I’ve no idea how this app works so forgive me
If you ever have free time and need something to write, you should 100% write some Robert fight scenes. Like make bro fight dirty and the Z-team witness it (Like the bar fight scene, where bro literally bites a thumb off of a guy)
thank you so much for requesting !! despite all my years of writing i've never actually written much violence (usually i stick to emotional pain :P) so this is,,, not my best work, and its also kind of short. but i hope i did your imagination justice :)
cw violence obviously. 754 words
All they wanted was a hard earned lunch after a long morning of protecting the city.
Robert and his gaggle of misfits had walked together to a fast joint a block away from SDN headquarters. He’d promised them a meal on him if they could get through the morning without any friendly fire or unnecessary casualties, and, somehow, they pulled it off.
As they approached the counter to order, though, Robert watched as the teenage cashier’s eyes filled with fear, staring at something behind him. He turned on his heel and glared as two masked criminals barged through the front doors of the establishment, shouting orders in booming voices.
One floated about a foot off the ground, hovering on a bed of cold wind and snowflakes. The other appeared to be some sort of half-man, half-cheetah situation.
“Oh, hell no!” Sonar was yelling before Robert could react, “There’s only enough room for one cuddly motherfucker in here!” The hero tried to launch himself forward, fangs bared, but Robert blocked him with an arm across the chest.
“I’d suggest you stop, now.” Robert called to the thieves, “you’re a block from SDN headquarters and this lobby is full of heroes who are more than willing to beat the shi-”
He was interrupted by a rock-hard ball of ice that thumped his chest.
“What about you, normie? You don’t look like much of a hero to me,” the cheetah-man purred, slowly stepping closer. “What are you gonna do about it?”
Robert did not hesitate. He lunged towards the hybrid, pulling a pocket knife from his back pocket– he’d learned to carry one after being beat up in bars so often.
“Oooh, he’s got a knife! I’m scared!” the other villain summoned an icicle in his hands and launched it at the weapon, and Robert watched in shock as it clattered to the ground. He quickly drew his attention back to the man and stared straight into his solid blue eyes.
“Oh, I’ve just about had it with you motherfuckers,” Robert growled, before landing a solid punch to the man’s cold stomach and knocking him into a soda machine. Straws and lids scattered across the ground.
Sonar took the opportunity to lunge once more at the cheetah, and Robert let him. He had his eyes on new prey.
Punch-Up ran to help him, but Coupe caught the back of his shirt. He looked at her questioningly, and she simply said, “I want to see this.”
Robert was taking as many punches as he was throwing before he got the bright idea to dodge. As the villain threw a right hook, he ducked, landing another punch to the gut before bouncing back up and landing another on the nose. Prism cheered, reaching for her phone. Invisigal watched intently, and Malevola teased her for allegedly staring at his ass.
Robert paid them no mind. As the villain stumbled back, he grabbed him by the collar, swung him around and slammed him down onto a table, muttering apologies as the woman occupying the attached booth screamed and ran. Robert had him pinned against the table now, panting heavily. The villain tried to shove him away. Robert caught his hand with his teeth.
“The fuck, man?!” he screamed, tearing it away with enough effort to draw blood.
“Careful,” Flambae shouted, “he’s a biter. He’s been known to take off fingers,” he held up his own, three-fingered hand. While it was true that Robert had taken his fingers, it had not been with his teeth. He appreciated the support, though.
“Now, I’m pretty sure I can hear my friend tearing your friend apart behind me,” Robert growled, leaning in closer, dark eyes not leaving the criminal’s. “so I think it’s best you leave here before you lose any more blood.”
The villain nodded fervently, and Robert freed him. He attempted one last punch, his fist coated in ice. Robert caught his forearm, digging his nails in deep.
“I said leave.”
Finally, the villain obliged, calling out to his friend who was barely escaping Sonar’s claws. Robert watched them until they disappeared down the street. When they were gone, he turned to the Z-team, as well as the terrified patrons and staff, still panting and with blood dripping from his nose.
“Sorry about that, guys. I kinda had to take care of something.” His eyes fell on the lids and straws scattered across the floor, and the large pool of blood where Sonar had done his part.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll clean that up.”
