the one writers that don’t care about him write.

Steph

Just doing this one to get a more negatively centered one out of the way, because I struggle to find any personality traits I deem actually likable when put under context.

Because she’s full of her self, reckless, cynical, more or less sexually harassed Tim, kissing him against his wishes (and before ya say Tim did that first. it’s a little less offensive when Tim didn’t do it sexually or romantically. That was just for a dumb trope. A reward kiss. It’s still gross, but it’s a different context that’s less directly offensive), goes behind people’s backs sometimes, can be emotionally abusive, and shows signs of physically abusive.

So I don’t exactly find her super likable. And her spot in the Bat-Family was so contrived, that often nowadays I just don’t pay attention her anymore, but in fairness a lot of that’s just cause she has crazy stans that start fights that were barely there, be hypocritical, and group bully folks. So it’s relatively hard for me to wanna look at her these days.

But to be more specific before she seems like an actual freaking demon woman or what ever. Some of that doesn’t come across as bad compared to what it could be. Besides the emotional abuse, that was just a thing and the comics and people just elected to ignore it even though that was written by her creator.

She’s reckless in a way where she clearly doesn’t have proper training to make sure no one or herself gets hurt. She’s been shown causing herself to get hurt or underestimate stuff. She also doesn’t listen to people that know more about what they do, and she usually relies on luck to get by.

She’s full of herself, because she more or less says she’s an adrenaline junkie, and might just be beating up bad guys because she finds it really fun and exciting. She likes the thrill. And tries to put a title of super hero on herself sometimes, because she tries to seem heroric as she does it. She also does it to make up for her dad, which is more admirable, but behavior wise and focus wise it’s more pinned on her just being an adrenaline junkie.

She also just constantly just flirt with Tim even when he didn’t want it. Which is what sexual harassment is. She also kissed him for her own satisfaction twice, once nearly getting them both killed cause people were shooting at them, and another as them and other people were close to freezing to death because they were stuck under snow. That kind of behavior able to be under sexual assault given the context for her kisses was just for herself. Even the time she tried to say it was to make up for Tim’s reward kiss, she quickly makes it obvious it was just because she’s very sexually attracted to him.

She also just nearly lets criminals die a lot because “What’s one more life”, and seems to not care much for the lesson of not killing, specifically her dad. Like she still has the moral standard not to kill, but compared to the others it’s not one she takes as serious. She learned her lesson on being cynical, but it’s still ingrained in her personality.

I also have a whole very long post on why her relationship with Tim doesn’t work, and how she was abusive. I don’t feel like going over that again but that’s a thing.

Besides Tim she has no real relationship with the others besides Cass, which is another relationship I don’t fully understand, because Steph borderline insults her, and Cass thinks she gets in the way so much she just fractures Steph’s jaw to knock her out. They gave them some admittedly cute moments, but it’s never felt right to me. Always felt forced and pandery, but it’s a thing. They’ve played tag each other, and talked about how both of their parents are abusive.

She also had one with in Batgirl, but the best I can describe that is, she helps Steph so she doesn’t hurt herself, and she can be pretty gruff sometimes, but is also caring. it’s just kind of a been there done that sort of thing.

A lot of Batgirl is sort of forced. Bat-Family has reasonable criticisms of her, writer does something to make them more unlikable so readers still like Steph, Steph proves them wrong, they respect her. It’s a formula for a few stories in her Batgirl run.

People have also said her and Damian have a sibling relationship, but I don’t agree with that. Damian sexually harassed her and kept looking at her boobs. Damian had a crush on her, but he was also a stubborn entitled jerk to her. Steph just got back at Damian by making him dress as a normal kid to embarrass him, and when she saw Damian never played before got him to jump on a bouncy castle. Besides generic banter that’s about it. And given Damian’s personality, they never did anything like that bouncy castle thing again. It’s a really big stretch to call that sibling-like. And even the stuff you could stretch is still doesn’t pay attention to the Damian talking about her boobs constantly thing. Parts of it was just pandery, as a lot of that Batgirl run was.

So I don’t overall have a good opinion of her. She’s perseverance and doesn’t give up, and won’t take no for an answer, but given the context it’s not in a good way besides saving Tim’s and others lifes a few times.

Babs

Despite having read her a lot I don’t know her a lot, because she’s typically always the other character in things. The lady that gets the information.

So I only know a few things about her.

She has the perseverance and won’t take no traits, but in a more positive context. She has no use of her legs but that doesn’t stop her from fighting crime and helping people.

She’s a serious, and mature personality. Every case is very seriously to her, besides a few Tim got into because they were just very goofy.

She can also joke a lot. She has a very teasing personality in her as well. Especially with Tim, she seemed to find Tim really cute and loved teasing him.

I pretty much only have panels of her and Tim besides a rare few maybe, cause as I said she’s mostly a side character helping out.

I have read Birds of Prey but that was possible a year or two ago, and I didn’t really pay attention so I’m not as sure.

She’s very leaderly, and will direct the traffic so to say. She’s a magnificent detective and hacker. Stands up for herself. Inquisitive. Her mind always seems to be thinking of the next thing to think about.

She’s a character I can’t talk about as well without it being one dimensional.

Cass

Cass is another character I don’t have the best grasp on but been trying to learn because she’s probably my second favorite Batkid even if I don’t understand her as strongly. But I do get a lot of her basic personality, and a bit of the nuances, even if I’m not ultra confident on it yet.

She’s quirky, she knows how to tease, but she can also be a bit objective based unless she’s bored it seems, like she does watch TV, but when she has a goal she will not stop until the goal is done. She’s a fully compassionate person as well, she sees little kid needing help, she helps little kid.

Also given her upraising she can be more socially oblivious than anyone else, even Tim. She’s walked around an apartment she was sharing with others butt naked. I think she accidentally flirted with Babs (not a shippy thing, it’s a, Cass said a thing she didn’t understand thing), because she couldn’t tell the difference between a platonic thing and cheesy romantic thing as she watched TV.

She doesn’t always listen. She will just beat by her own drum unless she believes in something someone else said more.

Given her mind wasn’t raised to be socializing, a lot of this stuff makes sense and is kind of obvious when you think about it.

Cass can also be very stubborn when she has a goal, even when it’s against someone else’s wishes.

She’s mostly been a loner by herself, but she has grown to seem to genuinely like having company around to bond with.

She’s been shown being protective of Tim. Literally carrying him out of a fight zone.

Babs’s is more or less her mom.

Dick and Steph’s I’ve described before.

Distant with Alfred, but Alfred will occasionally drop by to help out. They’re still carrying if they aren’t as connected as others.

Not gonna lie I can’t remember her relationship with Bruce.

But that’s some of the basics and slight nuances of Batgirl. I’m still in the early part of learning about her. So I’ll probably understand her more later on. I genuinely really like her though. I like how she isn’t a one dimensional character like some writers make her out to be. She’s genuinely really fun to read.

Jason

I actually know Jason quite a bit because I made a big long post about his time as Robin (post-crisis only, not counting the scripts written before the 80s reboot, or anything inconsistent).

He’s anti-authority, angry, cusses, smokes, violent, murderous tendencies, aggressive, but also has a genuine heroic spirit, is appreciative of the opportunities he was able to have, loved being able to learn especially, had insecurities, and a lot of his violence was in the name of being a more aggressive way of justice. He’d never hurt an innocent.

A lot of this is explain by the fact he was raised on the streets more or less.

When ever he got especially violent was because of a bad guy hurting or killing an innocent or committing abusive acts of any sort. He probably seen a lot of bad stuff on the streets and doesn’t handle it.

He’s pretty decently cynical because of thinking that’s the best way to deal with it.

He was also moody, but after his upbringing that’s to be expected, and unlike what some thinks, Batman was actually understanding and did his best to help Jason back even if he didn’t get it as first.

Jason isn’t a villain, he is a pure anti-hero, he wants to help, he loves to help, when he feels like he should help he does. He just has his own way of doing it that lots don’t agree with.

When he became the Red Hood, all of this stuff just became amplified because of the traumatic event he went through and the feeling of not being avenged and abandoned again.

Where as before he’d nearly kill people, he outright does now with even left empathy. He had a sack of decapitated head once just so other criminals knew he wasn’t playing around.

However his moodiness came out in different ways. He was actually a very calm, chill personality as the Red Hood, until his traumas got poked at, where he’d go back into his angry bitter ways, but to a more unstoppable way. He’d be more violent, more angry, more inconsolable, more unstable.

As the Red Hood, he is a very far ahead planner and tactition. People always call Tim the planner, but to me Jason is the planner and tactition of the group. He had a large plan that took a while to do, but caused him to accomplish a lot in a short time. Tim does it in the moment or moments before and does a fine enough job, but he isn’t a good leader. Dick is a good planner tactition and leader, but it can also just be shortly before he does something. Jason thinks very far ahead and how people will react and think, how to get under their skin, what will piss them off, what will give him what he once etc.

When he’s not unstable, he’s calm and collected, and is always trying to get under people’s skin. Not in a large over the top way, but just a bit. In an almost charming sort of way. A sly way. He pokes buttons when he’s calm and collected.

As to be expected his relationship with the Bat-Family is complicated. He’s mostly just in the Bat-Family almost purely because of his past in it, more than what he is currently. He’s more of a loner type that will get help when needed, but until the New 52 said otherwise, he’s not much of a team player as he mostly works by himself.

Bat-Family wants him to get better, but at the same time I think they recognize it’s gonna take a lot for Jason to get better, and since Jason is dangerous it creates a lot of overwhelming feelings. Bruce is upset at himself and is almost grieving Jason all over again, Dick has regrets he never had a chance to know him till then, and Tim’s relationship has been so varied and never really felt right, I’d say most likely Tim would be scared of Jason, and upset at him. Jason was a Robin that killed. Going off of how Tim reacted to thinking Batman killed, he’d probably be genuinely miserable at the thought of what Jason became, and be distant from him.

Jason is sly and hard to read unless he’s emotional.

Duke

Duke is the hardest to say anything for, because he’s the newest, most obscure (even tho he is gaining quick prominence), and so therefore has less to go off of. Not helped by a lot of writers making him very two dimensional at best a lot of the time.

He is a natural leader, a dare-devil, very willing to put his life on the line at any time, and passionate and almost stubborn about helping people. He wants to save people, and he’s always wanting to help, because he wants to make his neighborhood a better place.

And that’s almost all I can say, because having read his mini-series he doesn’t have many character traits, and WE ARE ROBIN, where he was introduced and I got that from was short lived.

He’s only with the other Batkids when they really wanna pander, so I can’t even accurately say anything, and the few times you could make a guess it’s not in-character for the other. So he’s just hard to tell. Besides Cass.

I think he’d naturally get along with Bruce, Dick, and Tim, and he’s shown being closest to Cass in the Outsiders series. Considering Cass a sister I believe. They console in each other, care about each other, worry about each other, and look after each other. That’s the closest relationship he has.

But it’s hard to say a lot for him.

AGES:

To be blunt I can’t say with full accuracy because there’s so many inconsistencies plus reboots.

But I’ll go into oldest to youngest, because some don’t realize some ages.

Dick, was 21 when Tim was 13

Jason was 18 when Tim was 15

Cass is the same age if not older than Jason

Steph is two years older than Tim

I believe Duke is around the same age as Steph

and Tim and Damian’s ages off of that is pretty obvious.

Sorry this is so freaking long, but like I said, just DM me. I’m about to watch a movie, but I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. I at least hope this helped some, and if it’s too long, just message me because it’ll probably be less overwhelming then.

#long post

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crackimagines · 6 years ago

Text

Child!Byleth as a Professor

Alright, at some point I saw a post about how funny it would be if tiny child Byleth became the professor instead wait a second how old are we of the adult one.

I wanted to find the og post and link it because I love the idea and wanted to write for it, but I couldn’t find it.

If OP is reading this, know that your idea is BRILLIANT!

Now that context is over, LET THE LESSON BEGIN

EDIT: Child!Byleth Post Masterlist here!

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Child!Byleth as a Professor (Part 1)

Meeting the Tiny Professor

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“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me...” Jeralt said as he face palmed.

Rhea had told Jeralt that his son would be a Professor at this academy after his heroic feats saving some students.

What boggled his mind, and everyone else’s in that room, was that his son looked like he was about 10 years old.

True, he was a gifted mercenary and a smart kid. He didn’t earn the title ‘The Ashen Demon’ by lazing around all day, but he was not expressive in the slightest.

He was sure that he’d freak everyone out with how he acted, but there wasn’t any use telling Rhea no.

He exited the audience chamber with Byleth, and he looked down at him.

“You heard what she said, right?”

“Yeah...Why me though?” Byleth asked, a blank expression on his face.

“Kid, if I knew, I would’ve told you...How about you get around the academy and get to know the brats? I have to check something in my room. I’ll be with you soon.”

Byleth nodded and went down the stairs.

A knight guarding the room looked at Jeralt.

“Uh sir, shouldn’t he have an escort of some kind?”

Jeralt scoffed, turning back to him.

“If anything, you guys would be escorted by HIM.”

As Byleth walked through the school, he noticed several people giving him funny looks as well as calling him ‘cute’.

He walked to the reception hall and saw Edelgard.

“Ah, hello Byleth.” Edelgard said respectfully.

Byleth nodded silently and she continued.

“Thank you once again for saving me and the others. We are in your debt.”

“Don’t worry about it...By the way, you’re the leader of a house, right?”

“That is correct. What of it?”

“Apparently I’m supposed to be teaching a group of students.”

Edelgard smiled. “I didn’t think you could squeeze out a joke like that.”

His face didn’t even move, only then she realized that he wasn’t joking.

“O-Oh, pardon? You’re replacing our previous professor?”

“Apparently. Miss Rhea wanted it.”

Several students noticed what he said and talked amongst themselves, while guards looked at each other in confusion.

If Byleth could feel a lot of regret, it would be now. The news began to spread like wildfire.

Blue Lions

Once Byleth talked to Dimitri and learned about his household, he was about to find Claude next until he was approached by Annette and Mercedes.

“Hey there! You’re Byleth right?” Annette asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh my goodness! He looks precious!” Mercedes said, cupping her hands together.

Dimitri face palmed in embarrassment. Sure he was a child, but the last thing that this kid needed was to be coddled.

Byleth remained stone-faced as they threw compliments and started to baby talk him.

“Just let us know if you need any help, sweetie! We can be your big sisters!” Annette cheerfully said.

“I must be seeing the other students now, I am on a tight schedule. Please excuse me.” Byleth replied, walking between them but making sure not to hit or shove them.

He walked off towards the Golden Deer house while all three of them looked at Byleth curiously.

Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid were speaking to each other until they saw Byleth walk by.

(Sylvain) “Hey there, you lost?”

Byleth turned towards Sylvain, his cold gaze instantly scaring him.

“I’m okay, thank you.”

Ingrid smiled politely and knelt down.

“Sorry, my friend didn’t mean to be rude. I’m Ingrid! And that’s Sylvain and Felix.”

“My name is Byleth. A pleasure.”

“So, you’re that kid everyone’s been talking about.” Felix said, a hint of hostility aiming at him.

“How did someone like you managed to get picked to be a professor?”

Ingrid slapped his shoulder angrily.

“Hey, don’t be mean! He’s just a child!”

Felix ignored her and continued.

“Listen here, I won’t let a kid get the better of me-”

Byleth turned to him, keeping his stone-faced expression.

“You won’t win.”

Ingrid was taken aback while Sylvain snorted, immediately looking at Felix who’s face spelled nothing but surprise and something that said ‘YOU WANNA GO?’.

“Is there any other students in the Blue Lions I should know about?” Byleth asked, turning back to Ingrid.

“U-Um...There’s Dedue and Ashe. They’re inside right now.”

“Thank you. Excuse me.”

He didn’t turn back to face Felix, who was ready to strangle the child until Ingrid karate chopped his head.

“Ack! What the-”

“ARE YOU SERIOUSLY PICKING A FIGHT WITH A CHILD, FELIX?!”

Byleth introduced himself to Ashe and Dedue. It was mostly Ashe talking the entire time since both of them were extremely quiet.

(Ashe) “U-Um...well, I look forward to speaking to you more often!”

Ashe said smiling. Byleth nodded at him then turned back to Dedue.

They both stared at each other, seemingly examining in close detail about the person they were staring down.

After a while, they both nodded at the same time, gaining a silent respect for each other and Byleth left.

(Dedue) “...I like him.”

Golden Deer

Leonie was the first to notice that a child was at the doors, but then she realized who exactly the child was.

“Hey, you’re Captain Jeralt’s kid, right?”

He looked up at her, not seemingly caring about the fact he was.

“I’m told that, yes.”

“You’re told-What? You should have pride in that! I was personally taught by the Blade Breaker at your age, and I am forever grateful for that!”

“Okay.”

Leonie’s anger went from 0 to the eternal hells.

“Oh, you’re a little punk, you know that!?” Leonie shouted, seemingly getting more and more angry that THIS is Jeralt’s child.

Hilda came in and separated the two.

“Alright, settle down there, Leonie! No need to pick a fight with our possible professor!”

“WHAT?! This kid is our professor?!”

“I possibly can. I’m here to speak to the students of the Golden Deer. Claude said I’d be able to find everyone in here.” Byleth said, looking disinterestedly around the classroom.

“You’ve come to the right place! Sorry about her, my name’s Hilda kiddo!”

“Please refrain from calling me that-”

“I’ll be more than happy to help you out in case you need help with shelves and such-”

“Is there anyone else I can talk to?”

Now, Hilda was just as angry as Leonie.

“What the, hey I’m being nice here!”

“I appreciate it, but I can do without the coddling. I am aware of my appearance, but I am far from just a child. Excuse me.”

He walked off, and they immediately started grumbling angrily about the brat that they had just seen.

Lysithea was watching from a distance, and immediately gained respect for the tiny professor.

“Finally, someone who understands my pain...!” She said to herself.

Afrer a seemingly pleasant conversation with Raphael and Ignatz, he left to find the other students. The three had discussed their history of the class and how strong they were, noticing that Byleth was especially strong himself.

Raphael offered to train with Byleth and Ignatz offered to study, to which he both respectfully declined due to his tight schedule. Byleth took a mental note of liking the two, however.

He went up to Lorenz, politely clearing his throat to get his attention.

“Ah, hello there! You must be the new professor! You may just be a child, but please note, you will not get any special treatment from me! For I am a noble, and to disregard such formalities for someone like you would-”

Byleth immediately lost interest, and turned away to find another student.

“What the- GET BACK HERE! I WASN’T FINISHED YOUNG MAN!”

“When you have something to say instead of idly flaunting, then please feel free to find me.” Byleth said without turning back, walking towards Marianne.

“O-Oh...hi there.” Marianne said shyly.

“Hello. My name is Byleth.”

“You’re...the professor? You’re so young!”

“I get that a lot.”

Marianne immediately backpedaled, her eyes going wide.

“I-I’m so sorry! I d-didn’t mean to offend you! You’re b-better off talking to someone else!”

“...Uwah...!”

Everyone in the room turned to look at Byleth as soon as he made that adorable noise.

Even though his face was still not moving, his voice sounded slightly panicked.

“P-Please do not worry about it. You’re one of the nicer people I’ve talked to today.”

Marianne’s heart skipped a beat as soon as she heard that.

“T-Thank you...” Marianne replied, slightly embarrassed she was being comforted by a child.

“Please take care.” Byleth said, bowing, then leaving the room.

“W-What a nice child...”

As he walked out, he saw Claude leaning against a pillar.

“So, got to know a bit of these misfits?”

“It’s a madhouse.”

Claude snorted, seeing everyone’s reaction, ranging from laughing, to pure rage at him.

“Well, it’s our little slice of heaven from the Alliance! Thanks for taking the time, professor!”

Byleth silently nodded and went to the Black Eagles class.

(Hilda) “That-”

(Lorenz) “Little-”

(Leonie) “DEVIL!”

Black Eagles

Dorothea and Petra saw Byleth walk in and waved hello at him. He began to walk over to her as she introduced herself.

“Greetings. My name be...IS, Petra.”

“Hey, my name’s Dorothea. You must be Byleth, right?”

“I am. Nice to meet you two. Can you tell me about this class?”

Dorothea explained the very basics of the empire, considering she was a commoner and not of high status.

Petra explained that she was a transfer student, and studying their language.

"I see. I will speak to your classmates for more info, but thank you very much, Petra and Dorothea. Please excuse me, but it was a pleasure speaking to you.”

He walked off towards Caspar and Linhardt.

“What a precious little kid! To think he might be our professor!”

“I know right? He was much polite for someone his age.

Caspar and Linhardt turned to Byleth as he walked near them.

“Huh? You lost kid?”

“That’s not just a kid, Caspar, that’s the new professor.”

“Huh? Is that sarcasm I hear, Linhardt?!”

“It’s not...Frankly, I’m as surprised as you are.” Linhardt said.

“That being said, you must be exceptionally intelligent to be teaching at this age.”

“Hmph.” Byleth replied. “Care to tell me about yourselves?”

“Well, I’m Caspar, and that’s Linhardt. I’m here to train as a warrior!”

“I’m here to research whatever interests me...”

“Care to elaborate?” Byleth asked.

“Ah, I’m sorry but...I am quite tired and cannot spare the time to-”

“Horribly lazy, got it.” Byleth said turning to Caspar.

Though that was very true, that still hurt.

Caspar laughed and crossed his arms.

“I like you, Byleth! Hope we see more of you!”

Byleth nodded and went towards Ferdinand.

“Hello, you’re the new professor? I am Ferdinand Von Aegir, son of the most famous household in the Empire, and rival of Lady Edelgard herself!”

Byleth looked at Ferdinand interestingly for a moment, until he properly examined him.

“All due respect, you wouldn’t even be able to contend with me, mister Ferdinand.”

“What the?! I wouldn’t be able to contend with a mere child?!”

Byleth sighed, realizing he just found another Lorenz-type.

“You may be the son of Sir Jeralt, but that is quite arrogant of you!”

“Please elaborate the differences of mine vs yours with Edelgard. I’d hesitate to even call you a bench-warmer.”

Everyone was taken completely aback, overhearing their conversation.

Byleth bowed and turned away.

“My apologies for such a rude statement. Please excuse me, I am on a schedule.”

He walked away, Ferdinand at a loss for words.

“...What...What’s with this sassy child?! This is to be a professor?!”

He went towards Hubert who had been watching him closely the entire time.

“You...you’re dangerous.” Hubert said calmly.

Byleth stared back at him, not being intimidated by his presence.

“Yourself as well. You know who I am, so what is your name?”

“Hubert. I am the aide to Lady Edelgard. I trust you have met her already.”

“Indeed. She spoke highly of you.”

They stared each other down, the aura that both of them were radiating was enough to make a warrior drop his weapon out of fear.

“I hope to see you in action soon, Professor.”

“You too, Hubert.”

They both nodded and Byleth left to go talk with Bernadetta.

Though it was a mutual respect, everyone was sure they were planning how to murder each other already.

Bernadetta was facing a corner, hoping not to get noticed.

“Please don’t see me! Please don’t see me!”

“Excuse me-”

“EEEEK! I’M...O-Oh, it’s...a child.”

“If I may ask, who were you hiding from?”

“Oh, well I heard that the new professor was SUPER scary! And I didn’t want to him to talk to me because well...I’m not great with people, little guy. Hopefully he’ll overlook me.”

Everyone stared at Bernadetta, she didn’t realize that she was basically insulting the professor right now.

Byleth however found this entire situation...amusing. His face went something like this.

I like this one...

“May I ask your name?”

“Huh? Oh uh, it’s Bernadetta. What’s yours?”

“Byleth.”

He turned around still wearing a small smile as Bernadetta’s smile slowly disappeared and turned into an open mouth of horror.

As he left to go find Jeralt, he heard Bernadetta let out a wail, realizing what she had just done.

Audience Chamber...

Rhea, Seteth and Jeralt were waiting as he walked back in.

“Hey kid, how’d it go?”

“Was alright.” Byleth replied standing by his dad.

“Hello, Byleth. Have you made your decision?”

“...Miss Rhea? May I speak freely for a moment?”

“Of course, dear-”

“They’re all idiots.”

Rhea’s eyes widened while Seteth gasped audibly. Byleth stood still not really knowing what he said was very rude.

Jeralt however, began laughing his ass off.

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reticentshugyosha · 4 years ago

Text

Remembering My Early Training

I feel really quite fortunate to have stumbled into classical martial arts when I was a kid. As opposed to the more generic and significantly less exciting forms of kick-punch arts out there, my experience of Ryukyu Kempo was infinitely more colorful and arguably deep, if not at times in unintended and unexpected ways.

The first several weeks of training in Ryukyu Kempo consisted of wearing normal clothes to a class of black (yes black) dogi clad students practicing an array of empty handed kata, alongside kobujutsu, and distinct grappling maneuvers called tuite. I, however (like most new students at the time) was slated to make my way to the edge of the training area to watch class, and more importantly, to make friends with “Mr. Suburito.”

A suburito is an extra large, weighted wooden training sword. Despite its already bulky nature, the more senior students of the school would bore out holes along the blade of the veritable branch and fill them with lead for extra difficulty. My adult-sized, but not otherwise modified “Mr. Suburito” was quite enough for me to handle in awkwardly learning how to carry and draw him, so as to perform a great many downward, centerline cuts subsequently. I mean wooden swords are cool and all, but it was admittedly a little curious way to begin training in what I expected to be generically open handed karate art. Fast forward 20+ years later and I’m still discovering the nuance of that particular exercise in reference to my open handed skill set (including both striking and grappling) and my practice of kobujutsu at large.

After a few weeks of learning to relate to Mr. Suburito, I was introduced to Naihanchi Shodan as my first kata (solo exercise), rather than a taikyoku or kihon (typically low block and middle punch) manner of pattern.

The instruction given for the seemingly arcane Naihanchi kata was that the interestingly venerated Master Choki Motobu famously noted it was the only thing needed to gain a complete knowledge of karate. Beyond that, according to the Guiding Principles of our school “in the past a single master studied a single Kata for more than ten years…” and that if we just wholeheartedly threw ourselves into the practice of the kata (which follows a single horizontal, line enbusen [floor pattern] that sees the student moving left and right in a side-oriented kiba dachi [horse stance], while performing 27 duplicated movements at the left, right and center of the body, including two seeming ritualized double handed “salutes”) we would be well on our way to becoming truly skilled and wise practitioners of the art.

All of these things about the Naihanchi Kata were of course true, and after quite literally hundreds of thousands of repetitions of that particular 27-movement form over the course of more than two decades, I still cannot pretend to fully grok the contents and blueprints contained within that one archetypal form. Nonetheless, the unspoken fact was too that Mr. Suburito and the arcane Naihanchi Kata (despite the realities of the respective, intentionally subtle and skillful physical conditioning technologies contained within them) were really about slowly introducing a potential new member of the dojo into the actual training methods of the style and school without revealing anything too obviously dangerous, should the new recruit to prove to not be of the “good moral character” demanded by the Dojo Kun. Should that be the case, and should such a recruit find themselves to have worn out their welcome, the public was nominally protected, and the secrets of the school were further safeguarded by those deemed trustworthy enough to receive them. To return again to an examination of the Guiding Principles “the eagle with the sharpest talons hides them.”

As you can imagine, the onboarding process was a little more lengthy than that at a typical karate school. I recall distinctly having to memorize and be able to recite on command the five statements of the Dojo Kun (school code) and the ten paragraphs comprising the Guiding Principles (about a typed page and a half combined) before being able to progress beyond Mr. Suburito’s lone company.

After Naihanchi Shodan was sufficiently committed to mental and physical memory, and an exercise or two beyond simple striking sets with Mr. Suburito, two more similarly single, horizontal line enbusen comprised Naihanchi Kata (Nidan and Sandan) would follow, before I (the student) would actually be introduced to anything clearly resembling combat in posture, gesture, or movement in the truly unique “Tomari” Seisan (which is in fact a rather intricate white crane form, as opposed to most other forms sharing its name). For me this took about a year (without receiving or testing for a single belt rank along the way; curiously even the black belts didn’t wear rank belts, only a unique form of pantaloons called nobakhama, with but a couple of students who had here-and-there tested for a colored belt donning one).

However, it’s notable that within three or so weeks I (who hadn’t been yet taught how to do a simple block or strike in the manner of the system) would suddenly find myself introduced to the chizikun bo, a type of paired koppo (6” sticks with leather finger loops drilled through their centers, used as weapons, which are placed over the middle fingers of both hands). As it turns out a 7th Dan Kyoshi (Master) of the art would be teaching a rare form for the weapon at an even rarer full weekend training camp alongside a river at a distant and rural campsite.

You see, Kyoshi was always on the verge or “retiring,” and taking his still undivulged body of genuinely unique knowledge with him. Kyoshi never could quite get a successful dojo up and running himself (in fact the dojo was quite transient and moved or closed at least once a year) but nonetheless he (due to a mixture of actual skill and cowboy charisma) kept a pretty dedicated band of students within his orbit.

Whenever Kyoshi was strapped for cash a special training called a “Spirit Class” (a four+ hour day of Mr. Suburito and Naihanchi-esque kiba dachi chudan tsuki [horse stance middle punches]) could be scheduled for a nominal fee, inclusive of a custom screen printed t-shirt. If the bank was really coming to task though, a new, and somehow legitimately rare kobujutsu kata could be transmitted, replete with a custom printed t-shirt (for one low price) over the course of a weekend, and all hands were to be on deck. At no extra cost came the knowledge that if you open the advanced chizi kata the wrong way it “looks like you guys are trying to tear your peckers off” (LMAO, seriously) and that if you want to shower at a rural campsite you should stop and get quarters first, and that when you stop and get quarters first you should make sure that the item you’re buying to break cash into change with costs an appropriate amount so as to retrieve quarters in change. Twelve and thirteen year olds have to learn this stuff sometime! 😉

At this point I feel it worthwhile to note that Kyoshi did eventually retire and move out of state and out of touch, with some yet untaught and authentically rare and valuable skills in tow. I still practice that kata, or what I think I was taught at the time, and I’ve met very few people that know the “advanced chizi kata.”

Picking back up in week five of my training (and far beyond) Naihanchi Nidan and Sandan were gradually learned, and suddenly I had been indoctrinated and inducted properly into the tradition. By then I practiced my kata and exercises single mindedly while lusting over a copy of the Grandmaster’s newly self-published textbook. The textbook was sold only by a single school in his association for what was then (and now, but then especially) a very steep price of $65 (and a far cry from the $15 cost of his senior student’s very useful introductory manual sold in the same venue).

Speaking of those students and that venue, it was around this time that I recall that I began to realize that our faction of the art was no longer in the good graces of the Grandmaster’s association, and that there existed some really bad juju between the two camps. But regardless, we were all agreed that we were far superior to, and would not associate ourselves with, the third group of people accused of having stolen some of the secrets of the Grandmaster’s art at a few generous public seminars.

But I digress. For us, our “classical” system (as opposed to “traditional,” or the even more anathema “modern” styles) of karate was supreme (and admittedly the older I get the more my bias does swing that way among Japanese and Okinawan striking arts). Labeled sell-outs like Gichen Funakoshi of Shotokan fame were but “shamisen players with silver tongues who only ever learned the outside of karate” (or so said that curious younger Master Motobu again…the older Master Motobu was quite more refined in manners and skill). In short, if you wanted to real deal, you had to come to us.

My early life experience in Ryukyu Kempo introduced me to some of the most wonderful and valued friends and mentors in my life who I have been blessed to have cherished relationships with for decades now. Too, it broke (early on, in life and in training) many of my romantic conceptions of humanity, while also providing me an all but stereotypicalized idyllic training milieu. I really couldn’t have had it better anywhere else.

~Sunyananda

#martial arts #Budo #Ryukyu Kempo #shugyo #training #dojo #karate #coming of age #growing up

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zombiesbecrazy · 5 years ago

Text

look after their own

Summary: Five times Robin was pinned down.

AO3

Jason hit the ground hard, feeling the skin of his knees skid in a way that he knew was going to leave a trail of blood behind. Stupid Robin shorts. Who thought those were a good idea? Bruce said that Dick designed his own costume but why the hell would he and Alfred let him go out like this? It was just dumb, increased mobility be damned. He couldn’t wait for winter so he could break out the insulated pants that he knew were in the cave.

The more he thought about it, the more irritated he was. Why on earth was he using a second hand costume? Sure, Dick had given him this one which made it special, but Bruce was a kagillionaire. He could afford a suit with pants if he could afford to make all those batarangs.

He tried to get up, eager to get back into the thick of the fight, only then aware that there is a larger body pinning him down. He twisted around, ready to sock the would be attacker right in the kisser when he recognized the masked face above him and teal markings of another ridiculous costume.

Speak of the devil, the OG booty shorts Robin himself.

“What the heck?” Jason didn’t punch him, but slapped Dick’s arms a few times, not trying to hurt him, just maybe annoy him to the point of letting go.

“Stay down, Little Wing,” said Dick, tone serious. Not like it was when he fought with Bruce screaming at top volume, more like Bruce himself when he was teaching a new skill, when Jason needed to pay attention. Low, patient, but unyielding. “Wait for it.”

“Don’t call me that,” Jason automatically replied. That was the third time Dick had called him that, dangerously close to it becoming a thing and he absolutely didn’t want it to catch on. “Wait for what?”

“Three… two… one…” Nightwing pointed his finger like he was ticking off a checkbox and as if on cue a barrage of bullets shot out over their heads, just where Jason had been standing before Nightwing had swung around, tackling him to the ground. Jason flinched at the sound, both of the gun firing and the bullets hitting the wall behind them.

Jason would have been like Swiss Cheese his Dick hadn't shown up.

“How did you know that was going to happen?”

“It’s Penguin. It’s what he does.” Dick shrugged and rolled off Jason, sitting on the ground beside him instead “Did you see that little twirly thing he did with his umbrella? He always does that before going trigger happy. Always dive when you see him do that because you have about eight seconds. It’s not a lot of time, but it's enough.” Jason nodded. Bruce hadn’t said anything about that when they had been learning about Copplepot in training, but if Dick was telling him about it and based on what had just happened, it would have to be true.

“Now what?”

“He’s gotta reload before he does it again.” Dick peeked over the fence they were behind, taking a look at what they were up against. “So I think that now is the perfect time for Robin and Nightwing to swoop in and save the day before he gets a chance to do that.”

Jason spat on his knee, attempting to wipe up some of the blood and grinned when he saw Dick scrunch up his nose at that. “What about Batman?” he asked. He had been patrolling solo, but had called in the Penguin sighting before shit had hit the fan, so B should be close by now.

Dick shrugged a shoulder, not overly bothered about where Batman was or wasn’t at that particular moment. “Well sure he can help, I guess, if he shows up, but between the two of us we don’t need no stinking Batman.” They could hear Penguin calling out, taunting them, calling them out to face him and it just made Dick smile. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve always wondered what a penguin would look like hanging upside down from a lamp post. What do you say? Waddle try?” he asked before jumping to his feet and running, apparently starting whatever plan he had up his dumb looking sleeves.

Jason groaned and scrambled after Dick to chase him down. That was a terrible joke and he just couldn’t let that fly.

He opened the door and the strange ticking noise that he had been following got a lot louder, which he really knew wasn’t a good thing. His gut had been telling him that he was doing something stupid and he should probably call Batman in, but his curiosity got the better of him and he had kept following the lead on his own.

Big mistake. Big, big, big mistake.

Tim’s eyes grew wide when he saw the glowing red numbers, counting down in what he logically knew was by the second but they seemed to be going impossibly faster than that. Relays, switches, a mess of wires; there just wasn’t enough time to defuse it no matter how good he was. The warehouse was going to blow in eighteen seconds.

Batman wouldn’t be able to handle it if he got himself exploded. He had to run and hope that he got far enough away from the blast so that it didn’t kill him. He couldn’t do that to Bruce. He needed Tim. Especially now.

He was tackled around the waist and pressed hard into the ground just as the building behind him exploded. There was a rush of warmth as the flames engulfed the area, but he was just far enough away that the fire didn’t reach him, if only by a few feet. There was debris landing around him, he was safe and secure, somehow covered by the a larger body who had pushed him just far enough out of the way to not toasted.

The figure above him groaned and pushed himself off, crawling to his knees and Tim could hear him panting loudly through his helmet. His red helmet with the voice modulator.

Red Hood. Robin. Jason Todd.

Jason Todd had recently beaten Tim to a bloody pulp in Titans Tower. Recently enough that Tim still had bruised ribs from the attack.

Jason pulled his helmet off, red domino mask on, gasping in deep breaths, hands shaking and he completely ignored Tim beside him, instead staring off at the burning rubble of the warehouse instead, watching the flames flicker and slowly destroy the remains.

“Hood?” Tim sat up, hand to his head, running his hand through his hair that was quickly filling with ash. “Why…” his voice was choked and his words stumbled over themselves. “Thanks for…” Tim coughed, lungs trying to catch up to what had just happened. He didn’t know what to say to his strange rescuer, the man that had just saved his life, and finally settled on. “Jason, why?”

Jason pulled his knees towards him, trying to curl his large frame up into a very small ball, and stared off into the fire. “No one,” Jason finally said, voice hoarse with smoke and fire and maybe something else. Tim could see the fire flickering in the reflection of Jason’s mask lenses. “No one should go out like that.”

They both stared at the building for a few minutes, side by side, but by themselves. “I thought you wanted me dead,” whispered Tim

“Yeah, well. No one gets to kill you but me.” There had been a moment, a moment there between them where they understood each other. It was fleeting, and now it was gone, but it had been there. Jason had saved him. His Robin had saved him.

“Run along back to your big bad Bat, little Robin,” Jason said, still watching the fire with intensity, showing no sign of leaving any time soon.

And Tim ran, knowing the whole way that he wouldn’t mention a word of it to Bruce.

It was their little secret.

“So I should probably sweep the leg, like in the Karate Kid?” asked Stephanie as she circled him on the mat, trying to figure out what his stance was giving away to her. They had been working by themselves for a while, Steph determined to become stronger in her fighting skills and Tim looking to still somehow help even though he was no longer help. He could say to his dad that he was helping a friend with her homework and not technically be lying.

Except in the way that he totally was. He had only lasted three days before he was back in the Cave after school just like he always had, even just for a little while before he had to leave so his dad didn’t find out. Today though, today Ives was lying for him if his dad asked. Today he could even stay for dinner and the pre-patrol debrief before he had to hurry back home.

He missed being Robin so much and it had only been a week.

“Sure. Just no Crane kicks. Those are illegal.”

Stephanie burst out laughing, losing any sort seriousness that she had barely been clinging to through the session. “We dress up like vigilantes, fight crime in the shadows and have villains who can control plants, but sure, let’s not use illegal martial arts moves, Tim.”

“Look, I know that Johnny was a jerk, but Daniel should have been disqualified.”

“You are very hung up on this.” She stopped in front of him, smiling at his outrage. He knew that he had ranted about this to her before but it was something that bothered him a lot about the movie.

“There are rules and he didn’t follow them. Especially in an organized sporting event like tha...”

Stephanie kissed him, and Tim’s body froze, but his brain started running at top speed, mildly panicking. Did this mean she wanted to get back together? Should he kiss her back? He liked kissing her, and she tasted like strawberry lip balm which was his favourite but he wasn’t sure what this meant. It would be polite to kiss her back but they might be better off friends. He was about to pull away but before he could figure out what he was going to do, he was flat on his back, Steph pinning him down, counting loudly and smacking the mat with each second.

“I win!” She raised her arms up in the air and threw her head back, cackling loudly and then rolled off Tim, and laid down on the mat beside him, breathing hard as she laughed.

He rolled his head to look at her, pretending scowl and look put out for falling for her move. “You fight dirty.” They were sparring, not making out. There were rules . Why was he even a little surprised that she didn’t follow them?

He sort of liked that she didn’t.

“Hey, whatever works.” She chewed on her lip and had the sense to look a little nervous. “I’m sorry. That probably crossed a line.”

“Yeah, but it was nice.” Tim could feel his ears growing pink, embarrassed even though he didn’t really know why. It was far from the first time that they had kissed, even since they had broken up. “Sometimes I miss kissing you.”

“Yeah?” she asked softly, looking at his lips. “Only sometimes?”

“Maybe more than sometimes.” He could feel himself being drawn closer to her, like a magnet or gravitational pull. They probably should stop or walk away or go back to sparring. This was probably a bad idea.

Steph closed her eyes and leaned forward, whispering, “Me too.”

This definitely didn’t fall into helping a friend with her homework in any possible way and Tim was more than okay with that.

Sometimes bad ideas weren’t so bad. As long as they heard Bruce coming down the stairs in time.

“Robin!” Stephanie pinned him down, legs straddled over his waist but he was struggling against him and was just so damn squirmy. “Damn it, listen to me, you little brat.”

Damian’s eyes were panicked and he was doing everything that he could think of to throw her off, and while he was a better fighter than she was, he was down to three good limbs to her four and it was enough for her to have the advantage in this position. It didn’t stop him from arguing with her though. “We have to get to him, we have to help him, we have to get to Batman.”

He had been arguing with her for a while, and she had begun to realise that he was bordering on having a panic attack. He knew that she was there, and who she was, but nothing that she was saying was registering and he wasn’t even realizing how badly that he had been hurt. She had to stop him from moving, from making a severely bad break into something closer to a permanent injury.

This wasn’t him fighting because he needed to; it was fighting because he was scared and not thinking straight.

Stephanie ran out of options and slapped him in the face. Not hard, but enough to get his attention and derail his rambling for a second, hopefully long enough that she could get through to him. Damian eyes were wide but he stopped thrashing and he locked his gaze on Steph. She tried what she had been trying to tell him before again. Maybe the fourth time would be the charm. “Batman is fine. Oracle called in backup for him and Red Robin is there.” Damian was breathing hard through his nose, chest heaving with effort, but he was listening. He nodded at her, which was better than the other times had gone so Steph kept her voice calm and continued. “You on the other hand, are completely not fine, unless you normally have a bone sticking out of your boot?” Damian’s breath hitched at that, but he shook his head. “Didn’t think so. Compound fibula fracture, kiddo. You aren’t running off anywhere.”

“But…” he turned his head in the direction of the battle below, where Batman had redirected the fight after Robin went down, trying to draw the goons away. Stephanie gently pulled his chin back towards her. It wouldn’t help for him to think that he was needed elsewhere when he wouldn’t even be able to stand.

“Nope.” She climbed off of him and helped him sit up, careful with the injured leg, but he still hissed as he moved and saw the bone poking out. Steph took her cape off and covered Damian in it like a blanket so that he wouldn’t be tempted to keep looking at the leg. “Chill out with your favourite Batgirl for a while until the fights over and someone can pick us up.”

“You should leave and go help the others.”

“Nah. They’ve got it.” Steph could hear the fight going on through the comms and it honestly sounded sort of boring. If anything Damian would be mad later that his injury wasn’t caused by something more exciting instead of just a poorly placed kick and tumble. “I’d rather hang out with you. Can I make you a splint? I’ve been practicing.”

“I don’t want your third rate splint.”

“Excuse you, my splints are now second rate, because I’ve been practicing.” Damian glared at her with his stone cold expression. “Fine. No splint. Wait for B and he’ll do it if you want a perfect splint, your highness. Want to watch cat videos instead?”

“You brought your phone on patrol? Why?”

“To watch cat videos, obviously.” Damian said nothing so she pulled up YouTube and shoved the phone into his hands “Here. I found this great compilation of them pushing glasses off tables earlier. You’ll love it.”

Fifteen minutes later, Batman appeared on the roof only to find them sitting side by side, watching a baby elephant playing with a ball in the water, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t comment on her bringing her phone on patrol, instead setting to work on splinting Damian’s leg and with what she thought might possibly be a grunt of approval.

It was hard to breathe and it was the pressure on his chest was the thing that he thought had woken him up but he couldn’t be sure. Dick sluggishly blinked a few times and saw the familiar looking cave ceiling, fluorescent lights strung across. Medbay.

His foggy brain couldn’t remember how he had ended up there. Well, not specifically, anyway. He had been on patrol, he had been called in for back up for… something and that was about it. He must have been dragged back to the cave in the batmobile, but everything else was a blur of blackness and screaming and pain until there was nothing.

He tried to shift to get a little more comfortable but his entire body protested, partly due to bandages, whatever painkillers that Alfred must him pumped him with and the small dark haired body curled up beside him, head resting on Dick’s chest.

At least that explained the weight that had woken him up.

Dick slowly raised his hand and ran his hand through Damian’s hair, feeling his brother relax deeper into the touch, making Dick grin. If anyone outside the family ever knew that the small, angry Robin was such a big cuddler, he’d go on a rampage about it.

“He refused to leave your side,” said Bruce quietly, from his typical spot on the right hand side of the bed. He had his reading glasses on, the ones that he wore when he was exhausted but determined to stay awake, sketchpad in hand. Dick was just able to make out the lines of what looked like it might be him and Damian sleeping on the cot before Bruce flipped the book closed. Bruce always kept his 'doodles' private.

There was a cooled cup of coffee and abandoned tablet on the table next to the bed, as well as an empty plate, more signs of Bruce keeping watch. “Looks like he wasn’t the only one.”

Bruce hummed, and watched Dick adjust again who winced slightly as one of Damian’s elbows jabbed him in the stomach, probably over a bruise by the feel of it. Bruce frowned at the action, eyebrows pulling together. “Do you want me to take him upstairs?” He didn’t move though, probably guessing the answer. It was a fairly common tradition that only got passed over when the injuries were too severe for Damian to sleep with Dick when he was injured. He claimed that he was guarding him, but everyone knew better.

“Nah. We’re good.” Dick dropped his hand lower and rubbed circles on Damian’s back, who snored once and then snuggled in tighter. “Was I ever this small?” Dick asked quietly before he registered the words that came out of his mouth, and then huffed out a laugh, because yes, he knew objectively that he had been that small at some point, he had been a child after all, but he couldn’t quite fathom being this size at the manor.

“Smaller.” Bruce seemed to understand what he meant, taking off his glasses and tucking them into the neck of his shirt and watched his oldest and his youngest in silence as he thought about it more. “You were tiny. You would crawl into my bed after having a nightmare and I was afraid that I’d roll over in my sleep and crush you.”

Dick did remember doing that. Bruce’s size was part of the appeal of doing that; he could protect Dick from any monsters, dreams or memories that haunted him in the night. “Yeah, well, you are a behemoth who sleeps like the dead. It was probably a valid concern.” Bruce chuckled and then got up to check Dick’s vitals, both of them knowing that it was more out of something to do rather than necessity at this point.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“We always want you to stay, B.” smiled Dick, looking down at his brother. "But I don't think you need to. Robin's look after their own."

#whumptober2019 #no.16 #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Stephanie Brown #damian wayne #bruce wayne #robin pile #minor tim/steph

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mst3kproject · 5 years ago

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622: Angels Revenge

I would pay folding money for a half-hour gag reel of all the times Mike swung too hard or in the wrong direction or the wind was wrong and he took off Crow’s head. It had to happen at least twice. MST3K was not known for the sturdiness or sophistication of their props and we love them for it.

A fourteen-year-old boy steals some stuff from a drug dealer who looks an awful lot like Ben Murphy. In revenge, Fake Ben Murphy and Actual Jack Palance beat the shit out of him. This upsets both the kid’s sister, an up-and-coming musician, and his schoolteacher, and they hatch a plot to destroy the drug depot. They recruit a few friends – a Hollywood stuntwoman, a karate teacher, a model, a cop, and one of the teacher’s students – and steal some ammo from a bunch of neo-Nazis, and then it’s on to beat up the druggies!

I guess the idea behind this movie is fairly sound – a group of women get together to do a job the men aren’t willing to do. The question of just why the men aren’t willing to do it is an open one. Do the drug dealers own the police or something? I dunno. At the time it came out, Angels Revenge was panned as a ripoff of Charlie’s Angels, which it most unquestionably is, but there’s a reason that was a successful formula: women enjoy movies in which women kick ass, and men enjoy looking at boobs. In the right hands, it would still have been a ripoff, but it could have been a much better ripoff. Unfortunately, the grubby hands it got into were those of Greydon Clark.

The opening of this movie is a series of annoying missteps. A group of women we do not know (we’re not even sure how many there are) invade a gas station in the middle of nowhere and start blowing stuff up. Their names are given in the opening shot but not in a way that makes them memorable. One character apparently dies, the others go on without her, and then she reappears to save the day. None of this makes much of an impression beyond ‘oh, look, tits’, but we can tell they’re trying to get into the main building. We get into it just enough that we want to see what’s inside, and then bam. Freeze-frame, narration.

The time for this would have been about five minutes earlier. Seriously, this ‘action opening’, obviously patterned after things like James Bond, goes on for five minutes at least in which we don’t really know what’s happening or who any of these characters are. If we had just one to focus on that might help, but we’re watching six or seven of them run around doing different things and we don’t even know what their plan is so we can’t tell if it’s going right or wrong. The whole sequence should have been either massively cut down to just enough to tell us action is happening before it goes into the flashback, or just moved in its entirety to its proper place later in the narrative.

Then when we finally do start meeting the characters, the first one we meet is not the one who began narrating a moment earlier! It’s the beat-up kid’s sister, the one who so-far looked like she was in charge. Finding out she’s secondary in the whole plot is a bit of whiplash, and as far as I can tell the main purpose of the Vegas sequence (besides showing us her midriff) is to give a cameo to Arthur Godfrey as himself.

From there the rest of the characters are introduced and we finally find out who the hell they all are and what they bring to the table. April, the teacher, is the mastermind. Michelle, the singer, is the backer. Terry, the stuntwoman, is their engineer. Keiko, the karate teacher, is the hand-to-hand fighter. Maria, the model, is a distraction. Elaine, the cop, is the tactician. And Trish, the student, is… uh… somebody wanted a kid in this movie. The point is, if you go back and watch the opening sequence after the bit where everybody’s introduced, it’s much more involving and makes infinitely more sense! They could have had five minutes of action, but they gave us five minutes of boredom just by putting it in the wrong spot!

After some of the movies I’ve see, incidentally, it is a point very much to this movie’s credit that I remember everybody’s names. Well done, Angels Revenge!

That does not, however, outweigh the many other things the movie does badly. The actresses are mere eye candy, hired for their looks and not for their talent. They stand around in ‘sexy’ poses without bras on, and recite their lines like they’re in an eighth-grade play. Even so, they’re better than the men, who are just as bad at acting but aren’t distractingly nice to look at. The best actor in the entire movie is Alan Hale Jr and he’s only got about three lines.

Then there are the bits where the movie tries to be funny. The Neo-Nazis are supposed to be funny, which I’m honestly okay with – Hitler hated being made fun of and so it’s the responsibility of all right-thinking citizens to mock him and his movement whenever possible. But they aren’t funny, just a bunch of fat clumsy guys with Hitler mustaches. I don’t know how people who make movies fail to understand that in order to be funny, characters have to do funny things. Both the Neo-Nazis and other ‘comic’ male characters in the movie are presented simply as ‘lol, men are oafs, right girls?’ without any attempt at an actual punchline.

Another running gag is April, who insists she’s a Very Organized Person, and her over-full purse. That’s not really funny, but I can’t argue with it. Two years ago I bought a bag big enough to hold my knitting and I haven’t seen the bottom of it since. Someday I’ll be rooting around for something, fall in, and end up in Narnia.

The sequence in which they rob the Nazis does provide some action and acts as a trial run to show us the women can work together successfully. But we already saw that in the out-of-place opening sequence, so it’s not really establishing anything we didn’t already know. The fact that we’ve also seen what comes after also tells us that they will succeed at this mission with nobody getting hurt (not that these idiots they’re robbing are in any way a threat), and sucks all the suspense out. Man, the longer I think about it, the more ways in which that opening makes the movie worse! Whose idea was that anyway?

The characters are stereotypes, boring at best and deeply offensive at worst. The black woman is six feet tall and works on vehicles, because black women are butch! The Asian girl knows martial arts and uses a katana, because she’s Asian (and although she’s said to be from Vietnam, she has a Japanese name… it’s possible to come up with a backstory for her that incorporates this, but that’s not my job as an audience member)! The white women are bitches and bimbos, more distinguishable by their hair than by their personalities. April is presented as ‘the mousy one’ simply by not wearing lipstick on a heist.

I guess by having tough women and weak men, the writers thought they were being feminist, or at least appealing to feminists, but that’s not how feminism works on any level. Strength and intelligence isn’t pizza – you getting an extra slice doesn’t mean I don’t get one. Portraying the male antagonists as buffoons is actually deeply misogynistic, because it suggest that women can’t even play unless the men are idiots. The point of feminism is that women are people just as much as men are, and deserve to be treated as such – by other women, by men, and by screenwriters.

Let me illustrate with an example from the opposite extreme: Elinor and Marianne Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility are sisters who each need to get married for the sake of their financial security. That might seem a very sexist premise for a story – and it is, but only because it takes place in a sexist culture. Elinor and Marianne have distinct personalities and different ideas of what makes a happy marriage, and they make decisions as individuals, not simply because they are ‘women’. Each makes her own mistakes and learns her own life lessons, and the narrative explores what society has taught them to expect out of life versus the less romantic reality. They are two human beings. The characters in Angels Revenge, by contrast, are a bunch of pretty props.

It would have been so easy to make something actually enjoyable out of Angels Revenge. As I noted above, it uses a successful formula and it really could have been a fun little piece of exploitation cinema. Every decision made along the way, however, seems designed to sabotage it. It’s badly-written, lifeless, cliched, racist, and based on a fundamental misunderstanding of feminism. They hired women with no acting experience to play the main characters, and can’t decide which of those characters is our heroine. And of course, they edited it together in the wrong order, confusing and boring us and undermining what should have been important and suspenseful scenes. This sort of thing just leaves me frustrated and annoyed. You’re making a movie, people! Could you not put a little fucking effort in?!

#mst3k #reviews #angels revenge #70s

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smkkbert · 5 years ago

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Time for a story - Big Brother

“Okay, the next move I want to teach you originates from Krav Maga. It’s-“

“Really?” Felicity cocked her head, putting her hands to her hips. “You really want to give me a basic theory lesson on Krav Maga?”

Nick fastened his stand, taking his feet a little more apart on the mat, and straightened his shoulders. Looking at her seriously and matter-of-factly like he thought she was going to fight him on that, he nodded his head.

“It’s important to know where those movements are coming from and what they were developed for,” he told her, “because it helps to understand them, to decide which one is needed and to recall them when you need them.”

Felicity pressed her lips together and rolled them into her mouth. She hadn’t really meant to complain about a theoretical lesson because she thought that knowing the background of the self-defense techniques that she was going to learn today wasn’t useful. Actually, she usually learned things, even practical things, the best when she knew a lot about it.

At MIT, she had spent weeks reading everything about Ada Lovelace when she had taken a basis course in coding language. She had just wanted to know more about the origins of the name, and she had been pretty bored by the actual contents of the course. Her father had taught her everything about coding language before she had been ten years old. She had been obligated to take that stupid course anyway.

Shaking her head, she focused back on Nick. He was frowning slightly like he had seen how deep in her thoughts she had been.

“Krav Maga is a-“

“It’s a form of self-defense and fighting,” Felicity interrupted him, “it was developed in the 1950s for the Israeli Army. It combines techniques of boxing, wrestling, aikido, judo and karate. Because it’s focused on realistic training, hence based on actually realistic fight situations and efficient ways to handle them, it has been adapted by the FBI and CIA field agents as well as other international organizations. With the increased awareness for dangers in the everyday life of women and minorities, it has also been taught to civilians and-“

When Nick chuckled, making a gesture with his hand that told her that she could stop, Felicity indeed fell quiet. Smiling proudly and amusedly, she looked at her brother. Nick scratched the back of his head almost a little uncomfortably.

“I guess I forgot who your husband is for a second.”

“Oh, I don’t know this from Oliver.” Felicity chuckled, shaking her head firmly. “Oliver would have never taught me anything about Krav Maga. If it was up to him, I wouldn’t even know that self-defense techniques existed because I would never need self-defense.”

Nick perked up his eyebrows, dipping his head forward. “And how does the realistic part of him think you defend yourself when you are attacked?”

“I just scream his name and pray that he finds me in time to save me if I was attacked.”

Nick frowned. “That is highly unreasonable.”

Felicity chuckled at the way Nick still looked at her. Beneath the part of himself that still seemed to not believe what she had told him, she saw a glimpse of anger. Apparently, he didn’t find Oliver’s behavior which, by the way, Felicity loved to overdraw a little when she talked about it, as amusing.

“Oliver doesn’t even want to think about the possibility that I might get into a situation where I could need self-defense.” She shrugged her shoulders. “After all the people he has lost, it’s too much for him to bear.”

“Still,” Nick insisted, “it’s unreasonable. You need training in self-defense. Something can always happen to you, and you have to be able to hold yourself enough to run away which, by the way might be the most important aspect of Krav Maga. Its techniques are supposed to ensure that you have enough time to run.”

Felicity nodded her head. “I know.”

Nick narrowed his eyes at her. “If Oliver didn’t teach you about Krav Maga, who did?”

“John.” Felicity smiled quietly. “At first, he did it against Oliver’s will. Later, when Oliver finally realized that it was really useful, Oliver even asked him to do it.”

“With John, you had a good trainer.”

“The best.”

“The second best, I’d say.”

“Not sure about that,” John said, stepping out of the elevator and into the bunker all of a sudden, “Felicity and I have made a pretty good team.”

Felicity looked back and forth between John and Nick while the two men were staring at each other. John’s gaze was pervasive like he was trying to pierce through Nick’s skin and reach right into his thoughts. Nick on the other hand had his eyes narrowed slightly, looking at John thoroughly in an attempt to find out why the other man was suddenly so distant.

Although Felicity hurried to lower her gaze, not wanting to be pulled into this, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she really wanted to know what was going on too. John had been the person who had known Nick the best because they had already met in Afghanistan. They had gotten along as long as they had been in Gotham and those first weeks after. Now, John was quite distant when Nick was around, and Felicity just didn’t get why.

When the death-stare between the two men ended, John walked over to Felicity’s working area, sitting down in a chair there. Felicity looked after him, still frowning.

“What are you doing here, John?” she asked him. “I didn’t know you were going to come over. You aren’t on duty tonight and-“

“Lyla took the kids to her parents,” he replied with a sigh, “so I had nowhere to go. I thought I’d come here to train a little, but I guess I am a little too late. We might need a room plan if it continues like that.”

“The training area is spacious enough,” Nick replied, “or you could join in on this training lesson and-“

“Actually, I was just about to suggest that we should call it a day.” Felicity shot Nick a meaningful glance, hoping he would get the hint. “My arms are starting to feel incredibly heavy, and I think there will be tears at home when I am not able to carry my kids to bed tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, his eyes leaving no doubt that he knew she was just seeking a way out, “you were great today. Just call me when you are up for more.”

“Thank you.”

Nick nodded towards John before he turned around, grabbed his bag and walked over to the elevators. Busying himself with his phone, he stepped in a soon as the doors opened. His eyes lifted to hers briefly one last time just before the doors closed and took him upstairs.

Sucking her bottom lip between her front teeth and biting down on it, she shot a glance at John. He was still sitting in one of the chairs in her working area, not her chair of course because he would never dare to, but he seemed to have no idea what he was supposed to do there. He was tapping his fingertips on the top of the desk, watching them.

Felicity grabbed her towel from the floor, putting it around the back of her neck. On her way to her working area, she dried her sweaty face with one end of the towel and wiped her hands with the other end after that. Sweat always looked so good when it covered Oliver’s chest while he was working the salmon ladder, but it was so annoying otherwise, really annoying.

“You have to keep hydrated.”

She had just taken the first step when John threw her a small water bottle. Although she caught it, Felicity noticed that the heavy feeling in her arms that she had mentioned before hadn’t been a total lie. The last ninety minutes of training with her brother had strained her muscles a lot more than she had noticed so far.

“Thank you.”

With a deep sigh, Felicity let herself fall into her chair and took some gulps of the cool water. Closing the bottle, she pressed it to her forehead. It was a good feeling. It helped to cool her down.

As much as she focused on the cool feeling, she observed John nonetheless. For the last thirteen years since they had known each other, John had always been the Yoda of the team. He had been quiet, just like Oliver, but his quiet wasn’t the result of brooding. It was the result of a deep-rooted contentment, knowing that there were things he couldn’t change, that allowed him to observe the people around him. It was why he always seem to know what was going on, and why he always seemed like Yoda when he was handing out advice.

These last few weeks, it had been different though. There was something going on with John, and Felicity had to know what exactly it was. After all, John had helped her and Oliver through so much that now it was her turn.

“Everything alright with you?” Felicity asked, putting the bottle of water aside. “Because I could swear that it’s not.”

John shrugged it off. “No, everything is fine.”

Felicity snorted, causing John to shoot her a surprised glance. She cocked her head and looked at him intensely.

“John, I am married to a man who spent years saying everything was fine, while something was just eating him alive from the inside,” she told him, “I can see through a everything-is-fine lie blindly.”

John chuckled quietly, shaking his head. He knew as well as she knew that she was right. They had both known Oliver for so long, had been with him through his darkest times since he had left the island. If there were two people who truly knew Oliver, it was them.

Still, John seemed to hesitate. There was something he was holding back, and the more she thought about it, the more she felt like she already knew what was going on.

“Is this about Nick?”

The way John looked at her was enough for Felicity to know that she had hit the bull’s eye. This really was about Nick.

The thought made her heart race. John knew Nick better than anyone else. If he had a bad feeling about Nick, Felicity was sure that it was something to look into. As little as she wanted to face the idea that something might be wrong with him, she couldn’t let anyone near her children that she didn’t trust a hundred percent. With everything her kids had already been through, she couldn’t take any more risks.

“John, if there is something wrong with Nick or if you think that he can’t be trusted, I need to know it because-“

“It’s not that.”

When Felicity frowned at him, not sure what all of this was supposed to mean, John released a deep sigh. He rubbed his hands over his face for a moment before he turned more towards Felicity. Resting his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward and looked at her with tired eyes.

“Nick is a good guy. He’s reliable, and I think you can trust him whether it’s about Arrow work or when it comes to your family. I am sure he is a great brother,” John said, released another sigh, “I was just used to being your big brother.”

I was just used to being your girl. I mean, not your girl girl. Your girl.

Felicity doubted that she would ever forget those words. Maybe she only didn’t forget them because Oliver loved to tease her with it as the oxycodone should have erased that memory from her mind before it had been really saved there. Either way, she could still hear her own voice in her head whenever those words echoed through her mind.

John’s words now reminded her a lot of that time. Sara’s reappearance and her sudden role in Oliver’s life and in the team had unsettled her. She had felt left out, she had needed Oliver’s confirmation that nothing between them would change to get over it.

You’ll always be girl, Felicity.

“John, you will always be my big brother,” she told him, reaching out and taking his hand, “when Nick came back, you weren’t replaced. I just got a second big brother.”

For her, it had always been clear that having Nick in her life wouldn’t change anything between her and John. They had been siblings for the last thirteen years, just like he and Oliver had been brothers for the last thirteen years. The time they had spent together since the very beginning of Team Arrow had made them grow together more than anyone on the team. The three of them were a team within the team. They were the center of it, the ones to call the shots when it came to down to it. Nothing would ever change that.

Beyond Team Arrow, they were just family to each other, and their families were linked like they were one. Oliver had been John’s best man, just like John had been Oliver’s. She and Oliver were Sara’s godparents, just like John was Emmy’s godfather and Lyla was Tommy’s godmother. When Felicity had been suffering from prenatal depression during her pregnancy with Tommy, Lyla had been by her side to support her, and, when they had been pregnant at the same time, they had called each other daily to complain about their growing backaches. They always spent the holidays together, took care of each other’s kids if necessary and helped each other out in whatever way they could. Their kids were raised together, being best friends to a point that, when you tried to separate Addie and Connor before they were ready, one of them just threw a temper tantrum.

A life without the Diggles and without John specifically was just unthinkable.

The expression in her eyes seemed to convince John ultimately. Sucking in a deep breath, he shot her a smile. When he released the breath, his shoulders slumped. He looked like a heavy burden had just been taken from him.

“Now, after I have spent the afternoon with my other big brother,” Felicity said, squeezing his hand, “why doesn’t this big brother take me to Big Belly Burger and buy me dinner?”

John chuckled, nodding his head. “Sounds like a good idea.”

Looking down at herself, Felicity pulled at the hem of her sport shirt. “I just have to take a shower first.”

Again, John nodded. “Okay.”

Getting up, Felicity already turned towards the back of the lair where the showers were installed. Instead of going there, she turned back around towards John and spready her arms for him. He chuckled, but he got what she was intending to do. Getting up on his feet, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into one of his bearhugs. Those special hugs were the best when they came from him.

“You know, I was already feeling like a pouting toddler,” he said, his body shaking from the soft chuckles, “but I just couldn’t help myself.”

Felicity smiled. It meant a lot to her that John loved to be her big brother. Usually, he was always a little closer to Oliver though Felicity knew that it was more her personal feeling than an actual truth. It was just good to get reaffirmation how important their bond was to him too.

“As a mother of five, I know what helps with pouting toddler.”

“Milkshakes,” they both said at the same time.

Chuckling, they tightened their hold on each other, just staying in their bearhug for a little longer the way good siblings would.

* * *

@fannaz @promiseyoullbepatientwithme @bytemegeekette @felicity-said-just-in-case @phanseptiic @orangeisorange @mspotatohead14 @whentheheavenfades @emmaamelia95 @smoakingskye @seaolicity @ourwritinginvein @1022bridgetp @felicityqueenforever @leagueofolicity17 @yryssss @myhauntedblacksoul @sherlock44 @sinceriouslybea @olivyflavescentdeer @olicitys-castle @ofnothingcharming @vaelisamaza @smoakedandcharmed @alexisa1206 @mysaudadespt2 @florence-bubbles @addictiontelly @queens-of-arrows @memcjo @hysterical-for-joshifer-blog @oswinelevenforever @olicitylovemaking @bandanab310 @mymusiclove101 @lynslogic @scarletqueen23 @olicityshipper19 @alex-wesley @arrows-4ever @unabashedlynerdypatrol @louehmysoul @ligiapimenta @chattyyana @charlie-leau @coal000 @samcrowleys @ishippolivia @julianegomesqueen @malafle @miriam1779 @charlinert @melaux @ontheolicityship @myshipperlife @wrightainsley @lexi9515 @ladygreenwood @multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl @morinamel @mje-thomas @kebarry @canadianheartgirl @nannett2307 @almondblossomme @kathrynelizabeth89 @imdfabulous @mrt2501 @arsipaci14 @salasvia @brandis91 @cainc3 @morganmiguess @pr0fessi0nal-fangurl @iamisalima @nessafrancis-blog @jonhdiggle @niki-is-amazing @universed-posts @hopeful-warrior @senoritaswiftie @bellemmie @green-arrows-of-karamel @iheartarrow @olicityovereverything @oliverfel4 @olicity-in-the-heart @fullychippedcreation @geemarie @everything-but-normal-cat @myarroworld @tjmartinez @pleasantfanandstudent @j69confessional2 @scentedcolorpirate @icanica74 @tjmartinez98 @certainmentalityface @tatianadamaceno @ryelew @wildwillowzepplin @missafairy @letsplaymurde-r @lipizette @positivepiper @nuttymilkshakehologram @laksagirl @turnupthemusicandscream @pumpernickle93 @onceuponanolicity @1106angel @jaspertown @fadinglands @morganashimi83 @mochababychristy @omglovechrissie @mariejr88-blog @thetaufactor @onceuponanolicity @speakandseethetruth @bri206 @aglasgo @geemarie @pineprincess @nerdgirljen @eternal-olicity14 @allyouhadtodowas-stay-stay-stay @lovelycssefan @tsseract @flowerandsunshine @dcnmarvelgamergeek @blondeeoneexox @monetsmark @bb-olicity @mashamarty @rulerofsilence @erika-amber @nothingmorethanmyotps @kayleenyc @tonto16 @olicityfluv @olicitea1990 @haahaaa2408 @pattid1 @faegal04 @24karatgem @wrldtravler @readerkas @olicity-beliver @greencoffeecups @snorlaxishere

(If you want to be tagged or untagged, just let me know. :))

#arrow #olicity #olicity fic #olicity fanfic #time for a story

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bffhreprise · 4 years ago

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Entry 344

Watching Dani solve crazy puzzles while chatting with the others, I was really glad no one had ever put me through all that work for my birthday. Dani seemed to be enjoying herself, but all of the time spent searching for presents took away from time spent enjoying the presents! If anyone shared my thoughts, they weren’t bringing them up, so I kept my mouth shut, other than to comment about how incredibly smart the girl was. Deyanira would have loved seeing this. Maybe Mila will show her a recording when she arrives.

“What was that?” asked one of the twins.

“Just a little spell I taught him on our honeymoon. He was letting Dani know his parents are here.” explained Alma, looking weirdly natural with a smile. “You'd be amazed how much he's taught me as well.”

“What?” questioned the other twin in blatant disbelief.

James, smirking at her, asked, “Mila, mind showing me of what Jarod's buckle is composed?”

A diagram of the belt buckle appeared on a different mirror than the one showing Dani’s hunt. Looking at the chemical formulas, I was just glad I didn’t have any job that had me reviewing chemistry. There was little chance such a job would come to me in the first place, but… I could imagine the pay would be extra good. Everyone knew Jarod’s average job paid far more than most of ours, but the stuff he did was way out there. Well, everything he did in that lab of his was way out there. Sometimes I wondered how a guy like that was still so down to Earth, but he was a great pal, watching James with interest.

After a few seconds of looking at the diagram, James turned around and glanced at Jarod’s belt.

“Have a problem with my… Whoa! Is this real gold!?” asked Jarod in shock as he caught sight of his new bling.

My mouth was hanging open. There had been no transition I could see. One moment his belt was a typical silver, and then it was gold.

“That has to be an illusion. Transforming substances accurately is impossible.” asserted a twin.

“You'll have to change if he doesn't dismiss it. That doesn't work with your outfit.” insisted the other one.

Not doubting James for a second, I quickly exclaimed “I'll take some bling!”

From off to my side, Dejon asked “Is that how you became so rich?”

“No. I wasn't nearly so capable with that type of magic before my honeymoon.” replied James with a smile.

With one of the twins bent over to examine the buckle, I kept my eyes carefully elsewhere, not wanting my friend to think I was enjoying the view too much

Patting her back, Jarod said, “I'll do an analysis on it later.”

“Should be roughly fourteen karat.” stated James. “I didn't feel too much gold would be good for a buckle, but I wanted to pay for the inconvenience.” He playfully winked, but still didn’t reply to me.

As Jarod laughed, I waved my hand in James’ view. “Seriously. I don’t mind pure gold.” I told him, picturing myself with a number of shiny adornments.

“And where would you sell it?” questioned my sis, frowning at me as if I had done something wrong.

“Sell it? I really want the bling.” I assured her. “I figure Jarod or Mila will probably help touch it up as needed.”

She just rolled her eyes, acting put upon by my tastes.

Catching my eye, Alma looked almost like her previous self as she said, “You can afford your own bling without troubling my husband.” Even those words didn’t quite have the kick they did before her honeymoon. There wasn’t really any hint of danger in her tone.

“Troubling? He made that look easy!” insisted Dejon, who surprisingly seemed to be taking my side.

“The spell was incredibly complex and took a large amount of energy, so not easy by any standard I recognize.” argued one of the twins, who probably had actually watched the spell.

Sometimes, I did wish I had a knack for using that type of magic, especially when James did something unbelievable, but most of the descriptions sounded like so much work.

“You really must get used to watching magic around you.” insisted the other twin as she frowned at me.

As far as I knew, no one had a clue I had ever even seen the energy. I was taking that secret to my grave if I got to keep skipping out on magic practice.

Before I could reply, both sets of double doors opened, revealing James’ parents strolling inside.

“Good morning.” stated Mr. Somerset as he carried a large present into the house.

Mrs. Somerset waved and asked “Where's the birthday girl?”

All of us looked up at the screen where Dani seemed deep in conversation with the little fairy from the forest.

“She has apparently been distracted. Alma and I hid her presents throughout the yard and house with clues where to find them.” explained James to his folks.

Alma grinned as she said, “I blame Aaliyah. She's the one who told us that simply handing over gifts from us was too boring for our daughter.”

“Dani enjoys the puzzles.” insisted James somewhat defensively. Seeing him interact with his parents was refreshing, reminding us that he really was still human. More often than not, he seemed… greater.

“Jarod, dear, that buckle really doesn't go well with your shirt.” commented Mrs. Somerset, catching sight of the bling.

“Blame your son.” complained Ai and Mai in unison as they stared daggers at James.

“Yeah, well… I felt like demonstrating a spell the twins would find difficult, and turning his belt buckle to gold qualified in my mind.” replied James, still sounding defensive.

Mr. Somerset just shook his head as he said, “Your mother's right, you do have the golden touch.”

I laughed with the rest. Who could argue when James was making the company flourish.

“Happy birthday!” exclaimed Mrs. Somerset, stepping over to embrace Dani.

With the birthday girl back inside, we had a wonderful breakfast at the long kitchen table with even more varieties of food available than normal. If not for the few of us with bottomless pits, so much food would go to waste daily. Over breakfast, Dani pleased with Mr. Somerset to join her in the hunt for presents. Kayla, of course, couldn’t be left out when Dani’s pleas made the hunt sound so excited. She almost even had me convinced, but my stuffed belly helped to keep me seated.

Mrs. Somerset followed the rest of us into the ballroom, where some of us discretely logged into Ancient Tribes of Earth while occasionally glancing over to see how Dani was doing. I doubted I even got to play for an hour before Dani came inside, but I was looking forward to seeing her reaction to my present. Despite James, and even Alma, assuring us that we didn’t have to get Dani anything, no one wanted to be the one person who didn’t.

Knowing that Dani was bound to already have any serious gift I could dream up giving her, I went with a gag gift, surprisingly the only one. Dani was surprisingly delighted when turning the handle produced music, but seeing her jump as the clown popped out was hilarious! The shock and slowly-spreading grin were fantastic! The look she gave as she recovered and thanked me made me a little nervous, but I doubted she’d could one-up me on gags. Despite seeming almost as old as most of us, Dani had obviously lived in a very secluded part of the world. Someone with her looks and vibrant skin would have hit the net the day she entered a city if she hadn’t been in the middle of nowhere.

My jaw dropped open when I had found out that Dani had never seen Star Wars. As was tradition here, all of us showed up in the theater with full costumes, slightly improved from last time. Jarod and the twins were oddly in agreement against wearing exactly the same thing twice. Jarod loved to tinker too much to not make any adjustments on the sabers and utility belts. The twins were just fashion nuts, two of the few people willing to spend hours talking with Brenna about her modeling jobs. No kid of mine would ever do modeling, not when there were so many more entertaining things to do.

Dani was prone to loud exclamations throughout the first movie. She was probably thinking that she could easily take some of the Jedi in a fight. With James dressed as Darth Vader, who was going to argue if she declared war on the rest of us?

A spontaneous fight broke out after the first movie as a few of us had restroom breaks. I had expected as much and was raring to go, charging at one of the twins with my lightsaber. That… didn’t go so well. I did manage to get a sneaky attack in on Sis before Emma cut me down. Avoiding Dani turned out as a safe plan than actually fighting the girl for me.

First off, Dani knew basically nothing about Force powers, having only seen a tiny bit from Episode IV. She had hurled fire in a couple different ways that seemed unbefitting the force, and she actually threw some real electricity instead of an illusion of it another time. Then there were the magical traps she had made on the fly… James straightened her out each time before anyone was injured, but I still felt safer fighting on the other side of the room as her.

After a good battle, we all had some lunch, which was an even grander affair than breakfast had been. The fight coming back a little in the kitchen ended with us all being sent to the dining hall. Marco was adamant that his kitchen would not have any sort of fighting, and James backed him up immediately, apologizing for all of us.

Though they had plans to head back home after lunch, Dani had easily persuaded her grandparents into staying for another movie… and then another. When dinner was over, they finally were allowed to leave, with Alma convincing Dani that they really didn’t want to spend the night here, not when they had plans for the next day already.

Surprisingly, we didn’t hit the prequels after Mr. and Mrs. Somerset left. Dancing was apparently something people did in the middle of nowhere for birthdays, and Dani could really dance. None of us had a problem with showing off some moves, since our dance parties were a bit rare, but I doubted I was the only one pointedly keeping my eyes off the Boss’ daughter whenever I wasn’t dancing with her. Even Deyanira, who had shown up for dinner with a necklace for Dani, admitted that there was something about how Dani moved when we were alone later. Yep, life here was never dull.

#Best Friend For Hire Reprise #Best #Friend #For #Hire #Reprise #Jovial Times #Jovial #Times #Fantasy #Fiction #Story

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scaryscarecrows · 6 years ago

Text

Long Live the Knight

AN: I considered tacking this onto ‘Returning Home’, but. Well. Why would I do that when I can hurt you again? For free! Your choice as to whether it’s an alternate ending or canon; whichever makes you happy, my friends.

Happy birthday, Jason!

* * *

Even though it’s technically their fault, Antoine is grateful there’s no emergency services coming. That is one more headache they can’t afford to deal with right now.

(Although they could...maybe...sort of take them hostage? No, no, they can’t, but…)

The rain is doing a fine job of getting the fire under control, but somehow that just makes this worse. With the inferno gone, they can get a good look at what’s left of Arkham. It’s not much. There’s a couple of walls that survived the blast, but at least one of them looks like it’s swaying where it stands. Everything else is a pile of bricks and smouldering wood, with a few broken gargoyles scattered amongst the rubble.

“What do we do?” Jimmy’s whispering. He’s fine, minus the headache; whatever the Bat nailed him with didn’t last long. Or wasn’t enough. Who knows. Who cares. “Do we just...leave?”

He doesn’t know. Nowhere was this possibility mentioned. Even all the way down the list to contingency plan fuckin’ Z, this was not planned for.

“Antoine?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know!” He gestures to the buildings. Or. What’s left of them. “I don’t know, man, just...just give me a minute, okay?”

Okay. Okay. Gordon and Robin are in the car. Gordon wasn’t too happy with being a technical hostage yet again, but he’d shut up about it for the time being in favor of making sure Robin’s okay. He seems to be fine. You know. Given the circumstances. He’s not gonna bleed out or anything awful. But…

Logically, he knows the boss has to be dead. There’s no way in hell he could have survived that blast, especially not with that gunshot wound, and…

But he’s shrugged off explosions before. And they can’t just leave him here, but…

He has no idea what to do.

“Do a walkthrough,” he says at last. “See if he turns up, and if he doesn’t, we’ll...we’ll go. I guess. I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

Antoine has no idea which is worse; finding what’s left of him, or not finding him at all.

“Somebody stay with Gordon.”

“On it.”

Trent gets Gordon duty, in case the guy tries anything, and the rest of them spread out to search the grounds. Well. As much as they can, anyway.

There’s no sign of the Knight. No sign of Batman, either-what was that?

Nothing. Just. Just wind. Or rubble settling, whatever. Nothing living.

(He doubts there’s anything living under that.)

He should, he guesses, get back on the main line and...and tell people that the Knight’s gone, give the order to pull out and...he doesn’t know. There weren’t supposed to be fatalities.

(There wasn’t supposed to be this fatality.)

There’s a noise and he flails until the flashlight hits a shadow a few feet away. His first thought is a terrified, BATMAN!, but it’s not Batman. No ears.

“Identify yourself!”

Whoever it is says nothing and he moves closer. Maybe Batman lost his cowl-that’s not the Bat. Holy shit, it’s the boss. How the hell…?

Doesn’t matter.

“I found him!”

“What?”

“Where are you?”

“Over here!”

Frank’s sprinting over here already, Mark not far behind, and Antoine checks-more out of habit than anything-for Batman before following.

The Knight doesn’t see to see them, even when they get close. His hand’s still plastered to his side, but--

--he’s going down. Frank catches him before he hits the ground and he chokes and tries to right himself, legs twitching like an insect’s, but Frank’s already easing him down with a soft, “We gotcha…we gotcha, you’re okay…you’re okay, just don’t move, you’re gonna hurt yourself…”

“Y-you came back.” He reaches up and grabs onto Frank’s arm, the one bracing his shoulder. “You came back, y-you didn’t—”

“Sh-sh-sh.” Frank moves to let Mark close and tilts the boss’s head away from his side. “Don’t. Just don’t, we’re gonna fix you up, just stay still, okay?”

The Knight gags, back arching, and now there’s blood on his lips and dripping down his chin. Frank pulls a glove off to wipe it away and Mark swears.

“Shit-okay. Okay. Sir? Anything I should know about?”

“Mm.” He swallows, face scrunching up in a clear blech, and gasps out, “I dunno. I dunno, it hurts—”

“Shh,” Frank soothes, and the boss whines. “It’s okay, you’re gonna be fine. Just stay still.”

“Yeah,” Mark says, and oh no. He sounds. Not mad. “You’re gonna be fine.” Oh no. “I’m not…okay. Okay. Riley! I don’t care what grandmas you have to run down, get the car here, close as you can get it without hitting us. Today!” Antoine doesn’t hear him leave-didn’t even hear him come up-but that doesn’t mean anything. He’s not the stealth expert for nothing. “Okay, boss, you gotta stay still, and you gotta stay with me. All right?”

“M’sorry.” He swallows again, doesn’t even seem to realize that Frank’s started petting his head. “M’sorry, I-I-I tried—”

“Shh. You’re okay, you’re fine, we gotcha, just stay still, okay? Stay with us, Mark’ll patch you up, good as…” Yeah. “Before.”

Somebody gets out another flashlight and Jesus he doesn’t look good. He’s white as a sheet and there’s so much blood and—

That’s not really the Knight, not anymore. That’s a kid, a hurt, terrified kid, and he looks like he’s about to die.

“M’sorry,” he’s still mumbling. “God, m’sorry, I jus’…I didn’t…”

“Shh.” Frank’s fingers cup his chin to keep him from looking at what Mark’s doing. “Shh, you’re fine, just calm down. Breathe with me, come on…”

“Mm—”

“Shh. Don’t talk, just breathe,” Frank murmurs, fingers still stroking his hair. “In and out, nice and easy…you’re gonna be okay, just stay still…”

“Gimme more light,” Mark barks over his shoulder. Then, softer, “Stay still, sir…okay-no-no, you gotta stay awake, boss, c’mon, look at me.”

He shudders, just once, and whispers one last, “Sorry,” before his fingers slip off Frank’s arm and he goes still.

There’s suddenly headlights, and then Mark’s shouting for Trent to ‘get his California-king-sized ass over here and be useful’. But the boss’s eyes are closed, a-and this wasn’t supposed to happen and—

He’s just so still.

* * *

Antoine’s playing a hidden object game when the boss rasps, “George Washington’s in the clock case.”

So he is. Antoine clicks him, pauses, and sets the laptop aside, out of harm’s way.

“You back with us this time, sir?”

“Mm.” He looks at the IV in his hand and grimaces. “Ev’r’yone okay?”

Antoine is seriously, seriously considering beating the dumbass to death. But he knows he’d regret it later, which means he settles for envisioning it, taking a few deep breaths, and trying to keep a neutral tone when he answers, “Yeah. Everyone’s fine. No sign of Batman, but there’s people on the alert.”

Antoine hopes, he really does, that Batman is still buried in the rubble. He would have liked to handle this mess himself-and has been, to an extent-but the last couple of times the boss was conscious, he’d been mentally back at Arkham and freaking out about that. So he’s been hovering from here, sometimes bullying a private into Skyping him and carrying the tablet through the rubble so he can see things. Not that there’s been much to see.

“Good.” The boss yawns and squirms under the blankets a little more. “Status report.”

He’d regret it, honest he would…

“Mark’s gonna kill you for that stunt.”

“S’that all.”

Really. You know what, screw you, Mark, get in line.

“I’m gonna kill you for that stunt.” The boss grins up at him, because he’s an asshole. “I’ll do it! There’s sharp objects in here, I will not hesitate to stab you with something! You fuckin’ left us in a hostile situation with no way of finding out what was going on, brought a building down on yourself, and flatlined. Twice. Two. Whole. Times! Give me one good reason not to stab you. Sir.”

“Paycheck?”

Breathe. Breathe deeply. Let peace and serenity flow through his veins and prevent him from using a scalpel in a way the Surgeon Gods did not intend.

“Seriously.”

“I think s’a good reason.”

“That-that’s not the-fine.” He huffs and throws his weight back so that the chair tilts onto two legs. “It was still stupid, and Mark really is gonna kill you for it, and I’m gonna be cheering him on in the background.”

“Mm.” He turns his gaze to the ceiling, eyes already fluttering shut. “F-five minutes. Gimme five minutes.”

He knows he’s just gonna pass back out. And he should probably go and get Mark anyway. But…well…nothing’s beeping angrily, and it’s not like Antoine can see the future. The boss might still be awake in five minutes.

“Sure, sir,” he says, leaning back down to collect his laptop. “Five minutes it is.”

So sue him. He’s tired. He can put off his revenge for five minutes.

He really does mean for it to be five minutes, but then he gets very comfortable, and the loading screen is sort of hypnotic, and, well…

It isn’t five minutes. He’s not entirely asleep, either; he registers someone coming in and muttering about family dumbasses, and then the someone (or a different someone?) takes his laptop and replaces it with a blanket, still muttering about ‘dumbfucks with no self-preservation’ and ‘do no harm could mean do no permanent damage’.

He blinks and then Mark’s shaking him and grumbling, “If you have a crick, I’m going to laugh at you and then get rid of it by straight-up karate kicking you in the face.” How will that help a crick. What’s happening. “He wake up at all?”

“Little bit.” What year is it. “Enough for me to yell at him.”

“I wanted first crack.”

“Move your face, lose your place.”

He cracks his neck, then his knuckles, and realizes it’s been, like, two hours. Wow. Mark scowls at him and huffs, “You’re nice, though. You suck at yelling.”

“I threatened to stab him.”

“And ruin my nice, neat, stitches?” He didn’t think this through. “Stay here. If he has another episode, you get to be the backup.”

Oh, great. Just what he’s always wanted.

“Hey, boss,” Mark says, voice unnervingly soft. “You wanna wake up for me?”

“Mm…”

“Wake up, asshole.”

“Hrm…?”

“You heard me. Rise and shine.”

He’s not intervening, he wants to make that clear. Partly because he doesn’t feel that charitable, partly because he does indeed have a crick and he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.

“Jones…?”

Mark is silent. From here, Antoine can see the vein in his temple pulsing.

“Do you know where you are?” he asks at last, voice back to the scary-soft tone. The boss is quiet, probably realizing what sort of danger he’s in.

“Med bay,” he says carefully. Mark nods, slow and exaggerated.

“That’s right. And do you remember why you’re here?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me. Just so I can be sure.”

“I’d imagine it has something to do with the bullet wound--”

“THE FUCKING FEAR TOXIN BULLET,” Mark snaps, and then he’s calm again. Or. Sort of calm. The boss, to his credit, doesn’t try to hide under the blankets. Much.

“In my defense, I didn’t know about that part.”

“Of course you didn’t. Continue.”

Antoine fully pretends not to notice the look of ‘please get me out of this’. He’s not doing shit. He’s tired, and this is well-deserved.

“The building collapsed.”

“And why was that?” When the Knight doesn’t answer, Mark steeples his fingers and gazes over the top of them. “What’s that? You’re not remembering? Hmm, perhaps you took a knock to the head when the building collapsed. Yeah, that’s it. So I’ll bring you up to speed, sir, don’t you worry.” Judging from the boss’s expression, he’s...probably wishing he was dead. “Well, the way I heard it, you decided that the best course of action was to lock yourself in with a, if you’ll pardon the expression, batshit crazy Batman and blow up the goddamn asylum.”

“That’s...about what happened, yes.”

Mark gives him the blandest smile Antoine has ever seen.

“Care to tell me why that was the best you could come up with?”

“The good of the many--”

“The many call bullshit. You do not-do not-pull that again, so help me, or I will personally staple a toddler to your back to guilt you into making better choices!” How-no. No. Antoine doesn’t wanna know. “Is that clear?” The Knight’s quiet and Mark sighs. “Lemme see...I’m thinking you got yourself into a pocket when everything came down. Few scrapes. Climbing out made that bullet wound worse, but your armor kept you together enough. Barely,” he warns, one finger popping up. “Do not try and get up, don’t you dare so much as think about doing a damn thing until I say. You still flatlined on me twice, and that toxin did you no favors.” He clicks on his penlight. “Lemme see...that’s cleared out, at least. No more green tinge.”

“Did I...say anything. While I was, ah…” The boss waves his hand a little bit. “Not all here?”

The short, honest answer? Yeah. A lot. Is Antoine going to tell him that? Hell no.

“Not much, boss,” Mark says shortly. “You weren’t really that coherent. Okay, follow my finger, please…”

“Gordon. And. And Robin. They okay?”

Mark sighs.

“Yeah. Only one in really bad shape is your dumb ass. Gordon had scrapes, Robin needed a few stitches. We dropped ‘em off by the GCPD when we were done.”

“Batman?”

“We’re still looking.”

“Great.” He closes his eyes. “Keep an eye out for--”

For the love of God, really?

“Boss,” he says dully, “we are handling this. Maybe shut up and go back to sleep.”

“Old habits,” the Knight murmurs. Mark mimes strangling him, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “S’r’y.”

“Hm.” Mark stows the penlight...honestly, Antoine doesn’t know. It was in his hand and now it’s not. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be in later to make sure you’re not dying.”

“‘ve had worse…”

“Yeah,” Mark says carefully. “I, uh, I kinda figured.”

He leaves and Antoine wonders if he can go back to his nap. Is his laptop battery dead-oh God. The crick is real. The crick is real. Maybe being karate-kicked would help after all. Mark? Mark, come back.

“What did I say.”

“Sir?”

“You heard me.”

Shit.

“Um.” Can he lie? No, no, lying is not his strong suit. “You really weren’t. Um. That coherent. Mostly, er, screaming. Not a lot of words.” It was a little closer to fifty-fifty, but eh. Semantics. “And, uh, you were kinda convinced we were still at Arkham, so a bit of that.”

“What else.”

Damn.

“I wasn’t here?”

“Bullshit.”

It takes all his willpower not to shrink into a puddle on the floor and flow gently out of the room to safety.

“I don’t remember?”

“Drouot.”

Ngh.

“A little bit about the, uh, the Joker, boss. Not much-” Well, that they could understand, anyway, with no context and all. “-but a bit.” Enough. Enough for Mark to explain a couple of scars that he’d had trouble pinning down, and enough to rattle him badly. He’d sent one of his little medical minions to get him a bottle of Jack Daniels when it was all over. “Y’know.”

The Knight sighs and drapes an arm over his face.

“Shit.”

There’s nothing to say to that, and Antoine leans down for his laptop. If it’s dead, it’s at least something to use as a shield against the awkwardness.

Mercifully, the boss’s forcefully calm breathing gives way to the shallow, even breaths of sleep in three minutes. Horrible conversation averted. And his laptop still has battery life.

Not that it matters, really. Nothing’s turned up, and honestly, Antoine’s pretty much convinced that nothing will turn up. Batman is either burnt to ashes or holed up somewhere, hunched over a rat carcass and giggling. And as long as he’s not here, that’s...that’s kind of enough, y’know?

Somebody should probably let Gordon know, just in case, but...later. Gordon’s lived this long, even with all those kidnappings. He’ll be fine.

Antoine doesn’t mean to return to his nap. He really doesn’t. But it’s been a long few days, and nothing’s happening for once, and…

Zzzz.

THE END

#Jason Todd #Antoine Drouot #Mark Jones #could be my canon could be not #up to you #long live the knight

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astroni800 · 6 years ago

Conversation

Since Sonic Twitter Takeover #4 transcription by pacifistchara is no longer available I reupload it here:

Sonic: Hey, what’s up, everyone? Sonic here, excited to be with you all for our fourth ever Twitter Takeover! You can ask me any questions with—

[knocking sounds in background]

Sonic: Oh, sorry, one sec. Yeah? Hello? Oh, Tails!

Tails: Hey, Sonic! Heard you were doing that Twitter thing again! Can I join this time?

Sonic: Of course! You, uh…you didn’t invite Knuckles, though, right?

Tails: Nah, just me! But, uh, I think Eggman was actually waiting outsi—

Eggman: Surprise!

Tails: [sighs]

Eggman: You didn’t think you could host another of these without me around, did you, Sonic? Ooh, and I brought a friend!

Shadow: I’m still not your friend, Doctor. I just felt this Twitter Takeover could use a little help from the Ultimate Lifeform.

Sonic: Ah. Well, it’s a bit crowded in here now, but we’ll make this work! Tweet us your questions today on Twitter with the hashtag #AskSonic, and you might get a special response from us!

Shadow: Wait. Why is it “#AskSonic”? I think it should be “#AskShadow”.

Eggman: Or #AskEggman! I do have a PhD.

Tails: Or #AskTails! I know all sorts of stuff, I’m really smart—!

Sonic: Guys, guys, guys. Guys! It’s just #AskSonic, okay? You can all answer, don’t worry!

Tails: Fine…

Eggman: [sighs loudly]

Shadow: [indistinct grumbling]

Sonic: So send us your questions here on Twitter for the next six hours, and you might get a response from us! Until then…

All: See ya!

Shadow: Hmph. It really should be #AskShadow.

~ #1 ~

Eggman: Let’s see…here’s a question from Sonicguy001. He says, “Tails, what’s the greatest thing you’ve ever invented?”

Tails: Oh, the greatest thing I’ve ever invented? Oh, man, but there’s so many! Uh…maybe the Tornado? No, no, maybe Miles Electric?

Shadow: “Miles Electric”?

Sonic: Oh, that little translator pad you keep with you?

Tails: Yeah! Or – wait, I know, maybe…the Sea Fox!

Eggman: None of these are really that impressive, in my opinion.

Shadow: I’ve never even heard of the Sea Fox.

Tails: Oh, right. We hadn’t really met you yet.

Sonic: Yeah, Game Gear days, my dude.

Eggman: Tails is responsible for the death of so many batteries.

Tails: Thanks for your question, Sonicguy! Between us, I hope my best invention is yet to come!

~ #2 ~

Shadow: TassaneeKunchai asks… If I pronounced that name wrong, change it. Anyway, they ask, “Eggman, do you have any hobbies? If so, what are they?” Heh. This should be good.

Eggman: Ooh, I like this one! Let’s see, my hobbies include long walks on the beach, creating robot armies, and oh, of course – conquering the entire planet you live on.

Sonic: Seriously? Can you really call it a hobby if it’s something you fail at every time you try it?

Tails: Hahaha, are you talking about him conquering the planet or the long walks on the beach, Sonic?

Shadow: He means both. The doctor spends far too much time indoors.

Eggman: I do not! I get outside all the time. You guys, stop ganging up on me! Anyway, thanks for the question, Tassa… [stutters] When I take over this planet, unlike these three, you’ll be on my good list.

~ #3 ~

Eggman: Hope I’m pronouncing this right… LoveyDoveyii asks, “Hey guys, hope you’re all having a nice day. To Sonic, if you were to list everything you like about your little buddy Tails, what would it be?”

Tails: Aww, this one’s about me?

Sonic: Well, let’s see. Tails is awesome for a ton of reasons! But I’ll list the big ones. He’s always there for me when I need him, and—

Shadow: Sure. Just like that time you were sent in a capsule that exploded from the Space Colony ARK, right?

Eggman: Oh, right, I did do that.

Tails: Hey, no, I—!

Sonic: Plus he’s always optimistic, he’s a genius mechanic, and I know he always does the right thing. He once even saved all of Station Square from Eggman!

Tails: Haha, I mean, y'know…

Eggman: I wasn’t really trying, you know.

Sonic: So, anyway, those are just a few of the things about Tails that I think are great. You’re the best, man.

Tails: Aw, thanks, Sonic!

Shadow: I think I’m going to throw up.

~ #4 ~

Tails: Here’s one! Col0rsandmayhem asks, “What are some of your favorite snacks?”

Eggman: Oh, wonderful timing! We’ve just arrived at today’s Twitter Takeover Sponsorship! Here, Sonic, read this.

[paper rustling]

Sonic: Wait, do I really have to—

Eggman: Come on, just read it or I don’t get my free minifridge!

Sonic: UGH, fine. [in a bored monotone] “This Twitter Takeover is brought to you by Chaos Cola, the official cola of Chao Races and Chao Karate worldwide. Crack open a relatively chilled Chaos Cola today.”

Tails: Personally, I like their mint juice drinks better.

Shadow: You’re all such corporate sellouts. I say support indie drinks. There’s nothing cooler than supporting the little guy.

~ #5 ~

Eggman: Jirard the Completionist asks, “Hey guys, huge fan, all hail Shadow—”

Shadow: Ooh, yeah, I like this guy already.

Eggman: Shadow, let me finish, please. [clears throat] “What is your ideal chilidog? Does Eggman’s have egg on top?”

Sonic: Ah. Plain dog, hot chili, and cheese. Easy answer.

Tails: I mostly give my chilidogs to Sonic. But I think I get the same thing he does.

Shadow: First, bonus points for showing me the respect I deserve, Completionist. Second, I add peppers, and even more cheese than Sonic. Just to prove I’m better than him.

Eggman: Mine would have three eggs on top, all with little Eggman faces—

Sonic: Hey, Eggman, check this out. I was searching this dude and he’s got a band called “Big Bad Bosses” with you in it!

Eggman: Huh? That can’t be right. My musical career is kept remarkably secret!

Tails: Oh, wow, there’s a whole Eggman song and everything!

Shadow: If you’ll excuse us, Jirard, we’re about to watch this video and laugh profusely at Eggman. Thanks for the great question.

~ #6 ~

Sonic: Evil_Antho asks “Hi guys! Question for your glorious, egg-shaped mad genius…” You know what, I think we’re just gonna throw this one out.

[paper rustling]

Eggman: Hey, give me that! Let’s see. They want to know if I secretly keep a Chao Garden in my evil lair. “If so, would you please share your secrets to Chao care?”

Tails: Eggman, you have a Chao Garden in your evil lair?

Eggman: What? Heh, not at all, I wouldn’t do that! Even if the evil ones are surprisingly cute, and understand me at a psychological level far deeper than anyone else ever could.

Shadow: Doctor, last time I was at your lair, I could’ve sworn I saw little Chao toys all over the floor—

Eggman: Nononono, those were, those were…those were Tails’s.

Tails: WHAT? That is NOT TRUE!

Eggman: Anyway, uh, thanks for the question, Evil, but I most definitely do NOT have a bunch of secret evil Chao in my lair, haha. CUT THE MIKE! CUT THE MIKE!

~ #7 ~

Shadow: SlashClaws asks, “Eggman, have you ever used your tech for a non-evil purpose?”

Eggman: Good question! But of course, SlashClaws. I did help save the planet from a falling space colony once.

Tails: Yeah, but to be fair, you also kinda started all that.

Eggman: Okay, then how about…I once used it to stop the Deadly Six from also destroying the world.

Sonic: Yeah, but that was using your creation, Eggman. You started that one too.

Eggman: Okay, wow, you guys are just really being mean to me here. I’m not that evil—

Shadow: Don’t trust anything the doctor says, ever. That’s my motto.

Tails: I agree.

Eggman: I just can’t win with you people! Thanks for the question, SlashClaws.

~ #8 ~

Tails: Oh, I got a fun one here! maliasorce asks – sorry if I said that wrong, heh – “Sonic, what is the key to your positivity? What makes you so optimistic 24/7?”

Shadow: Yes, please tell us so I can finally put into words what bothers me about you so much.

Sonic: Hey, Malia! Great question. And, uh, ignore Shadow. [mockingly] He’s just grumpy because he hasn’t had a question in a bit.

Eggman: So what is it that keeps you so positive all the time, Sonic?

Sonic: Easy! Part of it’s my friends, like Tails and Knuckles, and part of it is knowing that no matter what, we can always overcome whatever life throws at us.

Shadow: Aw, how adorable. And remarkably cheesy.

Tails: He’s right, though! Everyone has bad days and rough times, but I think it always helps to know that even if they’re rough, things are going to get better someday.

Eggman: Thanks for the question, Malia.

~ #9 ~

Sonic: All right. Gushers asks, “Yes, hi, Sonic, sir!” Wow, so formal. “Why do people always send me this?” Oh, and there’s a…picture here…

Tails: It’s a picture of you, Sonic!

Eggman: Whoa, looks like an old one! What is this, Dreamcast days?

Shadow: It’s a little picture of you saying “I like Gusher”?

Eggman: Wait, I know what this is…

Shadow: Leave it to me, Eggman. I’ve been waiting for this moment. [clears throat] Silence, brand.

Sonic: Whoa, guys, chill out. I like their Twitter. Thanks, Gushers!

Tails: PS, if you wanna send us any free samples, my workshop’s address is 101 Mystic Ruins Lane, Suite—

Shadow: Tails, you’re doing it again. Stop being a corporate sellout. Listen, Gushers, if you send any samples out, you send ‘em straight to me.

~ #10 ~

Tails: Thomas Capella asks, “To everyone except Shadow, because he already answered, what’s your favorite anime?”

Eggman: Oh, mine’s a bit dark, you might not like it, it involves ghouls and the like…

Sonic: Ha, mine’s easy. Sonic X! Not that I’m biased or anything. How about you, Tails?

Tails: I like the one with the kid who becomes a hero. “One for All!”

Shadow: Mine’s still the one with the girl and the scissor blade. It’s the greatest anime of all time, and none of you will ever change my mind.

~ #11 ~

Shadow: _kimmyko_ asks “Hey, Eggman, where do I sign up to join the Eggman Empire? Is there a paid internship program or something? Asking for a friend.”

Sonic: Whoa, whoa, whoa, kimmyko, let me stop you right there. You really don’t want this internship, trust me.

Tails: Hey, I could use an intern! I mean, I couldn’t pay you in anything but gold rings, but—

Eggman: Would you two stop trying to poach my new hires? People wonder why HR can’t find quality candidates, and now I realize it’s you two! kimmyko, I don’t pay my interns because it’s the most evil thing I can do. But I’d be happy to have you join the Eggman Empire.

Shadow: Between us, I recommend going your own way. You don’t need Eggman or Sonic and Tails. Trust only yourself.

Eggman: Exactly. Trust yourself to ignore Shadow and follow me! Welcome aboard!

~ #12 ~

Tails: Hey, Eggman, what’s that one?

Eggman: Let’s see. SonicReikai asks, “For your Spanish fans, could you four please sing the Macarena?”

Tails: Wait, you guys sang last time?

Sonic: I mean, yeah, a little bit.

Shadow: You have no proof I sang anything.

Eggman: Well, they soon will. Let’s do it!

All: [a few lines’ worth of indistinct mumble-singing] Ay macarena!

Tails: [a few more lines’ worth of indistinct mumble-singing]

All: Ay macarena!

~ #13 ~

Tails: Heh, I like this one. Brandon Santiago asks, “To Shadow, if you’re the ultimate lifeform, how come you need your rocket shoes to run fast while Sonic doesn’t, hmmm?”

Eggman: Ooh, he’s going right in with that one, isn’t he?

Sonic: [mockingly] Yeah, Shadow, why do you need rocket shoes to run fast?

Shadow: What a presumptuous question from this “Brandon” person. I’m not just fast because of my rocket shoes, Brandon. I’m the Ultimate Lifeform. And you would be wise to respect my power!

Eggman: Whoa, he’s actually getting a little angry.

Tails: Do you think he’s upset because it’s maybe a little true?

Shadow: No, it’s NOT true! Tails, you couldn’t even come close to beating me if you tried. Especially if—

Sonic: Guys, why is Shadow glowing red?

Shadow: —especially if I—

Eggman: Oh, no, I’ve seen this before—

Shadow: Chaos—

Everyone else: [screaming]

Shadow: —Blast!

Everyone else: [screaming continues]

~ #14 ~

Tails: DarkNecroDizzy asks, “Hey, Sonic, what do you do with all the golden rings you’ve collected over the years, anyways?”

Shadow: Yes, what do you do with those, Sonic?

Eggman: Ha, he doesn’t have that many! I normally knock them all out of him.

Sonic: Really? Good question, NecroDizzy. I save a lot of them, but I do spend a good amount on Chao and power-ups, too.

Tails: And I use them to fund my creations!

Shadow: I donate all my gold rings to those in need. Check out Global Giving, St. Jude, and Extra Life for some great places to send your gold rings, too.

Eggman: Shadow’s a philanthropist? Who knew? Thanks, NecroDizzy!

~ #15 ~

Shadow: LuckyPaola asks, “Dear Sonic, Tails, Shadow, and Doctor Eggman, what do you eat for breakfast?”

Sonic: Oh, hey, they drew a little image here.

Tails: Oh my gosh, this is so cute!

Eggman: Oh, hey, that’s me on the right there! Am I…am I flipping eggs or pancakes?

Sonic: It’s gotta be eggs, because you’re Eggman, right?

Eggman: Well, sure, but I actually really love making waffles for breakfast!

Shadow: Am I drinking tea or coffee?

Tails: Do you drink a lot of coffee, Shadow?

Shadow: No, I just eat the beans straight. Didn’t you listen to the last Twitter Takeover?

Sonic: Tails, we’ve got little breakfast chilidogs, I think!

Tails: This is my new favorite art ever! Thanks, LuckyPaola!

~ #16 ~

Shadow: Recko the Dark asks, “Well, Eggman, would you sell TV products? What would be the first one that would occur to you?”

Eggman: TV products, hmm… Well, that’s easy. I’ve got so many wonderful products I’ve made over the years.

Tails: All of them remarkably dangerous and definitely not safe for TV.

Eggman: Oh, that’s not true, Tails! I built the Hedgehog Trapper 9000, which is only dangerous if you’re the one being trapped.

Tails: That one has sawblades!

Eggman: Purely decorative, don’t worry! And I’m working out this neat design for a new Metal Sonic – he’s got rockets on both his hands and feet!

Sonic: Wait, whoa, this still sounds really dangerous.

Eggman: Oh, no, no, not for the people on TV, don’t worry. Only dangerous for you, Sonic.

Shadow: Recko, I don’t think we can legally allow Eggman to keep talking, so I’m going to cut the mike here. Thanks for your question.

~ #17 ~

Sonic: Oh hey, the Sonic Stadium – nice fansite name, guys – asks, “Many of our readers want to know, what is the secret to growing such a fine moustache?”

Tails: Wait, is that for all of us or just Eggman?

Eggman: I’ve got this, don’t worry. Listen, the secret is quite simple. First you need good product. I use a firming gel called “Adam and Sven”. Then you use a comb, and also carefully trim it to become impeccably stunning and handsome.

Tails: I wonder what Eggman would look like if we shaved his mustache off.

Eggman: Oh no, trust me, you really don’t wanna see that.

Shadow: I agree, Tails. Maybe we should shave it off right now.

Eggman: Shadow – no no no, please, guys, listen, I—

Sonic: Just grab him, quick!

Eggman: No, no, nonono, wait— [screams]

~ #18 ~

Tails: smoov22_sonic asks, “What’s Shadow’s favorite place to go shopping?”

Sonic: Oh, it’s gotta be that store with all the edgy clothing and goth stuff. What is it, Lukewarm Topic?

Eggman: I bet it’s the Halloween shop down the street! I saw him wearing a cape once.

Shadow: What? Those are both fine establishments, by the way, but I do my shopping at the local convenience store. It’s called “Maria’s”.

Eggman: [quiet intake of breath]

Tails: Oh, wait, um, Maria was…

Sonic: Oh, wow, sorry. I – I didn’t mean to—

Shadow: No. No, it’s fine. As long as I can keep supporting some Maria out there in the world, I…at least feel like I’m making it a better place.

Eggman: This question turned out to be quite the emotional rollercoaster. Thanks, smoov22.

~ #19 ~

Shadow: JadeUltra asks, “Where do you guys see yourself in the future?”

Eggman: Oh ho, that’s easy! Sitting atop my mechanical throne, ruling the world!

Sonic: Also an easy answer. Stopping Eggman from whatever plan he thinks he can pull off, and spending some more time on Twitter when I can.

Tails: I’d like to create more inventions that could support everyone.

Shadow: I’d like to open up a cat orphanage someday, for all the stray cats of the world, so they have a place to stay.

Everyone else: Wait, really?

Shadow: What? I have a soft spot for adorable little kittens. Don’t judge me.

Eggman: So judged.

~ #20 ~

Tails: TheHaasManWyatt asks, “What is your all-time favorite memory?”

Sonic: Oh, I like this one! For me, probably that time we all saved the planet together. Well, the one with the Biolizard, anyway.

Tails: My favorite memory is meeting Sonic for the first time. And after that, uh… My adventure on Cocoa Island.

Eggman: My favorite memory was finally beating Sonic, e-even though it happens all the time. What about yours, Shadow?

Shadow: My favorite memory was being dead.

Sonic: Wow, okay, that got dark.

~ #21 ~

Eggman: GottaPostFast asks – oh, I get that, that’s a reference – “Hey Tails, you probably get this a lot, but what does the fox say?”

Tails: Oh, uh… [quietly] Hey, Sonic, are the lawyers gonna get angry if I sing the song and stuff?

Sonic: [quietly] Yeah, probably. You just have to come up with something else real fast.

Shadow: [quietly] What are you two whispering about?

Tails: N-nothing! The fox says, uh… um… I’ve gotta fly high!

Eggman: Wait, that’s just your theme song from Sonic Adventure—

Tails: So I can reach the highest of all the heavens!

Sonic: Nice save, bud.

Shadow: I’m very, very confused by all this. Thank you, GottaPostFast. Next question.

~ #22 ~

Tails: AshleyChan456 asks, “I’ve got a question to ask all of you. Seeing that summer is nearly upon us, I’ve gotta ask: What’s your ideal summer vacation?”

Sonic: For me, a nice, beautiful beach, a palm tree or two, an umbrella to block out the sun, a boombox to play some tunes…

Tails: A motorized surfboard so I can splash water all over Sonic on accident, then go out of control and try to rescue a big owl guy.

Sonic: I almost feel like we’ve done this before.

Shadow: My ideal summer vacation is a trip to somewhere dark and spooky. I might invite Rouge or Omega to join me.

Eggman: Mine would be in my evil lair, surrounded by my own creations, watching as my minions conquer and capture all the little animals of the forest and turn them into more robots.

Shadow: Wait, can I change my answer? Instead—

Tails: Nope, we’re outta time! Thanks, Ashley, and hope you have a great summer too!

~ #23 ~

Sonic: Menno asks, “Hello, Shadow! What would your ultimate day look like?”

Tails: [imitating Shadow] “Dear Diary, today I brooded. And brooded some more. And then raised some Chao.”

Eggman: Hey, that’s not bad, Tails.

Shadow: Quiet, fox. My ultimate day would consist of a nice two handfuls of coffee beans in the morning, followed by a playthrough of the world’s greatest video game—

Sonic: Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric?

Shadow: No, Shadow the Hedgehog.

Tails: Probably should’ve seen that one coming.

Shadow: Then I head outside to do mysterious things, like saving people in need at the last moment, or picking up cool dark clothing that I’ll never wear.

Eggman: And then after that?

Shadow: Finally, I head home and put on a good movie, like Chao in Space 3, which features me. It’s much better than Chao in Space 2.

Sonic: …yeah. Well, thanks for the question, Menno.

Shadow: Wait, I’m not done y—

~ #24 ~

Sonic: [clears throat and proceeds to stumble over the pronunciation of the asker’s name several times] aoii91 asks, “How many chilidogs could a hedgehog eat if a hedgehog could eat chilidogs?”

Shadow: Let me get this straight. “How many chilidogs could a hedgehog eat if a hedgehog could eat chilidogs?”

Tails: A hedgehog could eat all the chilidogs.

Eggman: Well, if a hedgehog could eat chilidogs. I think they’re vegetarians.

~ #25 ~

Eggman: Hyper Potions asks, “What’s your favorite Team Sonic Racing track?”

Tails: Oh, man, we have to pick one? But I love so many!

Shadow: Do they mean track, or musical? Aren’t these some of the people who worked on the game’s soundtrack?

Sonic: Hey, I know these guys! Hyper Potions also made the trailer music for Sonic Mania! Well, to answer your question, Whale Lagoon for me.

Eggman: Personally, my favorite track is Final Fortress.

Shadow: Mine is Boo’s House. I love watching Knuckles get scared of ghosts.

Tails: Okay, then mine would be…Sky Road.

Eggman: There you go, Hyper Potions. Oh, and special thanks to the other musicians who helped make the soundtrack so amazing, too!

Sonic: Yeah, like Jun Senoue and Crush 40!

Tails: And Tee Lopes!

Shadow: And Tyler Smith. He also made the theme of Infinite, which I enjoy very much.

Eggman: And TORIENA!

Sonic: Thanks for the question, Hyper Potions!

~ #26 ~

Shadow: TheChaosSpirit asks, “To all of you, what do you guys like to do to stay motivated when the going gets tough?”

Eggman: Personally, I build more robots. Keeps my mind off things. And believe me, the going gets tough for me a lot.

Tails: I like to think about new inventions, or go outside.

Sonic: And I like to stay motivated by running. Anywhere, any place. Oh, and by blowing up Eggman’s robots.

Shadow: I look back on my past dark, traumatic moments, and use those to shield myself from the impending challenges of the future. No matter what may come, I’ve surely faced far worse before.

Eggman: And there you go! Always so optimistic, Shadow.

~ #27 ~

Tails: Ann Michal asks, “Hi, Sonic! Have you ever considered dyeing your fur black and red to look cooler?”

Shadow: Who is this girl? And why does she have such good taste in hedgehogs?

Sonic: I’m sorry, what? Dye my fur black and red? Pshht, no thanks. That’s a Shadow thing right there. I’m good with blue.

Eggman: Wait a minute, you guys. I looked into this person’s history and it says here she even gave a presentation about Shadow.

Sonic: Wow. That’s a lot of retweets, too.

Tails: Ooh, someone’s got an admirer!

Shadow: “An Exploration of Shadow the Hedgehog’s True Moral Compass (& Knuckles)”. Impressive. Very impressive. Nice work, Michal. Thanks for being one of my biggest fans.

Sonic: Blue quills are better.

~ #28 ~

Eggman: LiatrisBlossom asks, “So, Shadow, where was that fourth Chaos Emerald?”

Tails: Yeah, Shadow, did you ever find that thing? It’s kind of a meme on the internet, you know.

Shadow: No, Tails, I never found that [bleep] fourth Chaos Emerald. I tried searching for the [bleep] Chaos Emerald many times, but I never found it.

Sonic: Wait, are you censoring yourself on purpose, Shadow?

Shadow: What? No. I just said exactly what I said in the game. You know, that [bleep] fourth Chaos Emerald.

Tails: Holy cow, he’s being censored in real time!

Eggman: That is some pretty impressive tech, SEGA.

Shadow: You may think you can stop me, SEGA Twitter team, but if I said it in the game, I’ll find a way to say it on Twitter. That [bleep] fourth Chaos Emerald – argh! [bleep] fourth Chaos Emerald! …Curse you, SEGA.

Sonic: Sorry, Shadow, but this was the only way the ESRB would let us continue. Thanks for understanding.

~ #29 ~

Sonic: Sam’s Procrastination Station asks, “Hey, @sonic_hedgehog, do you mind finally explaining to the general audience why you’re in a car in games like Team Sonic Racing? People still ask this question for some reason, so I think this is the perfect time to address it.”

Tails: Oh, that’s an easy one! He’s in a car in Team Sonic Racing because—

Sonic: Because if I was on foot, I’d win instantly. Exactly, Tails!

Tails: Aww, I wanted to answer that one, Sonic!

Shadow: Hold on a second. If you were on foot, you’d still lose just as badly to me, Sonic.

Tails: Hey, I can run too. Doesn’t anyone remember Sonic R on the Saturn?

Eggman: The car makes things even, Sam. But let’s be honest, even in Sonic R, I’m still the best racer by far. Thanks for the question!

~ #30 ~

Eggman: snowcanine asks, “If you guys could change one thing about yourselves, what would it be?”

Sonic: Good question! I’d like to be able to know exactly where the Chaos Emeralds were at any time. Would make stopping Eggman much easier.

Tails: I’d like to be able to keep flying without ever getting tired.

Eggman: I’d get rid of that silly sense of mercy that keeps stopping me from ever finally defeating Sonic. It’s just a weakness, really.

Shadow: I wouldn’t change a thing. Our mistakes make us who we are, and I’m comfortable with my identity.

Sonic: Yeah, I feel like Shadow’s answers are either the most depressing or the most inspiring, depending on the question. Thanks, snowcanine!

~ #31 ~

Tails: Barry Kramer asks, “You guys are in the business of moving quickly. What’s the best way to keep your shoes on? Laces, hook-and-loop fasteners, or, uh, other? Thanks.”

Sonic: Good question, Barry! Personally, I’m all about the buckle. Had it since the classic days.

Shadow: Other. I don’t really need a buckle. My shoes were specially designed and fit my feet perfectly, no matter how fast I’m going.

Tails: I actually don’t use one either! But I totally modified my shoes a bit so they’re a perfect fit too.

Eggman: I, um…I don’t do much running. A genius like me can conquer the world from the comfort of his own chair!

Sonic: Well, thanks for the question, Barry! And hope your next project comes out amazing.

~ #32 ~

Shadow: LTDork asks, “Sonic has become pretty notorious for his terrible taste in puns. Are there any specific jokes you guys like?”

Sonic: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Now, hang on, terrible taste in puns? That’s not entirely true—

Tails: But what about the games, Sonic? It’s definitely kinda true there.

Sonic: Yeah, but those are totally different writers! I’ve got a script to follow! Twitter Takeovers are way easier because I can just…be myself.

Eggman: I’d just like to add that I appreciate all of my writers, no matter the script. Please keep casting me as the villain!

Shadow: Suckup.

~ #33 ~

Shadow: Elsie Fisher asks, “Why do you guys always wear gloves? What are you hiding?”

Eggman: Uh, hands, mostly.

Tails: Hey, Sonic, have you ever tried taking off your gloves?

Sonic: What? No, why would I? They’re super comfy.

Tails: I dunno, like…for science and stuff?

Sonic: Huh. Well, all right, let’s see if I can— [grunting] Huh. Wow. That thing is – yeah, it’s really stuck on there.

Tails: Wait, Sonic. Rrrgh… My gloves won’t come off either!

Sonic: But Tails, what if I have, like, creepy blue hands under these!?

Tails: Uh…

Shadow: Would you both stop panicking? Elsie Fisher, thanks for your question, but we wear gloves because they’re comfortable and cool, and there’s absolutely nothing hidden underneath. …wait, wait. Can she – can she see that I’m winking right now, or is that not going through?

~ #34 ~

Tails: RubberNinja asks, “On a downward incline, would Eggman’s top speed while rolling surpass Sonic?”

Shadow: Wait a minute. That’s Ross. He’s one of the Grumpy Guys or whatever they call themselves. I was a grumpy guy before it was cool.

Sonic: The Game Grumps, Shadow. But this one’s easy, so I’ll answer it. There is absolutely no way I’d lose to Eggman at anything. Especially a speed competition.

Eggman: Hold on, hold on. Let’s think about this scientifically. From a momentum perspective, since I weigh more than you, I would almost certainly eventually—

Shadow: But your body is clearly not built for spin-dashing, Doctor. I don’t think you’d have nearly as smooth of a roll downward.

Eggman: Oh, no, no, we can just do the math here, let’s see. On a downward incline, assuming Sonic begins with a spin dash—

Tails: And also assuming Eggman has no bones to slow him down—

Eggman: Wait, what?

Tails: Eggman would eventually pass Sonic after roughly 7.8 miles.

Eggman: Hold on a minute, what was that about no bones?

Shadow: Well, there you have it, Ross of the Grumpy Grumps. That’s just science.

~ #35 ~

Tails: Chris Scullion asks, “Do ghosts and spirits of our deceased loved ones exist, or are they merely mental projections constructed in our own minds as a coping mechanism, as knowing they still have some presence (albeit a merely etherial one) gives some comfort?”

Shadow: Don’t worry, I got this one. Yes.

~ #36 ~

Sonic: SakataLouis asks, “Can you all say Happy Birthday to my little brother Diego? He’s seven years old today and he really likes you guys, especially Shadow.”

Tails: Aww, that’s adorable! Yeah, we can do that!

All: “Happy Birthday to my little brother Diego. He’s seven years old today and he really likes you guys, especially Shadow.”

Shadow: To Diego, one of my ultimate fans, happy seventh birthday.

Eggman: Thanks for being a good brother, SakataLouis.

~ #37 ~

Tails: Ooh, listen to this one, guys! From Lisamellow1, “An innocent question for Sonic, if he doesn’t mind. I’ve read in a book that it is confirmed by the Sonic Team that Sonic has feelings for Amy, but he’s too nervous to admit it! So, is that true? Also, have this very quick doodle of Amy I made.”

Eggman: Oh my. Is that true, Sonic?

Sonic: Whoa, what, what? A-Amy? Why are you guys asking me this all of the sudden?

Tails: Hey, the fans just wanna know! And you did say they could ask you anything…

Sonic: Yeah, but, well – listen, I don’t really feel comfortable talking about that on Twitter right—

Shadow: Are you afraid, Sonic? Are you running away from your feelings now, too?

Sonic: I just really don’t want to – I’ll be right back!

Tails: …Wow, he’s not normally like that. Well, one thing’s for sure now, the Sonamy fans are gonna go nuts.

~ #38 ~

Tails: theminemanner2 asks, “Doctor Eggman, how long did it take you to come up with the plan of luring Sonic and company into a false sense of security by joining the Twitter Takeover?”

Eggman: Good question, minemanner. Let’s see, how long has it been now…approximately six hours. Surprise, Sonic!

Tails: Oh, if you’re talking about the traps you placed, i already disarmed all of those.

Eggman: What?

Shadow: And the robots you were trying to hide above us were all destroyed when I used Chaos Blast earlier.

Eggman: H-how?

Sonic: And we totally had Knuckles trash your lair while you were doing this. Actually, this was just a plan to get you away from your base, Eggman.

Eggman: Are you kidding me? No! This is not okay! Rrrrrgh…

Sonic: Well, all’s well that ends well! Let’s keep the questions going.

~ #39 ~

Sonic: All right, here’s one! BluSlashed asks, “Who’s the best driver between all of you? You can only choose one.”

Shadow: Is that really a question? It’s well-known that I’m the best driver in this room.

Eggman: Oh no you aren’t, Shadow! You may be fast, but I could outsmart you any day.

Sonic: Ha, didn’t any of you guys watch “Team Sonic Racing: Overdrive”? Tails and I clearly won because we worked together.

Tails: Yeah, it’s all about the real superpower of teamwork!

Shadow: I was winning. You were all slow and had to rely on that Team Ultimate to save you.

Eggman: You know, it’s strange, but I really don’t have much recollection of what happened after that race.

Tails: Oh, uh, yeah, that’s, uh…probably for the best.

Sonic: Should we tell him?

Tails: No way!

~ #40 ~

Shadow: egoraptor asks, “Sonic, have you and Tails just straight-up forgotten how evil Robotnik is? I find it very disturbing to see y'all pal around with this joker.”

Sonic: Y'know, it’s a fair point that Eggman is pretty evil sometimes.

Tails: And he has tried to ruin our lives on multiple occasions.

Shadow: And risked the lives of the entire planet.

Sonic: But he’s more like…a lovable kind of bad guy, you know? There’s just something about him. Well, that and he just shows up uninvited all the time.

Eggman: Dear Arin Hanson, interesting question. I see you’ve chosen poorly when it comes to selecting your allies. I’ll be in touch. Very soon.

Everyone else: Dun-dun-dunnn!

~ #41 ~

Eggman: Caddicarus asks, “So hey, @Sonic_Hedgehog! Why do you collect rings when an anagram of your name is 'coins’?”

Sonic: They’re rings! Way bigger, way better, and you can throw them over your arm, too.

Shadow: Who would even collect coins, anyway?

Tails: All sorts of people, Shadow! I mean, there are people in the street, coin collectors, and that one plumber guy we ran into, y'know.

Sonic: In my humble opinion, Caddicarus, gold rings are way better than coins, and a much better investment, too.

~ #42 ~

Tails: Whew, I had no idea there’d be so many questions coming our way!

Eggman: Well, buckle up, fox boy, it’s normal. I’ve done this for years, trust me.

Shadow: Don’t worry. Eggman’s just upset because we’ve got more questions than he did.

Sonic: Guys, there’s even more questions still coming in, but I think time’s up.

Tails: Well, we’ve gotta stop somewhere. Thank you all so much for sharing your questions with us today, and for inviting me to join in!

Eggman: As always, a huge thank you to my adoring fans.

Shadow: And to the supporters of the world’s greatest hedgehog.

Sonic: Aw, you shouldn’t have, Shadow.

Shadow: No, no. I meant me.

Sonic: Oh. Well. That’s typical.

Eggman: So, what about all the people whose questions we didn’t get to answer? We have to come back for a fifth Takeover someday, right?

Sonic: Whoa! I mean, guys, we just finished the fourth!

Tails: Yeah! And let’s invite someone else next time, too! Like Rouge, or Big, or Amy – oh, maybe Cream—

Sonic: Nononono, uh, Tails, listen—

Shadow: From all of this in this cramped little room, please accept our appreciation for hanging out with us today.

Sonic: Yeah. Thanks, everyone!

Tails: Thank you!

Eggman: 'Til next time!

Shadow: Chaos Control!

#sonic twitter takeover #sonic twitter takeover 4 #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic twitter takeover transcription #hehe 42 questions #this transcription helped me so much #I couldnt let it get lost!#i cant live without it now

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