a-drifting-mannequin

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Daring mistake

Fandom: Sonic (MOVIE)

Pairings: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone; Stobotnik

Warnings: cuss words, Stone crossdressing Ig, I'm not sure what else

Summary: My home country has this saying: “Twirl your tongue seven times before talking.”. It means to think twice about what you say before you regret it.

****

Robotnik never meant it, really. It was purely a joke, something to say so he wouldn’t lose face in front of plebeians like them.

Stuff like that always happens when he gets angry. Say whatever, confuse them and then let the humiliation settle in by itself.

But of course. Of course his dear, hopeless little sycophant took it to heart.

Robotnik wasn’t sure whether to be terrified or intrigued.

It started maybe a month ago, when Walters was discussing a field mission being organized and Stone was tasked to be a part of a squad team, ordered to surround the west side of the premises of wherever. Robotnik didn’t really listen to that part of the discussion.

Either way, the point was Robotnik felt offended by the fact that Stone was to work with morons who couldn’t keep their eyes on the target and their mouths shut. He knew his agent well enough to see the way he pointedly avoided conversations with his colleagues or refuse to speak on matters he rather not get involved in.

Stone did not like to socialize, much less when he started working for Robotnik. The agent only seemed content to talk to the doctor, and no one else.

The conclusion of that said meeting was Robotnik insulting each and everyone in the room, making sure nothing was left of their dignity. He was met with glares, scoffs, some generals with too big of an ego tried to make comebacks but Robotnik was quick to shut them up, all the while Stone smiled and cheered silently from behind him.

When Walters had the audacity to say it was for ‘safety precautions’ (the doctor knew his agent could care less about safety), Robotnik felt his jaw tighten and every muscle in his body restraining him from snapping his neck. He almost did, the thought way too tempting to let go.

Instead, he screamed:

“My agent could outperform all of yours while wearing a skirt!” Pointer finger right to the commander’s face, coat dramatically billowing behind him due to the speed of him turning to face the commander.

Robotnik didn’t stay for long afterwards, stomping out the room and down the hall with his dutiful agent following behind. At least Stone didn’t try to apologize to them. The rest of the day went as expected, with little to no surprise from his agent as coffee was served at the right time and the lab remained spotless.

But nothing escapes the mind of a genius. Not even the smallest shift in expression, mood, movement and otherwise physical changes.

It started when Stone entered the lab with a curious spring in his step, how his lattes tasted differently despite having the coffee brewed from the same machine and milk steamed from the same wand. The following days, the symptoms increased. Nervous inquiries, persistent questions, curious glances as if the agent was questioning both himself and the mad doctor. Robotnik initially left all of this outside his brain, stored in the back for further examination if he wasn’t busy.

Until the day Stone was supposed to attend and follow through with the mission set a month in advance.

Robotnik deployed and lend some of his babies to the hands of Walters, even if he hated it as much as his darlings did. Walters had thanked him, going on and on about something relating to ‘generosity’ and ‘caring for the lives of others’. Shit talk, in Robotnik’s opinion.

After that was over, Robotnik retreated back to his lab, expecting a hot latte before his agent actually leave for the mission. The sun beamed down harshly, heating up Robotnik’s coat faster than he had anticipated. At least the lab offered a safe haven from idiots and the sun.

Stood behind the small kitchen counter in the break room was Stone, humming and drawing little arts on his latte. The agent looked up from his work to offer a bright smile and a silent greeting to the doctor which he ignored. The faster Stone finish with the mission, the more tests and all-nighters Robotnik gets to pull.

As soon as Robotnik sat down in his chair and booted up all his monitors (and cue the background music), Stone came waltzing to his side, the smell of fresh coffee alluring the mad scientist. Robotnik accepted the drink without so much of a ‘thank you’, relishing in his drink after taking a second to look at the latte art. A single big heart surrounded by smaller ones.

When Robotnik took a glance at his assistant still standing by his side, he almost spat out the coffee and punch a monitor.

There stood Stone, big doe eyes reflecting false innocence, hands clasped behind his back wearing a business skirt. The fabric and texture matched the rest of his suit, blending in seamlessly, making an illusion of a one-piece dress if it wasn’t for the visible creases where his shirt was tucked in the waist band.

Robotnik dared to trail his eyes further down. Clean shaved legs, highlighted by the few scars and bullet wounds there. Stone even had the nerve and audacity of a man with no shame and wore heels.

“Is something the matter, Doctor?” Stone asked, tone soft and controlled, face still held that innocent look as if he did nothing wrong. As if he wasn’t standing in front of his superior wearing a skirt.

“What the fuck are you wearing, Agent?” Robotnik could only stare, confusion and anger bubbling inside him, mixing a weird concoction of emotions. Stone looked down at himself as if he didn’t know what Robotnik was talking about, eyed his skirt for a while and then looked up. “I’m wearing clothes, sir.” He smiled. Cheeky little thing.

Robotnik placed his latte down somewhere, careful to not knock it over before standing up from his chair with too much force, pushing the chair a few feet back. Stone just watched, eyes following after the chair but never turning his head, hands still clasped behind his back.

Robotnik couldn’t understand for the life of him why his agent would go out of his way to dress up like that.

Until the memory of what he said resurfaced. A bitter memory of what he had said that day.

‘Earful as always, Stone’ he thought sourly to himself.

“Agent, pin yourself to the wall.” Robotnik managed to grit out, a shaky pointer finger filled with anger pointing at the wall beside him.

Stone seemed to suppress a sigh as he placed a hand firmly over his chest and pushed himself back, going as far as to make an expression of surprise. Robotnik remained where he was, both hands splayed on the desk before him, head angled downwards and hair slightly mused.

What the fuck did he had to do to get it through his thick-headed agent that not all he said was intended as an order, much less something to be taken seriously?

Stone had no shame, felt no embarrassment dressing up like that. Dolling himself up, probably searched online for some reference before going out to buy the things he needed. The dirty little fucker probably thought Robotnik would enjoy this.

A part of him wanted to deny that. That the thought of it was revolting and absolutely disgusting. Another one told him to enjoy it while he still could, trick his brain into convincing himself that someone actually cared for him. Or, at least, cared in what he was interested in seeing.

The silence stretched on. Stone had lowered his hands to his side, a concern expression twisting his features as he watched his doctor being wracked with anger. Robotnik could tell his shoulders were shaky slightly, his gloved fingers dug into his palms uncomfortably, buttons being pressed down with too much force.

“Doctor- “Stone started, gradually lifting himself from his pinned position. He was immediately returned to that spot, however, when Robotnik punched the empty space near Stone’s head. He could hear the buttons on his control glove contorting. It must’ve taken a lot of self-control and military training for Stone not to flinch.

“Tell me, Stone.” Robotnik breathed, a menacing grin on his face completely overtaken by anger. “Do you really enjoy dressing up like this? Over a single line I said from a month ago?” the question was genuine, rather blunt but Robotnik needed a definite answer from his agent.

Stone stared at him, big round eyes reflecting a few milliseconds of confusion, slowly morphing into realization. Either he finally regretted wearing this outfit because he now knew that Robotnik never had the intention for him to wear something like this.

Or a whole fucking bomb would be dropped on his head. A ridiculous one at that.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Stone muttered, eyes still fixated on his doctor. He didn’t look sorry.

Robotnik stilled entirely, head snapping up to meet Stone’s unwavering stare. This agent will and could be the death of him if he didn’t stop making irrational decisions.

“And you think you have an excuse to wear something like this?” He screamed, punching the wall again as he crowded Stone’s space, almost nose to nose with the agent. A meek headshake answered his question. Was he wearing fucking makeup?

Robotnik removed himself from where he was pressed up against Stone, fingers pinching his temple. Stone stared, muscles not moving an inch from where he was still, presumably, pinned up. “If you wear that to the mission, I’ll personally send someone else to assassinate you.” The doctor threatened, glaring back at his agent. Stone did not look a bit unpleased by that.

“Of course, Doctor. I’ll go change right away.” The agent didn’t move from his spot until he was properly dismissed, leaving Robotnik feeling like shit.

Did he enjoy seeing Stone like that? Degrading himself for the doctor over a simply line?

Did he come into work looking like that before entering the lab?

. . .

What was under that skirt anyway?

Pushing those thoughts away, Robotnik pulled his chair back, turned up his music and drowned himself out with work.

He ignored the way Stone sounded embarrassed when he bid farewell to him. Ignored the way his face heated up and the uncomfortable feeling of arousal inside him.

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Insolent: Chapter 4 (Finale)

Fandom: Sonic (MOVIE)

Pairings: Dr Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone; Stobotnik (reversed)

Warnings: Cuss words, bad description about what French kisses are supposed to look like

“Thank you, Agent.” Stone replied sweetly, like he always does, and turned his head just enough to smile at the agent. Robotnik still thinks that Stone was trying to get under his skin in the literal sense.

***

“Your coffee, Doctor.” Robotnik said as he gently placed down a cold Americano, placing just far enough from the doctor so if he wanted to spin around the way he sometimes does, the cup wouldn’t be knocked over.

Robotnik nodded once and backed away from where he was standing next to Stone, quickly returning to his desk to get some work done. Immediately, one of the doctor’s Pebbles – Robotnik named her Val – hovered over by his side and nudged him gently. The agent didn’t pay any attention to her at first, but eventually gave in and let her nuzzle him and lay in his lap.

It has been a month or two ever since their first day on the job together. Robotnik remained the way he did, face always set in neutral and scowling at the slightest inconvenience. But despite that, he did in his very best to assist Stone as it still remains an important part of his job. Organizing emails and paperwork, cleaning up after the doctor whenever he’s too absorbed in his experiments and doing routine maintenance on the drones.

Sometimes, during late nights working in the lab and none of them felt like retreating to their respective rooms for some rest, Robotnik would leave unprompted and return with bags full of snacks and food from the convenience store. Stone had scolded the agent for that on several occasions when it first happened, throwing out reasons that Robotnik could care less about. Eventually, Stone did accept a paper ramen bowl with melted cheese on top.

For the entirety of that night, the pair ate and watched a few movies that were largely recommended by the great doctor. Most were horror movies which made Robotnik run back to his room just to grab some pillows and two blankets: one for him and one for the doctor. Many things were spilled that day, and Stone was sure his Pebbles were frustrated with their shenanigans.

Stone could say he was warming up to the always cautious agent. It was already fun messing with him, but even that got boring quickly. He resorted to other tricks, however, such as asking his agent to fetch him something and then promptly abandoning it. Stone was pleased whenever he could draw out a frustrated sigh or a silent curse from him. Sometimes, Stone would give Robotnik the task of taking care of his plants, to which he failed at, and Stone had to take extra time out his day to teach him how to properly put dirt into a pot.

Today was little to no different. With an iced Americano in hand made by his trustworthy agent, Stone scrolled through government secrets and past projects that were left in the dark like it was a stroll in the park. Robotnik never bothered asking about them, seeming more interested in sharing more detail rather than keeping them. A quirk that Stone loved about this agent.

His silent research was interrupted when the sound of Robotnik’s heavy combat boots approached him in a controlled manner. Stone didn’t bother turning around as he continued to scroll through a sea of blacked out information that would be quickly revealed if he clicked on it.

“Doctor?” Robotnik called. From how loud Stone could hear his voice, he assumed that the agent was standing directly behind him.

The doctor didn’t make a move to respond.

Another minute of silence before Robotnik sighed heavily.

��I know you can hear me, Doctor.” The agent said, placing a hand on the back of Stone chair. “This is important, so I will beg and ask for your attention.”

Now that caught the doctor’s attention. Beg, he said? Stone wondered if he would actually do so.

With one easy movement to place his cup down, Stone spun around in his chair to face the annoyed agent. Hands tented, elbows placed on the arms of his chair, Stone spread his legs slightly to accommodate the agent who stood in between.

Robotnik reflectively flinched at the action, a dark blush coming to cover the tip of his ears. The hand that was previously placed on the back of his hand was still suspended in the air but was quickly placed behind his back after Robotnik realized how that looked like. Stone repressed a self-satisfied grin, eyes beckoning his agent to inform him about this important something.

“The commander has called for a meeting regarding where you’re putting all that tax money he gave you and something else the old man didn’t bother to specify.” Robotnik announced quickly, shoving the folder he was holding against Stone’s chest in an attempt to distract the doctor from eyeing the flush on his face.

Stone glanced down to where the folder was pressed. As always, it was yellow with a bright red stamp in the corner to indicate that it had been looked through and deemed suitable to be handed out. The tip of a paper being held inside by a gold-colored paper clip peeked out, making Stone raise an eyebrow.

Usually they wouldn’t bother sticking any additional notes into anything they gave him. Why now?

Taking the folder properly from his agent, Stone opened it like there was a miniature bomb inside waiting to be set off. Robotnik quickly removed himself from between the doctor’s legs, pulling out his shades where it was kept in his breast pocket and slipping it on his nose bridge.

“My blueprints are involved.” Stone said matter-of-factly, passing the clipped paper over to Robotnik to read.

Robotnik did as he was wordlessly instructed, brows furrowing at the information he was provided. Stone crossed his legs as he observed how a few different emotions flashed across Robotnik’s face, the light pink dusting his face now completely gone.

Confusion, surprise, another flash of confusion, a tad of frustration before settling on an expression that screamed ‘Why should I even care?’. How sweet of him.

Handing the paper back to Stone, Robotnik excused himself back to his desk to inform the commander about Stone’s attendance. The doctor watched him go and sighed, getting up from his own seat to change into something more appropriate for a presumably important budget meeting.

Throwing open his dresser, Stone skimmed over all the clothing he had available. From simple shirts and oversized hoodies to something that female celebrities often wore at Met Gala. Stone wondered when he’ll be able to wear such a thing.

Two drones entered his room with curiosity, clearly showing an eagerness in helping their father in picking a suitable attire for the day. Stone sighed affectionately, stepping out of the way for his two darlings to scan through the dresser they’ve seen more than a dozen times.

Outside, Stone could faintly hear the sound of something similar to waltz playing. He assumed Robotnik had turned it on to fill in the void of silence that he somehow couldn’t bear.

After another minute or two, his Pebbles – Iris and Siri (he wanted twin names for them) – returned to his side with a sunflower yellow turtleneck, matching French purple waist coat and dress pants and a white trench coat. Stone smiled at their attempt to pick out something bright for him in order to make him the center of attention. Stone gave both drones a kiss on their hull before retreating to his bathroom to change. Luckily, today’s weather had turned crisp last minute, which frustrated Robotnik because he hadn’t had the chance to buy a new coat.

Buttoning up his waist coat, Stone spun this and that way, admiring how his color choice could really trick people in think he wasn’t some prestigious asshole. He knew he would look like a sore thumb next to black and white formalities, but Stone could care less. At least he knew Robotnik wasn’t an exception from this due to his bright red dress shirt.

Hmmm… Maybe he could touch himself up a bit. Just for the fun of it.

With just a few steps, Stone sat down at the small vanity desk he was able to afford at a low enough price so it wouldn’t reach G.U.N.’s spending radar. Picking up an eyeshadow palate that he favored, Stone took exactly a minute to scan through all the colors before settling on a shimmery shade of heliotrope. At the very least, it’ll make his clothing less dull in a way.

Shrugging on the white trench coat after he was done touching up his makeup, the doctor took one last look of himself in the full length mirror he had, turning on his heel and checking if there were any visible wrinkle on his clothes. The ‘white’ trench coat complimented the turtleneck perfectly, making the coat looked more cosmic latte than white.

Stone sometimes wondered why he took psychology and then go out his way to learn about color theory (and memorize colors based on their shades).

Pulling on his chosen pair of footwear for the day – a pair of Oxfords with shiny golden laces – Stone exited his room with an air of confidence laced with the usually egotistic pride one might feel radiating off celebrities.

Robotnik was still sitting at his desk, blazer draped over the back of his chair while he checked on emails and organized the doctor’s schedule for the next upcoming days. Stone was almost concerned for the man’s lack of preparation for this assumingly important meeting.

“Let’s go, Agent. We wouldn’t want Walters waiting for much longer.” Stone sighed and pulled on gloves with a color that matched his coat, waiting for Robotnik to remove his ass from his chair. The sooner they arrive and leave, the better.

“I thought you never cared about these meetings, Doctor.” The agent didn’t even try to hide the grin on his lips, one hand coming up to smooth out his mustache. The damn shades are still on.

Stone wouldn’t try to defend his ego if he knew that Robotnik speaks the truth. Instead, the doctor rolled his eyes and stalked off to a desk pushed up against the wall, not too far off from his workbench.

Sat there, as always, was the display that held the assorted shades and optical lenses he had. The unmistakable sound of Robotnik shuffling out of his seat to stand behind Stone could be heard, but he would rather not dwell on why his agent would rather stand so close to him all the time.

After another moment of consideration, Stone plucked a pair of golden half rimmed glasses with lavender lenses, holding it up to the light before securing it on his nose bridge. Robotnik hummed from behind him, either out of judgement or approval, it didn’t really matter.

“Are we ready to go or not?” Stone asked sarcastically, watching his agent taking his sweet time putting on his blazer and smoothing out any creases. If he could, he would murder this man.

“Of course, Doctor.” Stone was almost familiar with the fact that Robotnik usually responded with short replies if he was feeling particularly antsy.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The halls were deafly silent. No lowly agents wandered the halls with either stacks of papers in their arms or a stale cup of coffee. White walls made the halls look like a maze, black tiles echoing each step back to the ones who caused it.

It felt almost claustrophobic.

Stone approached the dark double doors, hands shoved into his pockets and face set to neutral. Robotnik followed close behind him, one hand holding a journal with a tattered cover and a pen in the other. The elevator ride up to here was almost excruciating, silence enveloped the pair like a thick blanket making Stone almost want to scream. Luckily, he didn’t.

Robotnik quickly rushed ahead of Stone when they were close enough to the entrance, pushing open the doors for the doctor’s convenience. The room was already filled with people upon entering. Directors, generals and Commander Walters sat in chairs Stone assumed was assigned to them. Stone waved Robotnik off to stand behind him while he took his seat, rolling up the sleeves of his coat and leaning back more or less comfortably.

Commander Walters nodded once, stood up and began the introduction and opening, explaining the reason for everyone’s presence.

Stone was unfortunately not interested it what the old commander had to say, eyes eventually drifting off to stare at the far wall. Robotnik dutifully noted down anything and everything the doctor wasn’t listening to, occasionally eyeing Stone in case if he needed anything. Stone wished he had a reason to leave.

“Moving forward, I would like to apologize to Dr. Stone in advance.” Commander Walters announced in a rather pitiful tone, making Stone snap out his trance.

Apologize for what? And when had they ever apologize to him about anything?

Was it about the note they placed in?

Stone felt the need to sit straighter and more professional, not out of obligation but out of anticipation. Robotnik shuffled a little behind him.

“Doctor, we understand that you’ve been working on the commissioned piece for a month now.” Walters said, now turning to face him. "But the tides had changed."

This felt like it was his fault that the project had to be brought up. He had avoided everything to keep that a secret according to the said requirements from the government official that commissioned it.

Stone felt like it was Walters’s fault that he was here.

The doctor could hear his agent’s journal being closed shut and neatly placed back into his inner breast pocket. He could see out the corner of his eye the way Robotnik was fiddling with his pen. Robotnik was nervous but not in the way everyone else was. He was expecting something to happen, he already knew what would happen.

And still…still he brought Stone here.

Stone could feel his own body tensing up, feet planted firmly on the ground and ready to move at any moment.

“The project had been called off and any evidence of the project including the model and the blueprint should be discarded of. The sergeant who had requested the project had deemed it to be too dangerous and may be stolen for purposes that it was never intended for” Walters explained to him in a voice Stone couldn’t quite read. He still held a pitiful expression on his face. “So, in short, it’s no longer necessary for you to continue forward with it.”

Some generals sitting in the table hummed in acknowledgement, directors looked towards each other but not a single word was passed between anyone.

Without another second to lose, Stone slammed both of his hands down on the dark wooden table, stood up and stormed out the room without another word. Eyes trailed after him, their voice whispering judgement and despise. Commander Walters had the nerve to call after him but didn’t dare to follow him.

Stone could care less now. He didn’t have to care anymore. Make him waste a whole moth, working his ass off day and night just to ask him politely to burn it all?

And he thought he was the crazy one.

The doctor quickly adjusted his glasses before he continued stalking down the fairly empty hall of G.U.N.

His steps echoed but never lasted long, his hand were in fists tightly by his side, nails digging half-moons into the meat of his hands. Even if Stone wanted to stop for just a moment to check if his makeup was smeared or if anyone had accidently stepped on the tail of his coat, he couldn’t find it in him to stop. 

“Those goddamned idiots.” Stone muttered to himself, his strides becoming longer and quicker. “’It’s not necessary’ they say. As if they’re the doctor.” He was sure he could hear his teeth being grind against each other in his skull.

“I’m going to kill someone.” Stone wished that was true, that he was speaking his own intentions out loud. But considering the many false report of ‘workplace harassment’ he had received, Stone was forced to play nice and by the rules.

Quickly turning the corner, the tension burning in his shoulders wore off disquietingly fast as he slumped against the wall, leaning back heavily against the surface behind him. Stone just knew there would be stains on his clothes that he would have to scrub off himself.

“Now I can take a quick break.” He muttered to himself, gloved hand rustling around in his pocket for his stress relief.

Stone almost forgot he would often shove full pack of cigarettes into all his coats just in case. However, the box he pulled out was already half empty, all the sticks leaning to one side of the box. Stone pulled out one and placed it between his lips before shoving the box back in his pocket, absentmindedly sucking on the shred of nicotine while looking for his lighter.

The lighter he pulled out was a fancy little thing, with a spider lily in the front while a series of butterflies covered the back. He couldn’t properly remember where and when he got it, but the feeling of pride upon seeing it never really lost its spark.

Unfortunately, looks doesn’t always account for ability. Stone thought the lighter could still be used, but after trying to ignite his cigarette it was clear that this one hasn’t been refilled yet.

“Fucking…Stupid lighter.” He tried a few more time, already understanding his efforts were futile but desperation said otherwise.

Just as he went to try again, a black gloved hand appeared in front of his and pulled his cigarette away. “Apologies, sir, but smoking is not permitted inside.” The person who pulled his cigarette away said, voice smooth and controlled.

Great. Just what he wanted to hear.

Suddenly his anger was hitting at full force again, making his skin feel clammy and hot inside his trench coat. He was heating up too fast, the turtleneck and the coat barely seemed necessary anymore.

“Hey! Do you know who I- Oh.” Stone immediately stopped mid-sentence, anger dissipating into a bubbling mess in his brain. “It’s you.” The recognition was deadpanned at best.

There stood beside him was Robotnik, his agent-slash-assistant-slash-personal bodyguard, someone he never asked for. Although both of their attire looked relatively professional, Stone could tell that the older man was more put together than him, showing an air of calmness that he absolutely despised whenever he was mad. The agent held the stick of nicotine between his fingers – his index and thumb – gently, clearly not having any intentions of crushing it or tossing it away. Stone adjusted his glasses to sit on top if his head, one hand subconsciously running through his hair in an attempt to tame it.

“Stand down, Agent. Give me back my cigarette and leave.” Stone sighed and looked away, holding out his hand with the expectation of his cigarette being immediately placed there.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.” Robotnik stated, spinning the cigarette so it sat neatly in his fist instead of being held loosely by his fingers. Stone gritted his teeth at the empty apology, shoulders tensing up again. He really needs a big, fat break after all of this was over.

“I said…” Stone started, glaring daggers at the man beside him. “Give me it!” Stone wouldn’t say he failed at his only attempt at getting his cigarette back, he had just been a bit rusty.

The cigarette was moved away from him in one quick motion, almost making the doctor tripped over himself. A self-satisfied smirk laid comfortably on Robotnik’s lips as he stared down at his boss. The nerve of this agent.

Dignity be damned, he needed his cigarette. As soon as Robotnik decided to use his height advantage and raise the cigarette above his head, Stone quickly latched on and reached out on his tiptoes in hopes being able to take the cigarette back.

“Just give it to me! I am your superior!” Stone commanded though he knew it wouldn’t work. Shame might as well swallow him up and leave no trance behind after this.

“Nope, can’t.” Robotnik chuckled low in his throat, grinning down at his superior’s fruitless attempt at taking back what was his. “I am here to keep you safe and healthy, even from yourself.” Robotnik knew he wasn’t permitted to actually make sure the doctor didn’t burn himself out, but it felt nice to fool around a little.

Stone grunt with effort as he reached as high as he could, almost regretting not wearing platform shoes if he knew something like this would happen. He grabbed onto Robotnik’s lapel in attempt to pull him down. The agent didn’t budge. A weight Stone didn’t realize was there settled on the small of his back, holding him up against the agent with little to no force. No doubt Robotnik was trying to feel him up or mock him silently.

Stone diverted his attention back to the smug face of his agent, knowing the taller man probably felt full of himself at the moment. Robotnik smiled down at him, a false sense of calmness and a tinge of mischief lacing his stare.

After engaging in that short and momentary staring contest, Stone cheered to himself as he could finally reach up high enough and grab hold of his cigarette. Robotnik kept his expression neutral, as if too in denial about his defeat. At least that little game was over.

“Well, forgot those orders for now.” Now it was Stone’s turn to smile mockingly at his agent, relief spreading over him in small waves. “I don’t need a baby- “Stone smiled to himself, opening his palm to hold his cigarette in a way he would much prefer. “sitter…”

Laid in his hand was not, in fact, the cigarette he was hoping to see. Thick paper stick, round and wrapped in plastic at the top, a cartoonish grape image plastered to its sides: a lollipop. He grabbed a lollipop.

Stone frowned at the sight of the sweet in his hand, the previous wave of relief already doing its job at eliminating any remaining frustration in his body. He did not want to put up with anymore of this.

“Something wrong, Doctor?”

The doctor cautiously glanced over his employee, witnessing him placing his cigarette between his own lips but making no move to ignite it. His eyes were casted to the floor, pointedly avoiding the doctor’s own bewildered expression. Stone couldn’t bring himself to punch his agent across the face, purely because he could feel his social battery draining.

“I heard lollipops were healthier.” The mocking tone didn’t escape Stone. Rather, it gave him a little energy boost knowing he would have to take his cigarette back one way or another. The fact that Robotnik even had the nerve to state that lollipops were healthier than cigarettes almost made him scoff. They’re equally unhealthy, in Stone’s opinion.

Though, that comment did give him an idea.

With a barely suppressed grin spreading across his face, Stone quickly strided over to Robotnik with newfound motivation. Robotnik must’ve noticed his change in mood as a neutral expression settled over his smug one from before.

Without a second to react, Stone grabbed ahold of Robotnik’s lapels firmly, tugging the taller man down to eye level. A nearly pathetic noise of surprise escaped Robotnik, but Stone decided to dwell on that later. The manic doctor surged forward and was immediately met with soft lips.

Robotnik was reasonably shocked, several questions racing in his head from his boss’s sudden course of action.

Stone harshly bit the agent’s bottom lip in order for him to open his mouth. And open he did. He wasted no time plunging his tongue into the more or less welcoming invitation, forcing himself to explore Robotnik’s mouth if he really did want his plans to go the way it needed to be execute. Stone mentally tucked away a complain about his agent not being a good kisser.

Robotnik’s mustache tickled his upper lip. Stone nearly wanted to abandon his mission when the sudden realization that he was practically exchanging saliva with his agent, but determination could get you far. Stone hate to admit it, but Robotnik’s lips were softer than he expected. This old man must have a real complicated skin care routine.

Even without Robotnik vocally addressing the situation, Stone knew they were both running out of breath. He didn’t need to prolong this anymore; he got his cigarette secured in his mouth already. But, with how his agent was treating him a few minutes ago, Stone supposed he could indulge in a little teasing.

The unexpected kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity, though in reality, it only had been a minute or two at best. Stone forced them apart, pushing Robotnik back while he still had his iron grip on the agent’s lapels. A thin string of saliva was the only remaining evidence of their intimate exchange.

The look that beheld him was almost laughable if shame wasn’t gripping by his neck. Robotnik’s glasses were crooked, nearly falling off his face. Not a hair out of place, but Stone could see how his cheeks were tinted red and the wrinkled that he had left on his lapels. His lips looked kiss bruised, an evident swollenness on his bottom lip from when Stone bit him. Robotnik looked, to put it simply, disheveled.

“Never think you can outsmart me, Agent.” Stone said confidently, adjusting the cigarette in his mouth. “Got it? Dismissed.” He would’ve stayed for the reaction, but the taste of nicotine in his mouth reminded Stone of his much-needed stress relief.

****

Robotnik could admit he wasn’t thinking straight. Ever since he started working for the doctor, he had to come to terms with things he hated to admit to himself.

But this was different.

Did the doctor just kiss him? Was that an elaborate plan or was the doctor doing it for fun?

Even with his high IQ, Robotnik couldn’t fully wrap his head around the matter.

Dr. Stone kissed him. On the lips. With tongue.

Oh god, is he going insane now?

For a moment, Robotnik just stood there, replaying and analyzing the kiss in his head. He tried to not let his mind wander into dangerous waters, but it seemed like, even if it was his own brain, it still would.

All he intended to do was fool around. He doesn’t really care if his doctor did drugs much less smoke. Robotnik never intended for a little teasing to end up like that.

Heat spread across his cheek, bloomed in his chest and making his body felt like an overheating oven. His shoulders tensed up, legs suddenly feeling weaker than they were a few minutes ago.

Placing both hands on his face, Robotnik backed up against the wall and slumped down, accepting the fact that he had to sit on cold dirty tiles. He could feel his blazer riding up his back. Robotnik let out a sigh, his emotions unclear and scrambling in his mind.

Glancing down at the weight that was slowly making itself noticeable in his hand, the agent noticed the lollipop that the doctor had grabbed laid in his palm still wrapped.

Robotnik huffed and unwrapped the candy, eyes never quite focusing on the action he was carrying out. Who knew that he would receive a first kiss at this age, much less from his employer as well?

The artificial grape flavor did little to ease his shame and worry. The candy was sweet, sure, but the flavor of it almost made Robotnik threw it away if he wasn’t so in need of a distraction.

Tilting his head back against the wall, Robotnik propped on of his knees up and rested his arm on top. Not a single thought floated by his brain until the telltale sound of the conference room’s doors opening up could be heard.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waaaaaaah, I'm finally finished with this! Oh god I'm so tired

Anyways, hope y'all liked the fic! Be sure to check out the original creator's work because this AU isn't mine but I decided to write a silly fic about it

Link to the original post that inspired chapter 4

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Incoming

Fandom: Sonic (MOVIE) Pairings: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone; Stobotnik Warnings: Blood, swearing, mention of organs (is brain an organ?)

Summary:

What happens when your agent gets kidnapped? The answer is simply too obvious:

Go after him, kill anyone and everyone in sight, bring him back and then start lecturing at him for being careless.

Stone would admit that he had been careless. His confidence, his ego got the best of him, made him separate from his team to go and finish this himself. It had become a common occurrence for Stone to willingly split up from the rest. It was also a common sight for him to come back, either drenched in the enemy’s blood, his own or both. Unfortunately, Stone was caught like a fish in a net this time. He had failed to recognize their traps fast enough and now it was too late to flee and crawl back. Maybe the doctor was rubbing off on him.

He was sure they knocked him out with a blunt object, and then later drugged him as if he would be able to wake up from that kind of blow. Through his chloroform induced sleep, he felt himself being dragged across the floor, through multiple hallways and down a tight corridor. Unfortunately, his mind was hazy and filled with fog, so he was unable to map out where they were dragging him.

When Stone awoke, the room he sat in was cold, dimly lit by one light bulb dangling back and forth on the mold covered ceiling. Stone could see his own breath coming out in small, visible puffs, fading away too fast as another punch was thrown at his already bruised face. Now with a little more threatening intend, Stone guessed. They’ve been going at this for a while now.

Stone had given up on fighting against his restrains long ago, maybe a few minutes at best. Having his hands cuffed behind him and have said cuffs chained and secured to the concrete floor beneath him had proved to be semi-useful information. These idiots knew how to trap their prey; he’ll give them that. Maybe he would even compliment them and give them a gold star for their efforts.

His arms felt strained, and his elbows were starting to hurt from being held behind the back of the chair he was still sitting in for the past hour. Stone could taste his own blood in his mouth, dripping down from his broken nose and from the scar on his forehead. He didn’t quite remember how he got it; everything was a blur until it wasn’t as pain spiked through his body and senses.

The men surrounding Stone were relentless, shouting and commanding him to spill any information he held regarding G.U.N.’s technology and its provider and maker. Stone knew that the only person that they would be talking about was Robotnik. His doctor.

The agent tuned out most of their insistence shouting, glancing away every so often before being dragged back into reality by a blow to his shins. His eyes felt heavy, his brain was still foggy. Stone bet he would’ve fell asleep some moments ago if these fools weren’t making an effort to blow their vocal cords out to keep him awake.

Stone looked up and past the strands of hair that had fallen over his face, eyeing each man, taking note of their physique in order to find a way to take them down later. A cough interrupted Stone’s train of thought as more blood came up from his throat, staining the concrete floor underneath him. Maybe he was in worse shape than he initially thought.

“One last time punk, because you’re really getting on my nerves.” One of the men said with a polite smile that wasn’t working very well. Forcefully grabbing onto Stone’s undone hair and yanking his head upwards, the man eyed him with a brutality Stone knew all too well. A guttural grunt came from the battered agent, which only served to fuel their cruelty.

A silent chuckle escaped Stone un-promptly after a minute of staring, startling a few men who looked at each other like he was a psychopath. And, in a way, he kind of was. If the doctor had influenced him this much, Stone would wear that title with pride for everyone to see.

His eyes burn, his throat felt like sandpaper, and he was in desperate need for a warm bed and some water. If holding these fuckers off meant G.U.N.’s tracking team could work faster, that was fine by him.

“I’m not telling you anything.” Stone spat, voice rough from all the beating he had taken in the last hour. As expected, another punch directly into his already battered nose. Stone was surprised he wasn't choking on his own blood right now.

Usually, Stone would be able to put up with these kinds of treatment. This wasn’t the first time that he got tortured for information. He had endured far worse, only to be near the gates of death before any of G.U.N.’s rescue team managed to get to him.

Maybe that’s why he was considered a valuable and important asset to them. Because he wouldn’t speak a word about any of G.U.N.’s operations, because he would rather die than have that kind of information be placed into the hands of complete and utter morons, whose only goal in life was to obtain power but has no idea how to use it to their will.

Any other agents in his position would’ve folded easily, would’ve given up any information that they wanted to save their own hide. Stone didn’t blame them; he would do the same if he was already getting tired of being used as a personal punching bag for a bunch of airheads.

But, to his own surprise, he hadn’t got tired of it yet. He refused to give up.

This wasn’t about G.U.N. anymore. This was about the doctor, about Robotnik. This was getting personal real fast.

If these idiots think they could get any information from Stone regarding his doctor, then they would end up with a corpse to clean.

Stone’s train of thought was cut off again by a telltale sound of a walkie-talkie buzzing. The biggest guy in the room pulled it out from where it was strapped to his belt and leaned in with a quiet question. Stone couldn’t hear what he said.

The sound on the other side of the walkie-talkie almost made Stone laugh. Instead, another rough cough escaped his dried throat.

Pained screams, useless begs for mercy rang out in the little confined room. All were cut short with sounds similar to gunshots followed by incoherent threats and a laugh that made Stone’s heart flutter. One guy sounded like he got punched.

“What the fuck is going on out there?” The guy yelled into the receiver of the walkie-talkie, glancing between the room and the device he held.

One final line buzzed through made the room go still, but Stone continued to feel ever more alive.

“He’s coming towards the room you’re in! Hurry the fuck up and get what we need!” Then, the intercoms fell silent, the desperate man on the other line buzzed out of existence.

The walkie-talkie was dropped to the floor, all the men in the room eyed each other with unconcealed fear. Some whispered among themselves, others started and tried miserably to form a plan that would work against their new attacker.

Stone’s shoulders started to heave, shaking with how hard he was trying to hold in his laughter. The way his body shook didn’t let him blissfully ignore the ever-forming pain in his arms and around his wrists.

One of the men turned his attention back to Stone, taking his silent laughter as mockery. Which, in all honesty, it kind of was. He stalked over to Stone with heavy steps made more pronounced by his boots, pulled the agent forward by his tie and sneered at him, trying to appear threatening while Stone smirked up at him, flashing a bloodied smile before his face was gripped by the chin.

“You better tell us what we want to know before we finish you.” The man screamed, spit flying onto Stone’s cheek. Fear and anger lanced in his voice, his grip showed desperation to live but clearly was doing the wrong thing to ensure his own safety. “You don’t have a lot of time left, you sick government dog!” the insult was hollow, used only when you want to provoke anger within you victim. A very useful tactic, but very overused.

Stone did the best he could and managed to spat onto the man’s face despite how hard his face was being held. “I’m not telling you anything.” Stone muttered again, knowing that this was the second time he said that now. These fools really need to learn how to listen.

From behind the guy that still had his ugly mug up against Stone’s bloodied visage, the sound of the wall crumpling could be heard. Mechanical whirring filled the room, followed by a laughter filled with bloodlust and unrestrained anger and impatience.

“My my, what do we have here?” Robotnik said, his voice became a waking call to the agent who was still chained like a dog. Footsteps could be heard, meaning the doctor wasn’t just levitating off the ground. Gentle, soft footfalls but maybe it was a cover for the destruction he was about to release.

Three men from the corner of Stone’s eye got grabbed and held in the air, each one getting their brains blown out agonizingly slow, making a show for the rest who knew what was coming. Stone wondered if dissecting one’s head and then crushing their brain was considered ‘blowing someone’s brains out’.

‘Face-gripper’ still refused to turn around, to face the painful defeat that was very deserving for a man like him. His eyes no longer looked into Stone’s, staring off to some unknown distance with the same fear you would see in a prey’s eyes.

Stone wanted to move, to see his doctor’s face. He wanted to say something, to scream for him. But he couldn’t. not when that hand still held his face uncomfortably.

“I kindly ask you to let go of what’s mine.” Robotnik’s voice dipped, almost low enough to not be audible but enough to give off a dramatic threat.

Mechanical claws crawled up on the man’s form, slowly circling his waist and wrists. Sharp metal tips danced across his skin in a way that shouldn’t be threating, making sure that they had a good grip before the sharp ends of the claws clamped around with unspoken deadliness.

Stone’s face was gracelessly let go, leaving him coughing and choking due to having his tie suddenly yanked and let go.

Looking up fully, Robotnik almost beamed like an angel. The angel of Death, draped in red and black, soaked in the blood of sinners.

“Hello, sycophant.” The doctor said with false sweetness as he approached, a wicked grin curling on his lips. Stone couldn’t tear his eyes away from the beauty in front of him.

His hand was still gloved as always, but now they were drenched in blood that was undoubtedly caused by the doctor himself. That magnificent hand came up and lifted Stone’s chin with its pointer finger, raising his gaze a little more. Fingers curled around his jaw, titled his face from side to side, brushing over open wounds and pressing down on his bruised lips. That hand cradled his face, examined him with the kindness of an angel but also the fury of a god. The doctor made sure his thumb pressed against the agent’s broken nose with some force, which elicited a pained groan from Stone but no objections about his examination came.

After Robotnik was satisfied with his examination, his hand cradled Stone’s face once, his other hand brushed strains of hair from his forehead to get a better look at the wound there before landing on the other side of his agent’s face.

“You look like a mess, Stone.” Robotnik commented, but the usual bite wasn’t there.

Stone smiled again, this time more genuine and filled with adoration for the doctor. He leaned into the touch, not caring if he was leaving himself open for Robotnik to take a hit at him. “Thank you, Doctor.” If the roughness of his voice bothered Robotnik, he didn’t show it on his face.

Instead, he summoned two badniks with a snap of his fingers. One was used to get Stone out of the chair while another was sent to go finish off the leftovers of this pathetic operation. His gaze eventually returned to the agent that now rested his bloodied face in the palms of the genius, eyes closed and a content smile on his face. His breath sounded uneven, streams of dried blood graced his upper lip.

If he didn’t know any better, Stone would probably be asking for a death wish right now. This fool didn’t even know if this is the actual Robotnik or not.

“Get up, Stone. We’re going back to the lab to get you patched up.” Robotnik announced in a rather soft and caring tone, but his face remained neutral. If the blood wasn’t being drained from him at this moment, Stone was sure his face would be flushed.

He didn’t get the chance to actually get up, however, as he felt claws picking him up with ease. The same ones that had finished nearly over a dozen men from before, still covered in blood and tattered fabrics from their suits. The same ones that the doctor made, holding him with care and gentleness.

They slowly lowered Stone into the arms of Robotnik, being as careful as possible with precision.

“You’re in big trouble for being careless, Stone.” Robotnik said, eyes filled with fading bloodlust, sweetly looking into Stone’s near bloodshot ones.

“I know, Doctor. Thank you, Doctor.” Stone muttered, feeling the exhaustion settling in. His limbs felt heavy, the pain that was previously there fading into a numbing buzz.

Before he fell unconscious, he heard something from the doctor. Maybe because of the exhaustion, maybe it was a last-ditch effort so his brain wouldn’t feel so bad when he died.

“I’m glad you’re safe, my dear sycophant.” The words that fell from the lips of his beloved doctor felt natural. But Stone insisted on mishearing it.

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Insolent: Chapter 3

Fandom: Sonic (MOVIE)

Pairings: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone; Stobotnik

Warnings: Idk tbh

Word count (cause I feel like putting it here): 1872 words

All around him would be agents, regardless of their standing position within G.U.N., walking and talking, bored out of their minds from the lack of action G.U.N. would usually witness. Robotnik had grown used to that sort of thing. If his apartment was something that lacked some personalization, then the agency lacked personality and a soul.

***

Gray scaled metal walls, shiny tiles without a stain on them. Big pristine windows acted as walls for some of the breakrooms, letting in an adequate amount of sunlight. And if it happens to get too sunny, deep blue curtains were available for use.

Dr. Stone’s lab, however, changed his view on that.

The interior of the lab was the exact opposite to the weather they’re currently witnessing outside. Scorching rays of sunlight quickly get replaced with the chilled breeze of the air conditioners, gently getting under the layers of clothing Robotnik had put on that morning. The air seeped into his bones, and as chilled as the air was, he couldn’t help but feel slightly comforted by the change in temperature.

Soft blue lights emitted from behind panels on the walls. The walls themselves are lined with what Robotnik assumed were LED lights but it didn’t seem likely. Even so, they were only standing in what Robotnik would call the lobby of the lab. A hallway towards the North were big enough for at least three people to walk side by side. The hallway was lined with doors, each had a silver labels with words indicating the purpose of the room and what it could possibly contain.

“Robotnik, was it?” Stone asked, passing his cup of coffee over to the drone next to him. As soon as the cup was placed on, it hovered away towards one of the many doors down the hallway, quickly accessing it and going inside.

“Yes, that’s my name, doctor.” The agent confirmed, hands still held behind his back.

“What if I were to tell you that there are no quarters for you here to stay?” The doctor was clearly putting up a test for him as soon as the question slipped out. A test to see if his answer would satisfy whatever twisted pleasure it was that the doctor had.

Robotnik quickly assumed that half of the given answers were either a small burst of anger or an insistence of a moron.

The lavender lenses the doctor had on were getting more eye irritating, nearly distracting. The way Dr. Stone eyed him prove to be unusually uncomfortable. If he was mentally mocking him, then he was doing a fairly well job at hiding it. Whatever was going on inside the mind of a genius like him, Robotnik doubt any answer would satisfy him.

“I’ll just return to my own apartment after work hours. Unless you ask me to stay, doctor.” Robotnik replied calmly. His hand came up to take off his shades, making sure he was making a show of it just to mock the flamboyant doctor.

However, the doctor seemed nearly satisfied with the answer as he pulled on Robotnik’s lapels to drag him down the hall. As reluctant as he was, the agent complied and half walked with the doctor while he dragged him.

It felt almost embarrassing, letting the doctor hauled him around like he was some useless peon. Robotnik suppressed the urge to pull away and maybe throw the doctor off balance.

“Your room.” Dr. Stone announced simply and dropped his grip on Robotnik’s lapels, allowing the man to straighten himself.

The door Robotnik was presented to was no different from the rest. The label on the door read ‘Employee’s breakroom’, which sounded reasonable if Robotnik hadn’t find it a little insensitive.

He didn’t need to ask; he knew he was expected to stay here even after work hours. Robotnik still didn’t understand why he had to stay after hours just because his new boss said so, but he decided not to question it for the time being. Robotnik had to pack his belongings back at his apartment just to be here now.

The control panel next to the door showed a hand symbol, indicating the fact that it required the user or occupant’s finger prints or hand print in order to allow access. If Robotnik hadn’t done all that research years prior to working for Stone, he might think Stone was hoarding loads of data worth of agents’ finger prints to somehow corrupt G.U.N.

“Don’t overthink it, my dear agent.” Stone comforted him mockingly, a small smile laid on his lips, emitting a false sense of security. “If those dark shades of yours didn’t make you completely blind, you would be able to see that it will still work even with your gloves on.” The doctor explained, a hand slithering down Robotnik’s arm to grab at his hand.

The agent backed away from seer disgust and uneasiness. Stone just eyed him like he did nothing wrong, fake innocence in his eyes from above the lenses but backed up nonetheless to give the agent some space. Robotnik sighed and brought his hand up to scan, accessing the room quicker than he expected.

The room was no bigger than the one he had back in his own apartment. A bed with smooth white sheets was pushed against the far side of the room, a small black nightstand was illuminated by what Robotnik assumed was a nightlight that just looked like a glowing ball on a stand. There was an adjoined bathroom in the room. Cream floor tiles and white wall tiles opposed the dark tones of the bedroom which made it pleasing to look at. The dark wood dresser by his bed had a mirror attached to the front of the door, which gave him some sense of ease as he could easily spot who would be behind him. Robotnik cringed at the small worktable that the room had.

The agent stepped in with caution, looking and inspecting the room thoroughly. Dr. Stone leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he observed the agent. The other agents when they first got the room was somewhat glad that the doctor was kind enough to provide a resting space for them. This room in question was different in a way. He knew that because he had heard, but Robotnik was cautious of everything the doctor does.

So what if he provided him a room? There could be a trap anywhere in here and Robotnik would be none the wiser.

“You’re being paranoid, agent.” Dr. Stone commented, yawning and turning away to return to the main hallway. “When you’re done being paranoid, prepare me a coffee.”

Robotnik rarely felt fear or anxiety. Suicide missions, harsh and near death interrogations, Robotnik could care less about those. But even a perfect agent had flaws. Robotnik watch the doctor as he made his way down the hall, entering one of the rooms before he completely disappeared from sight.

Make a coffee for the doctor, that was his objective now. Robotnik closed the door to his room and glanced down the hallway, quickly spotting a door with the label ‘Living’ on it. The agent thought it was quite ominous for a room to be named that way, given the doctor’s threatening behavior with others when they cross the line. Robotnik try to not let that thought distract him as he approached the room. This door had an actual handle but a panel was still there.

He should’ve just expected a fully functional living area within the room, but the fact that it looked like a small flat still shocked him.

Is this really where he’s putting his funding? Robotnik shook his head lightly as he made his way over the espresso machine.

Upon closer inspection, there was a small chalkboard sat against the wall beside the machine. Neat written instruction as well as a small sketch of a coffee cup presented itself to Robotnik. To the agent’s dismay, he was expected to make a latte, which meant he had to steam a specific type of milk that the doctor requested. ‘Steamed Austrian goat milk’ was written in bold letters.

The agent glanced over to the fridge beside the fully functional kitchen counter, assuming that was where the milk was placed alongside other things.

Robotnik would confidently claim himself to the best agent G.U.N. ever had. He would proudly flaunt it to those who skills don’t match his, whom carry out missions with a mediocre performance.

But he would not and never admit that he lacked some skills that are essential to all living beings. Cooking, swimming, making coffee: he failed at all of them. Robotnik was glad this job paid him well enough to buy himself meals every day.

With a suppressed sigh filled with anxiety, Robotnik carefully prepared the ingredients to make the coffee. It took him a minute longer than expected, considering he never really needed caffeine to actually function in the morning unlike some people. When the coffee was done brewing and the steamed milk was prepared, Robotnik did his best to make the mug look presentable.

He felt like this mug could end his career right here, right now. Robotnik could care less. Anything to get away from him.

Upon entering the room that he presumed was the main lab – also where the doctor had entered moments before, Robotnik’s ears were immediately assaulted with ABBA on full blast. Robotnik assumed the song that was currently being played was “Dancing Queen”.

The doctor didn’t even acknowledge the fact that he was there, spinning around in his chair while his hands grazed across all the holo-screens around him, flicking some away or pulling two together, quietly humming along to the song. When the music finally came down to an end, fading dramatically like any 80’s music the agent had ever heard, Dr. Stone finally spun around to stare back at his dumbfounded agent who had a mug in his left hand while the other supported the bottom like a coaster.

“Was wondering when you’ll deliver my coffee.” The doctor said with ease, an easy smile played on his lips as he beckoned his new agent over.

Robotnik did as wordlessly told, handing the hot mug over with some anxiety in his movements. If the doctor noticed, he didn’t try to address it.

Robotnik watched as the doctor took a sip of his coffee. His fingers fidgeted with the keys of his keyboard as he smacked his lips together to emphasize a point. What point? Robotnik wasn’t sure.

“You’re terrible at making coffee, agent.” The doctor eventually said, shoving the still full mug against his chest, some coffee spilled on the agent’s lapel by the hard shove. “I’m not going to drink this trash. Next time, be a good boy stick to making an Americano for me.” A mocking grin laid on his lips as all his attention quickly shifted back to watching the monitors and the floating deep blue holo-screens.

Robotnik complied with a grunt, not before purposefully knocking his foot against the doctor’s ankle on his way out. It definitely caught him off guard considering the frustrated scoff he caught after leaving the room.

What a waste of his time.

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Deviation

Fandom: Sonic (MOVIE)

Pairing: Stobotnik; Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone

Warnings: Not beta-read

Summary: Stone and Robotnik worked with each other for a long time. First out of spite, all because Commander Walters felt like Robotnik needed a handler. Later on, however, they could almost see themselves as colleagues, work partners that complained constantly about their superior and picking up dirt from their co-workers.

As of late, Stone realized there was a change in the doctor’s attitude towards him. And something was also wrong with the badniks.

OR

Badniks expose their daddy’s love for Stone.

Fic for @thisbellrings on Tumblr!

Robotnik’s machines has always been viewed and regarded as a marvel to Stone. Something that should be taken seriously, to be praised and to be documented in whole.

Not the government nor G.U.N thought about his machines that way. Robotnik’s machines were like toys to them. A new project to test run and another thing to destroy just for mere entertainment.

The projects weren’t deemed important to Stone. Hell, he didn’t even care enough about it to actually complete the whole blueprint. Robotnik definitely didn’t care enough to put more effort into it.

The only machines that he ever really cared about and cared to improve constantly were his babies. His own creations with no inference. His badniks.

Stone admired that about the man as much as he admired every other part of him. About the way he treated them with care like a worried father. The constant baby talks that the agent would sometimes stumble upon were no less endearing to hear. The talks don’t just limit inside the lab. Robotnik did it in front of several others before where Stone was present to hear it all. They mocked him for loving a machine more than loving in actual person, which resulted a series of insult and a broken nose.

To think that each badniks had their own unique implemented AIs to run their systems. Stone always thought that Robotnik was always the one controlling them. No one in their right minds would think a robot liked to follow them around, watch them make coffee and bump against their arm whenever a praised was directed at the drone.

Stone thought the constant head bumping was because the doctor wanted Stone to stop, because it was annoying to hear his assistant praise a non-sentient being. Even though the doctor constantly does it himself, Stone never thought to confront the doctor about the badniks’ strange behavior from time to time. After all, if it wasn’t happening frequently or was affecting his work in any way, then Stone was perfectly content with having them follow him around like they do with Robotnik.

One day was particularly strange, however. Thinking back on it, Stone assumed the badniks malfunctioned, but it didn’t seem likely since they always got their maintenance routine performed by the doctor. Stone got a hand in it, sure, but it was just mainly passing Robotnik the necessary tools to fix them.

It had been late afternoon that day, Robotnik hunched over at the main console while his fingers flew across the holographic keyboard, glowing a bright cyan under his hands. Stone had insisted that Robotnik use an actual keyboard but was aggressively refused because of the annoying tapping noise each key made that would repeatedly throw Robotnik’s train of thoughts of the rails.

Stone had been in the break room at that time, brewing the espresso into the cup he had gifted the doctor a while back while also waiting for the milk to steam. A badnik had been present at that time, one of the smaller models at least. It stayed hovering over his shoulder, watching his every movement, replying with a small beep to everything Stone said or questioned.

Stone couldn’t help but thought how the smaller models of the badniks looked like an egg, white and oval shaped just like the real thing. Sometimes, when he saw a swarm of them, Stone couldn’t but giggle at the sight of little semi-sentient, robotic eggs flying around in the air. He never questioned Robotnik about their design, and he felt like he would be berated if he did.

After the latte was made, Stone questioned himself what to draw on it this time. Before, when he had just started working for the doctor, it had been simple patterns like the tulip pattern since it took less time to make, and hearts were too intimate. Later on, however, he drew the heart pattern in many different styles and sometimes Robotnik’s face with little hearts around it if he had time. Those ideas were getting old, though.

Stone wanted something new, something refreshing if not hard. It could be simple but had to be something different.

As his mind wandered, so did his eyes. They eventually landed on the little badnik still hovering near him. Their design was simple yet intricate. The appearance didn’t seem like much, but Stone had seen the workings of their system from the inside before.

He knew it was a long shot, but he lined up his aim and took the shot either way.

“Could you just position your something like this?” Stone asked the drone, using his hand as an example.

The badnik registered his hand movement with a simple beep, immediately spinning around to the position that Stone requested. The agent smiled softly at the way the badnik held completely still for him to draw it into the doctor’s latte.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” It was simple and slipped out almost naturally. Robotnik didn’t like it if anyone else called his machines that way, but he seemed to make an exception for Stone.

After the drawing was complete, Stone picked up the cup and proudly showed it to the waiting badnik. Although the lining of the latte art itself was a bit messy and admittedly kind of wonky, it still turned out great in Stone’s opinion. And he wasn’t alone on that. The badnik chirped and collided with Stone’s forehead gently, it was like giving fist bumps but with affectionate head butts instead. Stone chuckled, giving the badnik’s dome a gentle pat before making his way to the doctor, badnik in tow.

Stone entered the lab, making sure his steps were audible lest he scare the doctor out of his skin again. Immediately, Robotnik registered his footsteps, removing one hand off the keyboard and positioned beside him, letting Stone use his hand as if it was a cup holder.

The agent beamed at the simple gesture. Stone would usually just place it on the table, announcing to Robotnik about his prepared latte. After a while, Robotnik got impatient and tired of always reaching for the cup himself after it was placed down. So, the sight of Robotnik reaching out willingly to wait for the cup to place directly into his hand had become a common sight.

However, Stone was stopped dead in his tracks by the badnik from before. It hovered in front of him, almost refusing to move as it just close the distance between him and the drone.

Stone just stared at the badnik, confusion evident on his face. It didn’t do anything weird, to say, just gravitating towards him as if he was a badnik magnet. Two or three more came to join their sibling, fussing over Stone as if he was an intruder and they needed to scan him for any weapons. Stone tried pushing the badniks away, but it didn’t seem to work very effectively.

“Stone!” Robotnik yelled, eyes not leaving his monitor. Stone immediately perked up at the mention of his name, his hand paused from pushing a badnik away from him. “Latte. Yes-ter-day.” Robotnik said, emphasizing by removing the hand that was on his keyboard before to jab his index into the palm of his waiting hand.

Before Stone could move out the way of the badniks that were present in front of him to deliver the coffee to the doctor, more badniks were summoned for seemingly no reason. The badniks just figuratively stared at him, moving closer and closing in on the terribly confused agent. A few hovered near his legs, as if inspecting his physical fitness. Others examined his torso, scanning his face and ruffling his hair. Stone just stood still, now holding the latte in both hands to avoid it from spilling accidentally.

“Doctor?” Stone spoke up eventually, trying his best to push through the continuous waves of badniks coming towards him. Admittedly, he didn’t know if he should try. “I-uh, do have it, it’s only that- “

The excuse was cut short, an audible sound of his teeth smacking together was heard throughout the lab.

“Stone, of all the days to- “Robotnik yelled, both of his hands dropped to the arms of his chair as he turned around to face the sorry excuse of an agent he got.

Similar to Stone, Robotnik was also rudely interrupted. Well, maybe not, but he did stop mid berating to look at Stone’s current situation that somehow stopped him from bringing the doctor his latte.

The sight was... a little ridiculous at best.

Stood behind him was Stone, nervous and confused with at least fourteen badniks surrounding him, bumping and scanning him. In his hand was the latte he was supposed to bring to Robotnik, still steaming. Stone looked up from where he was staring at his feet before having a badnik nudge against his forehead, forcing him to look back down.

“I’ve been swarmed.” It was barely above a whisper, but somehow still loud enough for Robotnik to hear the nervousness in his voice. Robotnik just grabbed the back of his seat with both hands in disbelief

If Stone was still a new agent, this behavior from the badniks wouldn’t be surprising. But Stone wasn’t new, and he had already become a constant occurrence in the lab. There are signs that he had been here for a while, and all the badniks have registered him as one of their main handlers (because Robotnik was and always had been the first).

Both were silent for a while, save for the sound of machinery whirring as the badniks fussed over Stone for seemingly no reason. Stone stared back at the doctor, big brown eyes in clear distress, the cup that’s still in his hands started to warm the meat of his palms but not to the point that it hurt.

After a few more minutes of observation and staring into each other eyes, Robotnik sighed and turned away. Waving a hand behind him, Robotnik clenched and let go of his hand, all the badniks immediately obeying his order and flew off in different direction.

Stone sighed and smiled brightly as he approached the doctor with nothing in his way, handing him the now cooling latte.

“Your latte, with steamed Austrian goat milk.” He announced, handing the cup to the visibly frustrated doctor.

 To Stone’s relief, Robotnik accepted the latte, nonetheless. “Syco-friend, I’ll leave you to the mercy of the Badniks.” The doctor threatened, grabbing the cup with a glare to the agent who stood beside and behind him a little.

“Understood, Sir.” Stone replied, knowing well that the threat didn’t apply to him as harshly as the other agents before him. He couldn’t help but smile at that thought.

‘They have been more affectionate to me in front of the Doctor as of late…’ Stone thought. It hung heavily between him and Robotnik. Heavy, but not uncomfortable.

Robotnik, on the other hand, wasn’t frustrated of Stone. He hadn’t felt frustrated towards the oblivious man for some time now. But, as his superior and an important asset to G.U.N, he had a reputation to keep up.

‘The Badniks don’t even attempt to be subtle…’ He thought, forcing down the heat that threaten to flush his face.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

NOTE: The number of badniks mentioned in the fic is accurate to the original post (me thinks)

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Insolent: Chapter 2

Go check out the first chapter of Insolent before reading this one! (I've decided that this would become an actual story)

When some of the guards had stumbled into his quarters in the previous day, he was ready to fight them purely out of annoyance. But when informed that he was assigned to one of the many scientists within G.U.N, he was almost surprised that he was now assigned to someone.

Though, Robotnik didn’t expect that that ‘someone’ would be Dr. Stone, the one Walters had warned about to stay as far away as possible.

Of course, Robotnik did some research on the doctor during his free time. His discoveries were endless, all of which still used by G.U.N until now. Weapons, guns, all the technology he had ever laid hands on while being in G.U.N’s facility was made by Dr. Stone himself.

He wouldn’t be surprised if a man like that was also extremely arrogant.

His wake up call today wasn’t the usual blaring of the alarm clock on the side of his bed, but rather the insistence knocking of the commander. It wasn’t Walters who was knocking, though, so the agent could care less for this no-name, no-face commander.

“You’re an unfortunate soul, agent.” The commander said as Robotnik opened the door to wordlessly greet her, a mocking smile laid on her glossed lips. Robotnik didn’t replied, too busy fussing over his hair and mustache to make sure it looked presentable in the full length mirror standing in the corner of his quarters.

She stood silently in the door frame, unmoving, weirdly watching Robotnik move into the bathroom with its door still opened, arms packed full of his choice of clothing for the day. The door was quickly shut and locked with an audible click, providing a comforting distance between Robotnik and the commander that still stood at the door frame outside his quarters.

Usually the agent would just make sure he looked half decent with no excessive accessories. But, just for today, he decided to overdress himself to meet this arrogant doctor.

Smoothing out his mustache in the mirror above the sink, he backed up to admire what he could possibly see in the reflection of himself.

Perfectly ironed blood red dress shirt, toned down with a black coat and tie. The golden colored buttons on the coat and clip on his tie caught the light in a flattering way, making his outfit stood out as if he was the one with power, with authority while still looking business casual. The silky black gloves he had on only added more to his charm.

Glancing outside the bathroom, Robotnik could still see the female commander standing there, applying another layer of pale peach lip gloss over her rose red lipstick.

Robotnik hated it when people disregarded his personal space, let alone where he stayed after missions to fully recover before going back to his apartment. But he felt like even if he beat that commander to a bloody pulp, she still wouldn’t budge. Perverted.

“Try not to get fired from this one, agent. It won’t look good on your track record.” The commander spoke up after he had exited the bathroom, his hands smoothing out his lapels. Her tone was bitter but her eyes said otherwise.

“Let’s just get going.” It was almost dismissive on his part, but Robotnik could care less about how he talks to people half the time.

The walk to the doctor’s lab was silent, a few other agents - who were his former colleagues before he rose to a higher rank - walked past them with what seemed to be pity in their eyes. The elevator ride was filled with hushed conversations, some between colleagues while other were directed towards him. Whenever they tried to question the agent, however, a side eye was all they got. The glare intense enough to pass as a warning.

Dr. Stone’s lab was located outside the building, towards the back but far enough from the parking lot. Obscured enough to be ignored by outsiders but still visible to those who work for the agency.

When they said that the doctor rather not communicate with others, Robotnik thought that the doctor would avoid conversations all together. Isolation wasn’t something that would come to mind but he didn’t seem surprised by that fact.

“You walk there yourself, agent.” The commander waved her hand in the air as if to dismiss him, but her hand landed on his shoulder instead after a short while.

By instincts, Robotnik grabbed her hand violently and twisted it, earning a pained grunt before she wrenched it away from Robotnik’s grip, clutching it against her chest.

“I suggest you think of what would happen to your arm next time before you touch me.” The smile he offered would’ve sent chills down a weaker man’s spine, even in the bright daylight.

The commander just stared at him, disbelief and slight fear in her eyes masked with false anger. As quick as it happened, she turned around and marched back into the building, breaking into a sprint when the door was close enough.

Walking up to the lab’s door, Robotnik took notice to the various hanging pots near the back of the lab. The plants varied from cacti to tulips, roses and small rock lotus. They don’t seem neglected, however. The plants themselves don’t look like they’re just there for show, a pitiful attempt at displaying some shred of humanity that the doctor somehow still kept.

No, none of that. The bright green leaves stretching towards the sun and the flowers that bloomed beautifully was enough of an indication that Dr. Stone cared about those plants.

When he had reached the front, Robotnik knocked on the metal surface twice and hard, impatience already making itself known in his actions. Robotnik made no action to knock again, instead, he decided that if the doctor wasn’t going to respond to him, then he had all the rights to leave.

When he turned around, however, a figure made itself known in the distance. The sun beamed down with no mercy, which made it harder for the agent to actually see who was approaching him.

Robotnik pulled out his square frame sunglasses, gently placing them on his nose bridge and squinting at the figure.

Flowing white coat with purple lining, paired with that a yellow turtleneck that didn’t quite hide the charm of the coat. Legs clad in deep blue jeans stride towards Robotnik with unspoken confidence, black high ankle boots shining lightly in the sun light. The boots seemed to have additional platforms, making the doctor appear taller than his actual height.

“Ah, you must be that agent they sent down.” The figure shouted to him with false cheerfulness. Robotnik just stood there, hands behind his back as he waited patiently for the doctor to approach.

Soon, Stone came into view with a machine hovering next to him. The machine blinked its sensor at the agent, dilating before the sensor shrink back to its original size. Robotnik eyed the doctor with a hint of judgement, taking in the sight of the shorter man before him. The grin plastered on his face seemed to only be there for display.

“Hello doctor, I’m Agent Robotnik.” Simple formalities first, Robotnik reminded himself. “I was sent down as your assistant.” He added after a while, watching Stone peered at the man from behind his lavender shaded lenses.

The color itself already started to irritate Robotnik to an extent. How could anyone handle color tinted shades in the first place? It would be a total distraction and would only do your eyes the favor of killing itself slowly.

The doctor didn’t respond back to Robotnik’s introduction, mockingly taking a long drink from his cup of coffee. The agent assumed Stone went out to buy a drink.

“You’re only temporary, so don’t start getting ideas.” Stone replied eventually, pressing his gloved thumb to a panel to the side of the door. Despite having a layer of fabric covering his finger, the scanner immediately registered him and opened the door for its creator.

‘The only ideas I’ll be getting is slapping you across the face when I get the chance’. Robotnik thought, his right eye twitching slightly with irritation that was luckily covered by the shades he still had on.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading! Similar to chapter 1, this will be updated on Ao3 by @simoia-vajik so go check this chapter on their account as well (might be a bit late to update tho)

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Stobotnik "Insolent" fic is now on AO3 under the same name!

Thank you @simoia-vajik for doing the favor of posting it on AO3 for me (That's their name on AO3, the fic is still called "Insolent")

Hope I'll be able to get my own account soon!

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Insolent

Fandom: Sonic (specifically the movie)

Pairings: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone; Stobotnik

Warnings: Cussing (there's like one cuss word)

This fic is inspired by @tubby1230 with their own take on the Reverse Stobotnik AU.

I was just really bored and wanted to write something that could test my not-so-extended imagination.

⚠︎Not much has been added to this AU by the original creator so I’m just gonna depend on what there is so far while also throwing some of my personal takes in.⚠︎

His monitor was blinding his eyes at this point. Not a very great idea to pull an all-nighter on a project that was just about finished anyway. They can do the assembly themselves; all he was assigned to do was to make blueprints and models for it.

Sighing in both exhaustion and frustration, Stone stretched his arms over his head, earning a few pops from his tired spine. Maybe getting a little sunlight wouldn’t hurt.

Standing up from where he was sitting for the past two days with minimum movements, having his little Pebbles bring him the essentials to keep his body running, Stone made a few turns to enter the small bathroom close to his lab.

His appearance was just as he predicted it would look like. Messy hair, reddened eyes from staring at the holo-screens for way too long. His suit and jacket looked like they’ve been crumbled and tossed around, visible creases already driving deep into the fabric. His beard almost looked unkempt if it wasn’t for the very few attempts, he made during those two days to make sure it was in perfect condition.

Stone groaned and complained heavily to himself, quickly stripping out of the suit that had clung to him and tossing it into the laundry basket before going for a shower.

His hygiene routines usually last longer, an effort to make himself look more presentable than others in the agency. But, just for today, he didn’t feel like it was completely necessary. For his facial appearance, that is.

Getting out from under the soothing water flow of the shower wouldn’t have been so difficult if he didn’t know that he had a meeting today. Not only was he supposed to present the project that he had finished an hour ago but also stay afterwards for Walters to talk about some changes that will happen. Not changes to the agency, but changes to only him in specific.

“I’ll murder you all one day.” Stone groaned, hands coming up to cover his face. The threat was directed to no one in general.

Drying himself off and trimming his beard so it wouldn’t look over grown, Stone grabbed his new attire for the day. Luckily, his precious little Pebbles had ironed his clothes to perfection. Maybe he shouldn’t have worn that black coat days before. Stone really need to tone down the color of half of the clothes he has in his wardrobe.

He didn’t really specify what he wanted to wear, so upon closer inspection of what his machines got from his messy closet, Stone was more or less disappointed.

Set on the counter was a neatly folded purple turtleneck along with black dress pants, all set next to each other in the order of how he usually puts on his clothes. The shirt and the pants weren’t something he would be complaining about; his disappointment was more directed towards one of his machines carrying one of his more or less pristine white coats.

Even if he viewed the coats he owned as ‘white’, every time he goes out shopping, the color ‘white’ constantly varies. The coat which was presented to him was more of a light beige color, which he didn’t like very much but nonetheless was too tired to go get himself another one.

After spending a few minutes in front of the mirror, adjusting his coat to his liking, Stone turned to pluck one of his many optic frames off a display stand, examining it in the light before putting it on. Today’s color seemed to be titanium white for frames and periwinkle for the lenses.

“Thank you darlings, papa’s off to work!” Stone announced loudly, making sure that all of his machines detected his voice as well as his farewell.

They all responded in affirmative beeps, some hovering over to him just to bump against his arm. Stone let out a small, breathy laugh at the endearment he was getting from them, patting their hulls before existing the lab with his coat flowing behind him.

✂-------------------------------------

Maybe he should’ve sent someone else to do this presentation for him.

Maybe he should’ve excused himself from such idiocy just to work on multiple other projects.

He had a handful of agents at his disposal, less than happy to take on his orders but does so anyways because of the fear of being laid off. Even if Walters didn’t and still hasn’t approved of how he treats his agents, the commander can’t say that the number of agents that got caught slacking had decreased lately.

Stone quickly finished up with the presentation, being as vague as possible when describing their abilities just so he could get out of there sooner. Everyone within the room stared at him, some unimpressed while some are paying way too much attention.

When it was finally over, Stone sighed in relief, feeling lighter than when he was answering those morons’ questions.

As Stone thanked everyone for attending, the sudden reminder that he was expected to stay gave him an immediate headache. If he wasn’t so worried about his funding, he would’ve left with a little flourish, maybe he would even say something. But alas, he’s been on thin ice with Walters for a while now, and if he continues to skate around in circles he’s sure to fall into the freezing depths below.

Shutting the door and locking it for some more privacy, Stone returned to his seat, leg crossed over each other while both his arms rested on the arms of the chair.

From afar or without enough knowledge, Stone would look like a flamboyant boss while Walters looked no more than a manager.

Oh how Stone wished that would be the reality. He doesn’t dream of it often, but it sure does give him a tiny boost during the day.

“Thank you for attending today’s meeting. That was an excellent presentation, doctor.” Walters commented, a smile on his lips with an underlying bitterness.

Stone didn’t try to give a snarky comeback at the halfhearted attempt to fuel his ego. Instead, a similar smile was offered, Stone making sure that his smile comes as both bitter and sour.

Walters sat down at the top of the table, pulling out his tablet and a physical file. On the cover was the red stamp that reads ‘CLASSIFIED’ with bold letters.

Soon, Stone was presented with a digital picture of an agent, looking a few years older than the doctor himself.

Unlike the doctor, this agent seemed almost pale in comparison to the doctor’s dark skin tone. His hair was dark brown, appearing black due to the lighting in the picture. Combed back with what seemed like an attempted to make it look like a parted top, Stone could say he almost appreciated the effort. There were ample stubbles on his jawline, paired with a handlebar mustache. His eyes looked like they were trying to bore holes into the camera lenses itself, cold and calculated with a hint of mischief.

“Dr. Stone, we’re assigning you a personal assistant to help you with projects and to keep you in check.” Commander Walters announced, pulling out the file of this supposed assistant and placing in front of the doctor. “We highly suggest you don’t fire this one without a notice in advance like last time.”

Stone picked up the file and smiled politely, pretending to look over this agent’s profile. “Thank you for being so considerate as to send another fool to my lab.”

Walters sighed heavily, his fingers coming up to pinch at his nose bridge while he observed the egoistic doctor from the corner of his eye. Stone just smiled mockingly, though he did try to actually look through this agent’s profile.

“He’s 48 years old?” Stone commented eventually, putting agent…whatever’s file down, pointing at the space where agents and any government officials would fill in their age. “You’re going to send me, what, a caretaker? Babysitter?” At this point, Stone felt like he should punch this man’s face in for ever even suggesting such an idea.

The commander, clearly not having enough energy to put up with this, pointed at a side note that was added to the agent’s file, signaling that he no longer wanted to talk but still needed Stone to consider taking this agent.

‘Agent Robotnik has refused to retire even with many attempts at convincing him. When presented with physical convincing attempts, Agent Robotnik retaliated with physical violence.” 

Stone snorted at the note, already imagining the many attempts of making a man like that leave his job. Even with the entertaining thoughts about the agent, Stone still wouldn’t accept having someone wandering around his lab, thinking that they could work their way into his favor.

But he decided to sign the contract anyway, making this agent his official assistant after looking at his skills as well as his impressive streak.

“Thank you for your cooperation today, doctor.” Walters said as he gathered up his own belongings for the day. Stone just nodded, pushing his frames higher on his nose bridge.

“That’s correct.” Walters didn’t bother looking Stone in the face, appearing tired and mildly frustrated with the doctor’s immaturity.

“I supposed this agent will be sent down immediately tomorrow like the rest of them?” Stone asked as he got up from his seat. He already knew the answer, but it was an attempt.

An attempt at being nice, just so the higher-ups could go back to being delusional so he could get his funding.

Stone nodded, hand itching near his pocket to pull out a cigarette. Deciding against it, Stone redirected his hand to his front pocket instead, pulling out a stick of spearmint gum and chewing it silently as he returned to the comfort of his lab.

That agent better not be late tomorrow. No small mistakes would be forgiven.

[a-drifting-mannequin]

I'm sorry for misunderstanding your situation, but that doesn't change the fact that I still want to partner up with you to write something

Maybe, you don't have to write it, just throw in suggestions and I'll write it. After I wrote it down, I'll let you see it and you tell me your opinion on it. That's still co-writing

We could work out a little schedule if you like, whenever you're free

Hii, if it's not too much to ask, could we maybe write something together?? Currently, I'm working on a ouaw (once upon a witch light) fic but I'm not sure if you know them

We could still do tf2 if that's to your liking!

@a-drifting-mannequin

Oh.......................................

Ah... I still can't write a background for a Canon character. Let alone an oc.

I do not deserve this blog

[a-drifting-mannequin]

It's not always like that. Maybe your brain doesn't find any interest in writing about the backstory since you already laid out so much time developing the appearance. For the mutation part, it's probably more interesting and your brain could actually work with that with the knowledge you already have

So, what I'm saying here is: we can write a fanfic together, it doesn't have to do anything with OCs. And, no, I don't think writing background for a canon character is similar to an OC because you already got most things laid out. You just gotta find a way to manipulate that I totally get storyline of your liking

Hii, if it's not too much to ask, could we maybe write something together?? Currently, I'm working on a ouaw (once upon a witch light) fic but I'm not sure if you know them

We could still do tf2 if that's to your liking!

@a-drifting-mannequin

Oh.......................................

Ah... I still can't write a background for a Canon character. Let alone an oc.

I do not deserve this blog

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Hey, it's okay! Everyone starts somewhere. And that somewhere for me was Wattpad

It's okay if you're not used to writing a lot right now, but there's room for improvement as long as you try to seek out the help you need

Hii, if it's not too much to ask, could we maybe write something together?? Currently, I'm working on a ouaw (once upon a witch light) fic but I'm not sure if you know them

We could still do tf2 if that's to your liking!

@a-drifting-mannequin

Oh.......................................

Ah... I still can't write a background for a Canon character. Let alone an oc.

I do not deserve this blog

[a-drifting-mannequin]

The fact that I sent this so long ago kills me

Like, I sent it, and now I'm receiving an answer (I'm not mad, just realizing that this was my question)

Thank you for answer, btw! I think your human AU is awesome and the crew being all humanized sounds like a very cool concept that I want to try writing about

I'll be sure to tag you when I make a small story about them!

Can you tell me more about your AU? Pretty please???

I need inspo and motivation to write and I reeeeaaaaaalllyyyyy wanna do something that involves making every single one of them human

Also you're so cool

OMG SORRY TO ANSWER YOU THIS LATE, ANON, BUT, SURE!! (Also, thank you, Anon, you're cool too!!;;💖💕)

ALRIGHT... First of all, I have two versions of this AU. Tbh, I haven't really decided which one to use here or if I should use both versions (Might just tell 'em apart with a special # but we'll see about it later idk).

So... PATH 1

They became Humans/Human-Like because of some fucked up curse. Could be your typical Fae Curse that gets them in silly shenanigans, or an actual fucking curse by some witch or whatever the hell you want (Still unclear sorry---).

So now they have to try to live with their new form while also trying to get back to their normal form lmao (A quest??? Idk)

And now PATH 2

It's just the same going on but they're Human-Like. Something like "Modern-Fantasy". Where it's not exactly all Medieval but also not exactly "normal life"???

Kremy here not only runs a carnival but also a casino (Both broke lol). And humans are quite different than the way we all know (They can have animal-like features, as well as fantasy/fae-like features if that makes any fucking sense. They're just really weird fucking ""humans"" JSKSKAKKSKS).

The world is still running with magic and magic rules, but again, it's not exactly medieval. Might include some silly shit like ""normal"" jobs and that kinda shit that you see nowadays but with ✨ magic ✨ lmao(¿?

And I was also thinking about a third path, where they can change form and that's why they're not fully human, but I'm still not prepared for those mental gymnastics right now---

If anything, for the second path, has also some depth in the past of the characters (When they were at the carnival/casino), but it's still in development lmao(¿

AANDDDD UUUUHHH... IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY??? Like,,, If you got any asks or want to mess around with them, go on! NAJSJAKAJJS

(This is an Ask Blog but also a place where I want to keep my silly AU, so any question is more than welcome here!!💖💕)

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Discoveries

Fandom: Once Upon a Witchlight (Legends of Avantris)

Pairing: Gricko Grimgrin/Morning Frost; Grimmorning

(Some of our today's inspiration: @royhasissues; @crowliphale (vaguely))

Please don't read if you don't feel interested, I'm just letting anyone who reads this know where I get my ideas

┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

Summary: A series of stories of Gricko discovering things about Frost and how those said things affect him!

~~~~

Gricko is a druid, of course. It's obvious through his actions of making flowers bloom and trees grow, or by the way he carves little statuettes of nature's powerful spirits.

Not only that, he's sort of an expert in monsters and beasties alike. Maybe that's why he's able to take care of Hootsie so well.

While having a sufficient knowledge of many different animals, he never had questioned himself much about Frost or Kremy.

He never questioned Kremy for reasons that he had stated himself many times before. The gator is secretive about his personal life, past as well as humor, fashion sense and physical anatomy.

For Frost, however, the goblin never actually thought of asking. He had been his best friend for a long time, even before they met Kremy and Gideon. A druid and a sorcerer, walking along side together with an owl bear squeezed between them. They looked like a nice pair, and for a fact, they were.

It was around midnight, if he recalled correctly. The night was as peaceful as it could get, sleeping in the woods and all. Branches danced in the wind, dead leaves falling from its fingers as it moved.

Everyone had their own tent for that night, but because they were very near the next town, Kremy had the idea of splitting everyone into little groups. Him and Gideon, Gricko and Frost, and Torbek gets to sleep alone if he really wants to.

When it was too hot to bear being inside his bedroll, Gricko had decided to just sleep on top of it with Hootsie draped over him.

Suddenly, a flickering light of one of the lamps started to illuminate the tent he shared with Frost. Gricko had just woken up from a rather weird dream when he heard Frost mumbling some kind of chant, like a prayer.

Not feeling awake enough to make his presence known to the tabaxi, Gricko just lie there, drifting between consciousness and sleep in a comfortable manner. The chanting continue, never seem to cease while he's still awake.

Is Frost making some kind of prayer to whoever he worships? But from what he could recall correctly, Frost never had anyone to worship in the first place. Even on the path of righteousness, like he always claim to be, Frost could be a little chaotic and take Kremy's side for fun.

Feeling like he had enough strength to just take a peek at what Frost is doing, Gricko got on his elbows and peered over to Frost over Hootsie's mount of feathers.

There sat the tabaxi in all his glory. Usually he would be covered in his robes, but today seems to have a surprise in store for the goblin who was unfortunately awake at that time.

Instead of being face to face with smooth green fabric or the thin material of an undershirt, he was faced with orange fur covered in black stripes, some trailing up to his neck and around his torso. The underside of his arms is covered in white fur instead of orange like the rest of his body, the black stripes still coming around and hugging his arms.

For a tiger and sort of humanoid, Gricko could definitely say that Frost looked defined, like how Gideon would look but slimmer.

Had Frost been that hot to just strip down to his bare dignity? He only ever had seen Frost this bare when Chuckles came back and took his clothes away. He rather keep those images that had burned into his mind far away from his fantasies and dreams.

Gricko could feel blood rushing to his face and a little down further than his abdomen, but he refuse to acknowledge the feeling. He shouldn't have thoughts like this about his best friend, and watching your friend without his knowledge was and still is complete indecency, not to mention very creepy.

Now deciding that he had a good enough view and had stared a while too long, Gricko faked a groan as if he just woke up and faked struggle to get out from under his owl bear daughter.

Frost's ears perked up, immediately noticing the noise and scrambling to pull his tank top over for some decency, turning over to the struggling goblin with masked calmness.

"Oh, Gricko, I didn't realize you were awake already." Frost said calmly, though Gricko's mind says otherwise.

"Yeah, heard somethin and that kinda rouse me awake." Gricko lied, eyes trailing down the rather toned tabaxi, eyes lingering just a bit on his chest after turning over to face the wall of the tent.

Frost hummed and sighed mentally. Gricko, on the other hand, wish that he could've gotten a better view if Frost just happens to grab at the wrong shirt and didn't have time to pull it on.

The silence between them was thick and awkward, unspoken questions hung in the air, curiosity drowning Gricko and affecting his sleep. Frost didn't know what to say either, eyes focused on the flickering flame of the lamp for a while to long that dark spots started to form in the corner of his eyes.

"I knew you were awake," Frost spoke up eventually, eyes glancing behind him to see the goblin getting out from under Hootsie. There was a look of guilt and shame on his face, his cheeks dust in a light pink out of embarrassment.

"I didn't mean to, alright? I was just curious." His voice was hushed, eyes averting away from Frost's stare, hands tangling in his daughter's feathers.

In all his years, and now at this age, Gricko didn't get why he's acting like a little kid getting caught staying up late out in the garden. He felt like he was about to confess to his crush. It was a normal thing, at this point, for a grown man like him to want like how Gideon would usually be. He did it openly, too, like how Gideon often would. But in the presence of Frost, he could bear to tone it down a notch, made sure his friend was comfortable.

Frost, after all, was the youngest of the krew if Hootsie was out of the question. For a young tabaxi, he isn't like the rest. The others would be pretty open and nice, they've encountered a few already and they were very open to conversation. Not like Frost.

"If you are curious, please do ask next time." Frost offered, his voice soft and quiet, eyes searching. Gricko gave him a small nod and stared back down at his hands.

Maybe he should ask next time instead of being a creep.

~~~~

"Frost, stop stalling, we gotta go now! " Kremy shouted back at the tabaxi, a hand coming up to hold his hat down.

Frost grunted back in response, letting go of his barriers to dash and catch up with his friends. Gricko was standing right beside Gideon, eyes wild and full of worry, waiting for Kremy and Frost to catch up. No one is being left behind.

They should've never decided to do this. They should've never entertain the thought of doing it in the first place!

Gold and precious jewels shoved into bags and pockets clumsily, feet slipping against stairs and beautifully tiled floors as they desperately ran and tried to find an exit. Furious metal footsteps chased them down corridors and well furnished hallways, knocking over any type of display that might get in their way.

Gideon's hair burst into flames from adrenaline, licking up and around his horns. Any sweat that happened to form immediately evaporated into the air from his intense heat. Gricko had a burlap sack over his shoulder, carrying it in a manner similar to a flour sack, but instead of flour there were gold.

Kremy carried his own, but most of them were already carried by Gideon who oh so generously offered to carry it for his boss. In the pockets of his nice jacket were all types of rare and beautiful gemstones, add in a few more gold and all of this might seem worth it. Frost breaths were coming in short and labored, his eyes narrowed and just as intense as Kremy's, using his magic to at least crush some of the guard's minds while Kremy ran in front of them looking for a way out.

"Kremy, they're gaining on us!" Gideon shouted, huffing and trying to readjust the sacks in his arms without stopping or slowing down.

Kremy cursed quietly in front of them, then coming to a halt so abruptly that it caused everyone else behind him to either almost fall on their face or pile up on each other on the floor. Gricko was one of the many to actually fall face first, an audible wet cracking noise was heard between all of them.

"Kremy, what in the nine hells are you doing?!" Frost screamed furiously, his face betraying his sense of calmness and collective personality.

Gideon was shocked for a moment at Frost raising his voice to Kremy, kneeling down to host Gricko on his shoulder. The alligator didn't respond. He raise his cane to the wall in front of them, charging up his Eldritch Blast before the wall was blasted into millions of pieces in front of the krew.

"Now go! Don't just stand there and stare!" Kremy commanded, picking up his fair share of their stolen goods and making a run for it. Frost doesn't know how far they'll make before the guards catch up to them, but he didn't hesitate.

Picking up whatever that had fallen on the floor with mace hands, Frost dashes after the rest with his heart drumming in his ears.

An hour of running later, the group finally settled down at a clearing. The metal footsteps stopped following them, a furious voice shouting orders for them to fan out in the town instead of the forest that they ducked into.

Gideon groaned and dropped all the gold onto the forest floor, lowering Gricko down by a rock before collapsing himself. His soot smeared shirt was now covered in small patches of blood, there were tears here and there on it and on his pants.

Gricko's nose was slightly swollen and definitely broken, blood trickling down to his lips. Not much damage was done on him considering he was small enough to maneuver around easily. Kremy's suit was dirty and wrinkled, his hat partly burned in one corner due to Gideon's hair igniting so suddenly.

Frost was bent over, hands on his knees and breathing heavily. Heists usually wouldn't turn out this way, usually more quiet and less having to run for their lives. When it does happen, however, that's when they managed to escape with more goods than they could carry.

"Well, that's was a tough one fellas." Gricko said, his voice sounding weird due to his broken nose.

Pulling a bananya out his pack, Gricko started to chew away at it until all their attention was diverted to a noise coming from Frost. The tabaxi was still bent over, but his hands gripped harder at his pants and his whole posture seem to be shaking slightly.

Kremy worried that he might have pressured the calm natured sorcerer and that might have forced him into some state of shock. Gideon was just preparing himself mentally for any vile insults that Frost might throw at Kremy while Gricko didn't know what he should expect.

Eventually, Frost lift himself up from bending over with hands on his knees to reveal a bright smile built on adrenaline.

Gricko nearly dropped his bananya seeing Frost smile for one of the first times in his life. I mean, Gricko was sure that Frost smiled plenty before, just that he had never seen it or even catch a glimpse of it.

Everyone else seemed equally shocked at the sight. Soon, Frost started to chuckle quietly before bursting into a good natured laughter, his paws coming up to somewhat cover his ever growing smile.

"I- what or who are you laughing at?" Kremy questioned immediately, his clawed hand gripping the skull on his cane tighter as this might be a clone that was swapped out for the real Frost during the chase. Gideon, as protective as ever, took a step forward to put himself in front of his boss.

Gricko, with his nose now healed, slowly approaching Frost with caution that both Gideon and Kremy shared. Frost stopped laughing after a good few seconds, his laughter becoming something more similar to soft chuckles before stopping completely.

The goblin that stood beside him reached up and patted his arm twice, still very hesitant of what his next actions might be. The tabaxi looked over and smiled down softly at him, making the goblin feel something inside that he wasn't sure what to put it as. His eyes didn't seemed glazed over nor did any of his physical appearance had any fault.

"My deepest apologies, I didn't mean to burst out like that." Frost said, his calmness returning to him but the smile never seem to disappear.

Kremy sighed in relief and squeezed Gideon's arm for a bit more reassurance, earning a deep chuckle from the man beside him.

~~~~

"Yeah? You want this one girl?" Gricko said, looking down at his daughter and ruffling her feathers.

She nodded excitedly, looking at her father with puppy dog eyes just to convince him to buy it. Of course he'll buy it, Gricko would buy almost anything for Hootsie if she really wanted it. Either way, these were just a few bows and friendship bracelets so why not?

The other guys had split from him to go find their own stalls or vendors to buy from. Around the shop he was in, stores were filled with beautiful garments, some specialising in certain species while some are just for all species to buy.

Gricko was currently standing in what you could call an accessory shop. Small display case of necklaces and bracelets covered in expensive gemstones shining beautifully off the many lights that surround them.

Gricko by now has finished is shopping, mostly buying things for Hootsie while he look for things that would suit someone like him. Nothing of interest caught his eye, as he was most content in his own fashion style with not much to add to it.

"C'mon Hootsie, let's go pay for these and we can go find your uncles, yeah?" One would usually never asks a child's opinion on leaving shops or not even if the adult had decided so, but Gricko would because he wants his daughter to know she still has choices even if her father made most of them.

At the counter stood a very bored looking tabaxi. Gricko guesses that they might be a korat but he wasn't sure. There are lots of cats with grey fur anyways.

"Hello my good lady, I would like to pay for these!" Gricko greeted the tabaxi woman cheerfully, going on his tip toe in order to place the items on the counter.

She perked up and turned her attention back to her shirt customer, immediately calculating the item's prices. Though, something else caught her attention.

For a goblin, he smells awfully similar to a tabaxi. None of her kind walked in here for the past hour, and it was strange for a goblin to smell like one.

Her curiosity perked up, subtly scanning the goblin with her eyes while she pretended like she was still packaging his items. The owl bear next to the goblin seem to pick up her inspection, quickly giving her a suspicious look.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," She started, giving Gricko an apologetic smile. The druid just nodded, prepare to hear her question regardless of how ridiculous it is. "Did anyone ever tell ya that ya smell like a tabaxi?"

Gricko was confused at the question, tilting his head slightly to one side, both out of confusion and to look at Hootsie.

"Uh, I don't think so, ma'am." Gricko answered, giving her a skeptical look while reaching out to grab the items he purchased.

The goblin knew that some animals mark their territory with a scent that he's sure him and Gideon can't smell. They also do that to mark mates, just so others would know to not give any advances. And the only tabaxi they ever knew was Frost.

Gricko wasn't sure about what she meant by him smelling like one. For a certain fact, Frost doesn't hold hands or get close to a lot of the guys and that means him as well.

Gricko and the tabaxi woman stood and shared a moment of awkwardness, the silence stretching on more than necessary. The customers around them gave them curious glances, some whispering amongst themselves about the awkward pair at the front.

Gricko didn't know how to rescue himself from this situation. He was usually the conversation starter, but he didn't know how to completely end it.

Sometimes, it would just be Kremy and Frost pulling him and Gideon away from conversations to get back to the task at hand. But, right now, the guys were far away from him. Frost was probably doing regular shopping, Kremy and Gideon are most definitely robbing people on the other side of town, and Gricko was stuck here.

Luckily, Gricko didn't have time wait any longer for Frost bursted through the door. His face was expressionless, eyes focuses yet wandering. His eyes landed on the tabaxi lady behind the counter, and on habit, he lowered his head for a brief moment as to greet her. Hootsie let out a happy little hoot seeing her uncle and started to walk around in circles around his legs.

"Gricko, I'm sorry to disturb your conversation with this lady here but we need to go." Frost said, his face staying expressionless but his voice sounded breathless and hurried, as if someone was rushing him to get Gricko as soon as possible.

And, it was safe to assume that it had to be Kremy.

Gricko nodded, holding his stuff close to him and dashing after his mate, leaving the door of the shop swinging with repeated chimes of the bell above.

Before he went though, he saw the woman's mouth formed something similar to a quiet "oh", followed by a nod. Gricko hoped it was nothing bad.

After picking up Kremy and Gideon who were both laughing and carrying lots of jewelry and fancy clothing, they settled down in their temporary living place. Luckily, Kremy manageed to shake off most of the guards, though Frost suggested to move towns immediately after tonight.

"Hey, Kremy?" Gricko called to the gator, his voice wavering with a bit of nervousness. Or was it fear? He wasn't sure.

Said gator was cooking up a simply meal of what Frost was able to pick up at the market before he rammed into him bodily, pockets stuffed with gold and a stumbling fire genasi behind him. "You need something?" Kremy answered, sounding rather uninterested in what the goblin might ask.

"Do tabaxi scent mark like regular cats?"

The question was odd, and it didn't seem very appropriate to ask about it. I mean, scent marking is kind of private, right?

Kremy stopped storing the pot, gray eyes seeming a little distant as if he didn't heard Gricko's question correctly. The goblin patiently waits for an answer, hands reaching anything on his body to hold onto for self security.

"Yes, I'm sure they do." Kremy finally answered, voice maintaining its calmness.

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A/n: I FINALLY FINISHED THIS!! After what seems like forever, I hope you all enough this! (No, I didn't have ao3 account. Wish I did but I'm not sure what I'll do on there)

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Update: Life wrong, brain no work, no motivation, can't keep up with simple stuff

Solution: I need to temporarily leave this world and still gain all the knowledge I need

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Update: Accidentally deleted my entire Magic out of hand part 2

This is gonna take a while...

[a-drifting-mannequin]

I need to apologize in advance if I get their lore, characteristics and literally everything wrong. I haven't finished watching the whole series yet but I'm desperate to write something.

Inspired by @opheliajupiter99 on my main blog abt Kremy

Motivated by @pyrit on one particular ask I sent a while ago

Magic out of hand

Fandom: Once Upon a Witchlight (Legends of Avantris)

Pairing: Gideon Coal/Kremy Lecroux; side Grimmorning that could be perceive as platonic

Warning: Slight body horror, badly written due to not having a good grip on the lore (blame the author)

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A daring escape, one might say. The krew had barely got out of trouble with their hides intact, but they were lucky that they did. Thank the Baron, Kremy did not have the energy to put up with more trouble today.

He wouldn't blame everything on anyone in the group, not tonight, not now. It was their night out, similar to the guy's night they once had when Frost was absent. This night, however, wouldn't be described as fun to Kremy's standard. Gideon had his fun, picking up girls with relative ease while he offered to pay for their drinks in hopes of getting someone home with him. Gricko drank his senses away while rambling about something that Frost seemed to find interesting.

Those specifics weren't the reason they got in trouble. Maybe. They all went about their usual business, drinking and laughing. Kremy had been dealing cards with a few good looking folks who looked like they had their pockets lined with money. Kremy needed that, the krew needed that. What with four extra mouths to feed, not counting Gideon and himself, Kremy had to do what he was best at if no one was going to step up.

The actual reason why they got in trouble in the first place was entirely Kremy's fault, but also partly Gideon's fault. He had way too much to drink that night, the rum tasted better than he initially thought after one sip. His tricks and hands were slower, the alcohol running his system made him sloppy, and one of the guys sitting there with him managed to catch a glimpse of him slipping to exchange the cards.

The next showdown between them weren't pretty.

The enormous man had pressed Kremy up against the wall with one hand, having him dangle his feet in air before placing them on the wall he was pressed up against. The tavern had gone quiet at the display, some still chattering but all eyes were trained on him. Gideon had been a fool not to hear the telltale noises of Kremy being in trouble before it was too late. Frost didn't drink anything the whole night, yet he still had trouble helping Kremy in the first place.

When Gideon finally realized, the man had already threw a punch to Kremy's face, kicking more than a breath out of him. Soon, he met solid ground in a bad way, with a foot on his chest, a knife at his throat with silent threats being thrown his way. Frost managed to keep the rest of his goons away from Kremy, but Gideon was late to start throwing punches at the man towering over the gator. By the time they left the tavern, Kremy was in pretty rough shape.

Gricko and Frost walked ahead, muttered apologize being tossed between them, Gricko occasionally looked up at Frost with guilty eyes. Gideon insisted on staying behind to help Kremy, though the gator doesn't feel like he should be grateful. Gideon was so busy with some floozy that somehow, he forgot that his job was to protect Kremy.

Even if Gricko didn't have much involvement with the situation, he still look pretty banged up with Gricko holding his bruised up arm, taking a sharp breath in every now and then.

"Don't worry, I'm sure we still got some bananyas back at camp." Gricko reassured everyone eventually, earning a small hum from Frost and silent nods from the rest.

Kremy had his arm around Gideon's shoulder, practically being manhandled by the genasi. Gideon had a few cuts here and there, but not as roughed up as Kremy at that moment. His suit was dirty too. Damnit.

Their camp soon came into sight and they all sighed in relief. The fire had died down to flickering embers, but it didn't take long for Gideon to start it back up. Kremy settled down with a painful grunt, holding his arm while mentally questioning if there was a cut on his neck. He definitely felt blood trickling there, but was still not sure.

Torbek sat in one of the many tents they had set up, with Hootsie snuggled up against him, half asleep. Kremy assumed the reason why the fire died is because Torbek was stuck with Hootsie on him so he just refused to move. Gricko came over and smiled down at the groggy Torbek, waving a hand over his face and offering to take Hootsie from him.

"Hold still Kremy." Frost said in that monotone of his that always made Kremy want to snap at him with how calm he sounded.

Frost barely shows emotions from time to time, but today he looked more worried. He made no movements to touch Kremy, his eyes scanning over his form in a way that made Kremy uncomfortable, like someone checking you out in public. The tabaxi hummed quietly and moved to the fire without another word.

Gricko fished out a few bananyas and tossed them at Gideon, who catched them clumsily. Torbek was offered one first by Gricko himself.

If he dies one day and it was Gideon's fault, may the Baron be good to him. Of course, he knew Gideon likes to run off a whole lot of times, but today was not acceptable. He straight up left him to die, one way or another, with some pretty girls buying him drinks for the night. Kremy didn't get the attraction that Gideon felt towards girls, he never did. And with their revealing clothes and breast, Gideon acts like he's tied to a string of one sided love.

"Kremy?" Gricko asked, shaking Kremy's arm gently as to not cause more damage. "You haven't taken a bananya yet." In Gricko's palm was the bananya that he didn't took. Maybe the last one even.

Kremy sighed and mutter a thank before taking it. Peeling it wasn't a problem, but his whole body ached and protested against any movements. Nevertheless, the rest already looked healed up besides him, so with some reluctance, he peeled it and took a slow, small bite.

Gideon was already helping Frost cook something even if he knew the big genasi couldn't cook very well. Gricko gone to tending Hootsie's feathers, comforting her since he was away for a while. Torbek stay silently in the tent, eyes casting around the area like paranoia was crawling on his back. Kremy pointedly ignored any glances or questions that might come from Gideon, giving only wordless nods when Gricko asked if he was alright.

Of course he wasn't alright, anyone with eyes would see that, even the ones who weren't trying. His suit is ruined, with dirty shoe prints on the fabric. His bowtie was in tatters, torn here and there for whatever reason he didn't bothered wondering. Gideon, of course it had to be Gideon's fault that he ended up like this. But, then again, he can't say it wasn't his fault as well, he had lots to drink so he has to be the one to blame as well.

His thoughts were cut short when he took another bite, not feeling healed up but rather more pained. His muscles still ached, his heart was still pounding in his ears, his scars and bruises didn't look any better. Another thought hit him, blaming Gricko for giving him a bananya that wasn't having the effects it usually does.

Another ache, then a sharp, stinging pain like a bullet being shot through his temple made Kremy groaned in agony.

This immediately attracted the group's attention, with Gideon being the first one to come to Kremy, reaching out and cradling him in his arms. Worry painted his face, his eyes searching but nothing came up. Gricko was half way off the ground, kneeling with one knee propped up, a hand suspended in the air that seemingly tried to reach out for the gator.

"Kremy, hey man, you alright?" Gideon asked, genuinely worried for him.

Kremy was just about to brush Gideon's worries off until another sharp pain presented itself near his ribcage, making him choked out a quiet groan.

Frost checked in with Gricko, cataloging everything that Gricko told him that he had given Kremy. Frost brows knitted together at the mention of the bananya, a hand coming up to hold his chin in a way that detectives usually do.

"Gricko, did you put the same amount in like you usually do?"

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Wanna me to make a wip of the first few paragraph s for ya just to give you a view of what you could want

Hiii :3

Ever thought of whipping up some fanfics for your fantasy AU or any sort of fanfic for tf2 in general?

I might come by once or twice a week to drop sole ideas for ya!

Uh... I tried... I got two sentences.. then it kinda fell apart