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story time with dr. robotnik. Agent Stone x Ivo Robotnik. Brief blood and violence, first kiss, pov first person, hope does traditional dialogue, humor, romance, fluff. Doctor Robotnik doesn't need anybody. He certainly doesn't need another babysitter-- er, assistant-- all up in his business. Enter Agent Stone.

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Okay folks, get your listening ears on because today we’re going to have a little story about the smartest guy in the whole wide world and his loyal henchman. Can you guess who they are? I should hope so. It doesn’t take two braincells rubbing together to figure it out. Is everyone comfy? You’d better be, because once we get started I don’t want to hear a peep out of you, or see so much as an eyebrow wiggle. Got it? I’ll count us down. Three… two… one.

First things first. Working for the government is a soul-sucking, demeaning, exhausting slog through the dullest meetings and blandest working lunches you’ve ever seen. You think the private sector is bad? Try having to give a powerpoint presentation as to why your beautiful, sleek, semi-autonomous robots are more deserving of funding than yet another fucking tank, while keeping your vocabulary simple enough that even the most decorated generals can understand. Are you picking up what I’m putting down here?

Now try not only having to deal with that mountain of crap, but also the occasional kidnapping or assassination attempt— at least those tend to be more interesting than the normal day-to-day blah blah blah “okay, Doctor, let’s go over the budget for next quarter, make sure you pay attention to the line items for infrastructure repair and psychological counseling.” Have enough of those meetings and eventually they’re going to start assigning babysitters. Well, Walters says they’re assistants, but Walters is like your grandpa who got stuck in the bathroom at an Olive Garden ‘cause he forgot to turn left at the plastic ficus tree. So he’s either lost his goddamn mind, or he’s the most sadistic freak this side of the Rockies, aside from yours truly of course.

Anyway. Where were we?

Oh, right. The kidnappings. They used to happen now and then, usually in between leaving lab complex B and driving off into the sunset. Some big burly dumbass would slam a pillowcase over my head and we’d take a little field trip to some dank basement or another. Did they ever get violent? Yeah. Most of the time it’d be your basic hit to the face, maybe a four out of ten on the pain scale. A few bruised ribs if they were feeling especially handsy that day. They’d say something asinine like “aww, look, you’ve gone and got your suit all messy,” which, talk about stating the obvious. Of course it’s gonna get all messy when I’m being dragged across the floor like a fucking swiffer. Bet you’re wondering if that’s why I started wearing all black, to save on dry cleaning bills. The answer is no, but thanks for playing.

Maybe they’d start cutting my shirt open if they were feeling especially saucy. There’d be more tired by-the-book intimidation, the sound of buttons pinging onto the floor, then a little bit of “give us what we want and I’ll stop cutting here, unless you want me to find out if the carpet matches the drapes.” After a while it gets old, you know. Also, you don’t get to find out the answer to that one either. Too bad, so sad. Use your puny little imaginations instead. Then there would be someone holding a phone up to my ear with Walters or somebody yammering down the line. And I’d have to be all “yeah yeah your stupid secrets are safe, blah blah blah, somebody come get me already, I’m bored.”

That’s how things used to be. But I guess someone decided too much of the budget was being spent on rescue ops and not enough on sweet rolling chairs for the big bosses’ offices. One day the mandatory meeting wasn’t about “Doctor, stop torturing the interns” or “Doctor, your floating egg thingys are frightening the staff.” No, this time it was just Walters and some new guy. New guy was glaring at his coffee like it ran over his cat. He took a sip and scrunched up his nose. I could practically hear his tastebuds begging to be put out of their misery.

So the first thing I said to the guy was, “who the hell are you?” followed, naturally, by “I wouldn’t drink that. It’s probably poisoned.”

“Tastes like it,” New Guy grumbled, which was kind of surprising coming from Uncle Sam’s bitch. Most of them have sticks so far up their asses the ends are being digested in their stomachs. “I could do better.”

“Well, you’ll have plenty of chances—“ this from Walters, who was looking entirely too self-satisfied.

“Don’t say it.” Dammit. Another babysitter already? “I just got rid of the last one.”

“—since you’ve been assigned to Doctor Robotnik as his full-time assistant. Doctor, meet Agent Stone.”

“…fuck.”

And that’s how we met.

Now, I know it’s hard to believe, but I have a bit of a reputation. Difficult to work with, makes widows and orphans cry, cuts in line at the self checkout, that sort of crap. It’s all true, except for the self checkout thing. I get my groceries delivered. Well, Stone goes out and plays fetch for me, so really it’s the same thing. For whatever reason, my assistants don’t tend to stick around for very long. I wish they’d mop up their snot and tears on the way out the door, though. It’s all…slimy. Totally gross, not to mention a slip and fall hazard, even if Walters denies all my claims with “it’s your own damn fault, now scram before I send OSHA after you.” Jerk.

I can’t help it if these dimwits can’t even duck when one of the robot arms goes by. Assistants? More like ASS-isstants. At least Stone didn’t start bawling the first time one of the arms got him. He just picked himself up and meandered off to find an ice pack with an “apologies, Doctor, is it alright if I take a minute to sort this out?” The concussion was totally unrelated. The guy’s got a diamond-hard skull. And a diamond-hard…er. Ahem. Moving on.

Speaking of hard-headed: do you know how long Agent Stone has been working for me? Eight years. Eight long years. The previous guy lasted about a day and a half, and the record holder before that got to his one-month anniversary before fucking off to greener pastures. But this guy. This fucking guy. First off, he comes in with his ridiculous mononym, like he can’t afford a first and last name. Just Stone. Plain old Stone. Boring, rock-steady, dependable Stone. If you ask him, he’ll just say he doesn’t remember ever having any other name. Is he lying? Did the head trauma get to him after all? That’s a question for the ages.

Let’s circle back to the kidnappings for a minute. Our first abduction happened about six months in, after Stone got comfy enough to start keeping a potted plant on his desk but not comfy enough to complain when I’d walk past and swat it onto the floor. What, you doubt he’d complain about anything? Clearly you don’t know the guy. If he’s not pestering me to get some sleep or to eat something that I can’t slurp through a straw, he’s staring at me like he wants to chew on my… leg. Yeah. Leg. Or whining “please, Doctor, I’m so close!” Sucks to suck at Scrabble, my dude. But we’re getting off track here. Kidnappings. Right. Yeah, you sure perked up at that one.

So we started off like usual, with the pillowcase and the hard chair and the zipties. It’s a dependable setup, if uninspired. The location was new at least: some office building with grody grey carpet and big windows. We’d just gotten to the punching part, with some bozo demanding answers to questions that hadn’t even been asked yet. I told him he had it all backwards, and he didn’t like that one bit. Talk about a being a bitch ass; guy couldn’t even handle a little helpful criticism. So he slugged me right on the jaw, and the asshole left his ring on, so now I was sitting there all bloody with this guy’s class ring embossed on my damn face. It hurt like hell, so I started yelling and then he started yelling, and then faster than you can say “quantum mechanics” he had a very large knife pressed to my throat. Now, even I know when it’s prudent to shut the fuck up.

It’s just that I find prudence to be boring as hell, so I told him he could go fuck himself if he could find his dick. Why be cautious when you can be awesome?

Too bad Mr. Big Knuckles disagreed. He pressed that blade in, just enough to make a shallow stinging cut. He leaned in so close I could smell the tonsil stones on his breath, and ground out “just because I still need you alive doesn’t mean I can’t carve some of the extra bits off you, starting with your tongue. You don’t have to talk if you can write, little man.”

Which, rude.

So there I was, bloody and gross, with a knife-wielding maniac all up in my business, when somebody started screaming. Then someone else joined in. There was gunfire echoing all over the place. Big Knuckles went to peer out for a little look-see and his head exploded. I don’t mean that figuratively. I mean his head just wasn’t there anymore. Gone. Kaput. I’d say his brains were all over the wall, but it’s doubtful he even had any to begin with. Then in came Agent Stone, gun drawn, splattered with blood like Jackson Pollock had a lovechild with Michael Myers, only hotter.

And do you know what the first thing he did was? Not cut me out of the damn chair, which would’ve been the logical thing to do. No, he holstered his gun and held my face in his big warm hands and stared at me like… well, at the time I didn’t have any idea what that look was like, but it was intense, even for me. Kinda got me a little shivery. “Doctor? Are you okay?” The first thing out of his mouth was just asking for Captain Obvious to kick him in the nuts.

“Do I look okay?”

“Right. Sorry. I mean, are you badly injured?” He was still staring. Did you know his eyes almost have a reddish glow when the light hits them just right?

“I’m fine. Get me out of here, you can play nursemaid at home.”

On the plus side, the ride home wasn’t actually that long. On the minus side, we had to do a mini debrief on the way, tablet stuck to the dashboard with bubblegum and string. Walters shuffled into view in his bathrobe all like, “this had better be good, I was just about to put on my stories.” He went from doddering grandpa to doddering Commander in a hurry when he saw all the blood, though. “Oh, good god, Robotnik. What did you do now?” Not “are you okay, Doctor?” or even “are my precious state secrets safe?” No, he jumped straight to blaming poor innocent me.

Now, that got Stone’s hackles up. He could’ve turned coal into diamonds from how hard he was clenching his teeth. “The Doctor was injured in service to G.U.N., sir. Some concern would not go amiss.” I know that doesn’t sound too bad, but you had to be there. You could practically smell the brimstone wafting off him. If he could have reached into the screen to strangle the Commander, he would have. And Walters knew it too.

“Just message me your report later, alright?” At least the old man knew when to cut and run.

Fast forward. I’m getting bored of this bit. Let’s skip forward to something more interesting. Do you want to hear about Stone patching up his dearly beloved Doctor? I hope so, because either way you’re gonna hear about it. We went to my place, because to be honest I had no idea where Stone lived. Did he sleep at the lab? In a van down by the river? Some penthouse full of glass and chrome? At that time it was a big mystery, and anyway he just kind of auto-piloted to my apartment so it didn’t really matter. He knew the way, probably from fetching groceries all the time, so we got there quick enough.

Stone laid me down on the bed, which, okay. Kind of weird in hindsight, since he had to go past several chairs and a sofa to get there. At least he had the good sense to put a towel down so the sheets wouldn’t get all bloody. “That’s my guy.” I guess I must’ve said that bit out loud, because he looked at me almost… fondly. Which was super weird because nobody looked at me like that. With hatred, sure, or annoyance. Admiration, briefly, usually from the ones who only read the white papers and hadn’t actually gotten a chance to say hello. But never fondness. It was…

It was nice.

“Always yours, Doctor.” He poured some antiseptic on a cotton ball and started cleaning my cuts so gently it barely even hurt. His lips were parted just a little, tongue poking out to tap his front teeth. He was close enough that under the blood I could smell warm skin and sweat and a little whiff of cedar. Now, don’t give me that look. There’s nothing weird about noticing how someone smells. We have senses for a reason, you know. Observation. Classification. And sure. Appreciation. Why not. He leaned over and smiled a little when he was done. It wasn’t a big old goofball smile— just a soft small thing— but the corners of his eyes got all crinkly so I knew it was real.

We didn’t kiss then. I know you’re thinking about it, but it didn’t happen. I thought maybe it might, but all he did was look at me for the longest time, like he was thinking hard about something. He opened his mouth and shut it again, which. Have you ever wanted something and not wanted it at the same time? Like if it happens it’ll just be too big for you to handle, and if it doesn’t you’ll be disappointed? Well, that kind of weakness opens you up to the whole world fucking you dry. But me? I’m all lubed up with self-sufficiency. I don’t have to worry about paradoxical nonsense like that. Mmmhmm.

Stone cleaned up and went off to write his report while I settled down for a snooze. Guess my body was ready for a recharge, because it was morning before I woke up smelling coffee. What do you know, there was a fresh latte on the nightstand— on a coaster, of course, Stone’s nothing if not thoroughly conscientious— and it was the best damn latte I’d had in a long while. He wasn’t kidding when he said he could make good coffee.

I found Stone in the kitchen, doing I don’t even know what. Something domestic. He looked up with his big bright “I get to work for the greatest genius ever” smile. It was positively disgusting. Anyway, despite all speculation to the contrary, I don’t actually wear my gloves to bed. And since I was all distracted by my latte with its adorable badnik drawn in foam— but don’t tell Stone I said that or he’ll get a big head— I was still barehanded when I gave him back my empty cup. Well, his little finger brushed against mine and when I say that it felt like an electric shock, I’m barely even exaggerating. He felt it too, and I heard his breath catch. You wouldn’t think such a little thing could matter so much.

“Doc— Doctor.” It was almost a whisper, slipping out like he didn’t mean to say it, and then he was reaching up to my face again, slow and careful. “Are you, um. How are you feeling? Your face, I mean.” Now, normally I would brush him off but I guess my brain was still rattled a bit from being smacked around like a piñata the day before, because eventually his eyebrows got all squinched together and I realized I was staring. “Doctor?”

If I was staring, then so was he. “Mmm?”

His thumb brushed over the ring-shaped lump on my jaw and sure, it hurt some, but I kinda wanted to see where this was going. Now, I don’t like being touched. Skin on skin is too— naked, not to mention unnecessary. And yet here he was touching my face again and I was letting him. Maybe I really did have a concussion. If I had a concussion, though, then he must’ve had a death wish for trying in the first place. I tried to be angry. I tried to make myself shove him away.

But instead I leaned into his hand, bending down a bit, and he was right there. He was mumbling, looking up at me, hand still cradling my jaw. "Tell me to stop, Doctor, please. Hit me, do something, I can’t. I need you to, or I—“

I didn’t stop him. I could have. We could have gone back— not quite to how we were before, but close. I could have drawn a hard line and he would have respected it no matter how he felt about the matter. But I didn’t. I opened my mouth, for once not knowing exactly what I would say next. What I said was, “Stone. Shut up.”

And then I kissed him.

Yes, me. The great Ivo Robotnik, the man with gears and wires where his heart should be, the man who needs— and is needed by— no one. I closed that last little bit of distance and pressed my lips to his. You’d think he wasn’t expecting it with how he gasped into my mouth. His other hand came up and now he cradled my jaw in both hands like he was holding some precious fragile thing.

“Won’t break, dammit.” I won’t say I moaned it into his mouth, even if the words were wet with strings of saliva. But I could feel the way my words vibrated against his lips and it was…it was…

I understood, then, what people mean when they say that a touch or a kiss took their breath away. It felt like drowning, and the only thing between me and my untimely end was him. Is that crazy? It feels crazy, but what do I know? But if I felt it, then he felt it too. He gulped air and dove back in, and his mouth was so warm, so wet, and his tongue— well. It was everywhere, thick and hot, licking into me like he was trying to memorize every crevice, every tooth, every place where needy wet sounds might go to hide.

I realized then, he was trying to commit the kiss to memory. He was afraid he would never get another chance, that at any moment I’d miraculously come to my senses and push him away, that I’d never let him touch me again. Idiot. So I told him exactly that. I pulled away and I could see that fear cementing in real time, but before he lost himself to it, I brought my hands to his face, so that each of us was holding the other.

“Stone. Stop thinking about it. You’re being ridiculous.”

And then I kissed him again.

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agent stone in the chao garden scene !

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leather jacket Stone

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Thinking about the early days of Robotnik and Stone... They're both orphans with a dislike of humanity and a fascination with machines of mass destruction, so I wonder if they ever talked about their personal lives and private traumas.

...Probably not. But maybe they came close?

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Had a lot of fun reading this morning!

@kittycatfite

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Cured!

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Basic life stuff on Father’s Day your dad may have never taught you

Men’s pants often have what’s called vanity sizing so a 32 inch waist between different brands is actually different sometimes. It’s still a good idea to try the pants on before you buy them.

A flathead screwdriver can be used on a Phillips head screw.

It’s always morally correct to simply walk away from a salesman. You don’t need to buy a mattress to be polite. Just leave. Walk away. Skedaddle.

A complete meal has fat, protein, carbs, and some kind of fruit or vegetable. A snack should have carbs and protein. That’s how you stay full for longer and get your vitamins. It’s really that simple.

Dumpster diving is legal in many countries including the US, Canada, and Australia but trespassing and property damage are illegal. If you are allowed to be in an area and can access the trash without breaking anything you can just take stuff

You should be thinking about retirement savings even in your 20s and 30s. Get a mutual fund.

If you go gambling, only spend cash and pull out exactly as much money as you’re willing to lose from the atm. Never use a credit card in a casino if you can avoid it.

You can add a layer of seasoning to a cast iron skillet right on the stove. You don’t actually have to put it in the oven every time.

To build a fire, build a little pile of kindling first with plenty of air under it. This can be sticks or leftover wood from the hardware store. Doesn’t matter. Then light some newspaper or leaves under it. This’ll help the kindling catch on fire. Then you can add a log to it. The log needs a long exposure to flames before it catches on fire.

Fresh cut wood needs to dry out for several months before it’ll work as either building material or firewood. Several years is even better.

Flower delivery for simple bouquets costs less than you think it does and makes a nice gift for people who are hard to shop for

University libraries often let the general public get a card to check things out from them for a yearly fee. This is useful to know if you’re ever doing some specific research.

To make hard boiled eggs easier to peel boil them with just barely enough to cover and let a lot of the water burn off. Then shock them in an ice bath when they’re done.

If you or your pets end up killing a venemous snake by accident or in self defense you should bury the head so that no animals get poisoned by it because the fangs can still distribute venom

Tall people who visit your house can see the tops of your cabinets and bookshelves. Clean accordingly if you don’t want people to see dust.

Annuals are plants that will die after one year and perennials are plants that live for multiple years

If you feel gross and like your life sucks maybe try getting a haircut

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Damn you're right. 😔

fuuuuck i just realized that the future idealized version of myself cant exist without current me being the catalyst for change and doing hard things. has anybody heard about this

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I lalalove those fics where Stone is drugged with truth serem or super tired/sick or injured and therefore delirious, and Robotnik only expects him to be extra mushy and talkative but instead! it reveals his true edgy, misanthropic thoughts. I also love writing incorrect quotes, so, My ideas following this are:

Robotnik, grumbling: "People don't deserve this level of genius."

Stone: "They don't deserve air, most days, sir."

Robotnik: "Ah, the human spirit. Fragile and pointless."

Stone (definatly smiling): "I like the sound it makes when it breaks."

Robotnik (defending his machines): "The average, blegh, person, is barely sentient. They are no rival to my babies!"

Stone: "That's generous of you, Doctor. I'd say most of them are just waiting to decompose."

While driving Stone would refer to pedestrians as "flesh obsacles"

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Word vomit for how I first imagined Sonic 4

vvvvvv

Stone really does go batshit crazy greif-driven vengeful and Sonic and his buddies realize he's way more of a danger than Eggman ever was because he's much more careful.

Maybe something really bad happens (neg. emotional climax) like Tails or Amy almost dies or something, Sonic keeps arguing with Knuckles, Tom and Maddie haven’t been getting along and its totally stressing Sonic out, so just like in the first movie he goes out running, and since he's much stronger and more experienced with his power, he accidently discovers he can time travel? Maybe just jumps a day backwards at first.

Now they have the upper hand on Stone but even that isn't enough to stop his wrath. Desperate for anything at this point, something gives them the idea or reminds them of how passive Stone was when Robotnik was around, and they realize that perhaps that Doctor wasn't all evil, becuase he was keeping this [Mad Stone] under control.

yada yada exposition Sonic shares his feelings with the group found family moment then a reappearance of Shadow! They go back in time, save Eggman just before he blows up, brings him to the future (he's kicking the whole time, thinks he's been kidnapped, Shadow does not put up with his bs) and they set him down right in front of one of Stones rampages. Que romantic music when Robotnik finally sees Stone for the Evil genius he is. They're reunited and Stone calms down long enough for Sonic to rescue his family that's been captured/incapacitated in the fight, and they leave, hoping they haven't made a huge mistake.

(they did. they unleashed the power couple)

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I am now checking the Stobotnik tag every few hours for the sweet sweet nectar of that fan content. chat am I cooked

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would you like a nice glass of

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To belong and how Robotnik understands it

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I LOVE it when my hair is wet yo. not the way that it looks but the way it FEELS. I yearn to play mermaids. I belong in waterworld as the mutants with gills. that all I have to say.

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"I want him" not sexually not romantically but a secret third way (squeaky toy)

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this one of those ones that got me sitting here like "I could be doing so many other productive things..."

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never off the clock