hello, you can call me Six, Crucifix, or whatever you’d like. I use it/he pronouns, and I am a fanfic author.
I am 21 years old and would prefer if you were 18+ if you interact with my content. I cant stop you if you aren’t, but I ask that you don’t dm me or you will be blocked.
I am pro fiction and a dead dove author. I primarily write explicit fics that cater to my own interests, but I do take requests. I want to write more fluff, as well as more plot driven fic, going forward!
my current fixation is Dispatch, specifically Sonar…
Whumpril day 3 - enemy turned caregiver (alt prompt)
Flambae checks in on Robert at his apartment when Robert doesn’t show up to work.
Word Count: 1,542
Tags: Robert Robertson | Mecha Man-centric, Robert Robertson | Mecha Man Needs a Hug, Trans Male Character, transmasculine Robert Robertson | Mecha Man, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Period Cramps, Soft Flambae | Chad (Dispatch), Domestic Fluff, Cooking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Enemies to Lovers, Post-Canon, Fluff
Robert wasn’t going to work today and, honestly, he didn’t care what Blazer had to say about it.
He’d managed to get home to bed the night before, which his mind was still reeling from, but because he’d fallen asleep so early, he ended up waking up at almost 5 in the morning, unable to fall back asleep because of the pain. So, he laid in bed, scrolling his phone.
He told himself that he would do something productive today- go out, get some air, maybe take a walk- but it was clear after a day of curling up in bed, on and off crying, and scrolling through social media with only the occasional break to take painkillers and make sure he wasn’t bleeding everywhere that he wasn’t doing anything of the sort.
Honestly, the only reason he was able to drag himself to his living room today (if you can even call it that, it’s a room with lamps and a dog bed), was to feed Beef. After that, he was right back to curling up in pain, trying to pretend like he didn’t feel like his guts were ripping out of his body no matter how many painkillers he took. It may be a shitty, miserable day, but it was his and his alone.
That is, it was. Until he heard a loud knock at the door.
He took a breath. It was probably just a neighbor, or his landlord… maybe a maintenance worker coming to take a look at his busted air conditioner. Whatever it was, he had no interest in answering it at the moment, so he listened to Beef bark at the knocking while staying silent in his room, waiting for whoever was at his door to decide he wasn’t there and leave a note for later.
Of course that didn’t happen. Why would Robert get such peace?
He could hear a voice outside the door, but not who it was or what they were saying. Just that it was a man, or at least someone with a very deep voice, banging on his door and calling for him.
Then, his eyes widened as he heard the sound of his door unlocking. He jumped up, wincing in pain as he did so, quickly opening the door to his sad bedroom just to see Flambae standing in his even sadder living room, in full hero attire, casually petting Beef like he hadn’t just committed a crime by breaking into Robert’s apartment.
Before Robert could open his mouth to speak, he was already talking. “I knew you were in here! Knew you wouldn’t go anywhere without your yappy little dog,” he spoke casually, like him being here was the most normal thing in the world.
Robert took a breath. “Chad. How did you get into my apartment?” he asked, brows furrowing.
“You gave me a key,” Flambae replied casually.
“No,” Robert spoke calmly, though his voice was clearly alarmed to an extent, “no, I didn’t.”
“Okay, well, I stole it. I don’t know why you wanna hear, Bob-bob,” Chad laughed deeply, finally standing up to face Robert. His frame towered over him, making him feel weirdly insecure- the fact that he was in a band shirt from high school and distressed pajama pants certainly wasn’t helping.
“I don’t want to hear that you stole my house key, that’s for sure-“
“Well, I had to get you to bed last night somehow,” Flambae shrugged, “You didn’t seem to mind too much then.”
“I didn’t- I was- but-“ Robert stammered. As he tried to get his thoughts out, another strike of pain hit him and he clutched his stomach like he’d just been hit by a baseball bat. “I’m kinda busy, man.”
“Busy with what, exactly? Being in pain?” Flambae asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Look, man- why are you here? I just want to go back to wallowing in pain, mkay?”
“I’m here,” Chad scoffed and rolled his eyes, “to check on you, you fucking idiot. And thank god I did, you look like shit.”
“Thanks,” Robert snarked.
“You know what I mean!” Flambae huffed, “Like, do you need anything? Food, warmth? The thought of you rotting in here, alone, just feeling bad, is…” Flambae shivered.
“I’m glad you think my life is so sad, thanks,” Robert replied sarcastically, to which Flambae sighed again.
“Do you hear yourself? What is your fucking problem? Why are you so determined to feel bad? Have you even eaten today? Drank water? Showered?” Flambae asked, sparks of irritation coming off his fingers and startling Beef. Robert blinked, then sighed in a mix of acceptance and defeat.
“I mean… no, not really. I fed Beef, but I don’t have anything worth cooking for myself.”
Flambae raised an eyebrow. “Not even, like, instant rice? Ramen??” Robert just shook his head. Flambae sighed, his face falling. “You stay here. I’m gonna go get groceries.”
“Where would I even- what do you mean you’re gonna go get groceries??”
“I mean what I said,” Flambae shrugged, “I’m going to go get groceries so I can cook. You need to eat something.”
Robert’s mind was reeling. He stammered, trying to get one of his several questions out, but it was too late. Chad was gone. A part of Robert thought that the ex-villain was just messing with him- that he wasn’t going to return with food of any sort. Honestly, Robert didn’t know what he would prefer; the idea of Chad doing favors for him, going and getting food and cooking it, did make his heart flutter in a weird way.
He blamed it on the pain.
Honestly, Flambae just fucking with him would be the easy answer. But nothing was ever easy for Robert- so of course Chad was back with shopping bags full of food. Of course Chad was in his kitchen cooking something that smelled better than anything he had ever made in that kitchen. Of course, this stupid, sexy, perfect man had to be standing in his apartment in one of the worst weeks of Robert’s life, insisting that he get to take care of him while Robert sits in his sad plastic lawn chair.
Despite his hesitations, Robert didn’t push back. Why would he? How could he? Especially when he got no say in it in the first place. Flambae had just showed up and started cooking, what was Robert supposed to do about that?
Robert was snapped out of his thoughts by Flambae standing in front of him, offering him a plate of delicious-smelling rice and meat. “Here. Eat,” he said simply as Robert took the plate. Robert hesitated- not because of the food, but because of the way Flambae stood over him with his arms crossed, watching him like an eagle. He blinked up at the taller man, then back down to the plate of food. Wordlessly, he scooped up a fork full, shoving it into his mouth.
It was delicious.
He shoved another bite in his mouth. Then another, and another. “Holy shit- Flambae, this is incredible!” He commented between bites, “I didn’t know you could cook! What is this? It’s so good!”
Flambae cracked a grin from where he stood, finally looking away from Robert. Robert swore he could see a hint of blush on his face, but he told himself that Flambae’s face was probably just flushed from the heat of the kitchen. “First of all,” he started, “fuck you?? What makes you think I can’t cook?? Second of all… I’m glad you like it. It’s kabuli pulao- I always make it when I’m sick. I know you’re not sick, but…”
“No, no,” Robert insisted, watching Flambae’s face as his voice trailed off. “It’s.. it’s perfect, thank you.”
“Of course it is,” Flambae replied quickly, flipping his hair over his shoulders and placing his hands square on his hips. “I’m fucking incredible. Now, let me put the leftovers in your fridge and pack you a plate.”
Robert nodded, mouth too full of rice and spiced lamb to reply properly. The two of them ate together in near silence, but the food was certainly helping Robert. Not only did having something in his stomach help the cramps, the food was also just so good he wasn’t thinking about the pain. It was so good, in fact, that much to Chad’s teasing, Robert got himself a second plate full.
“Well,” Chad spoke up eventually after the two had been done eating for some time. “I’ll let you get back to your ‘very busy’ day. I just wanted to make sure you were… okay.”
“Y-yeah,” Robert stammered, “thanks.” Flambae looked like he was going to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned around and started to leave. “Wait!” Robert called out. Flambae turned around, silently raising an eyebrow. “Can you… do the warm thing again..?”
Flambae cracked a toothy grin. “Of course I can.”
The night ended with Robert on his mattress, drifting off to sleep as Flambae held his hands over Robert’s lower stomach, gently warming him up, holding him close. It was the best Robert had ever felt.
But nothing good ever lasted. Of course, in the morning, he was gone, and Robert was left again with that cold, sharp pain.
Sonar makes a mistake. A dumb, stupid mistake that Robert has to pay for.
Word Count: 319
Tags: Sonar | Victor Needs a Hug (Dispatch), Sonar | Victor-centric (Dispatch), Whump, Blood and Injury, Hospitals
Sonar didn’t know what happened.
The fight was a blur. Things were exploding, and it was loud- so loud that the Bat hybrid, especially in his monster form, couldn’t tell up from down.
It was bright, colors flashing across his blurry vision. Blue metal and red fire, then black smog against the cyan sky. A punch blew across his face and he fell hard. He slashed at the attacker, but got spun around again by a loud car alarm. Then, his vision was blinded by the bright, yellow sun. In a haze, he dug his fangs into the next living thing he saw.
And then there was blood.
So much crimson red blood, it was all he could see. Screams filled his ears. He didn’t even understand what happened until much, much later.
—————
Sonar stood over Robert’s body at the hospital. He was breathing, thank god, but he wasn’t awake. The doctors said it could be days before he actually wakes up- and, to make the days of waiting worse, Sonar had been suspended from dispatch work for the time being.
Sonar had never been one to feel guilty- the way he saw it, what was done was done, and there was no point worrying about past mistakes. So, why did he feel so bad? Why did the blood-soaked bandages that covered the deep fang marks, holding his dislocated shoulder in place, make Sonar feel so bad?
He trembled as he looked over Robert on that bed. He blinked. His face was wet. He was crying? A hand reached up and felt his fur near his eyes, needing to verify. He was crying. He hadn’t cried since he graduated, and now he was crying. Over Robert.
“Please wake up soon,” he whispered as he took Robert’s frail hand in his own, “I know it’s selfish, but I don’t know what to do without you, so, please… please wake up…”
I haven't seen one of these posts to reblog lately so
✨time for some spring cleaning ✨
1: don't send terf shit to in my inbox, send me pictures of your pets instead
2: if you're concerned about "people supporting pedophiles," call your representatives and ask them why those listed in the Epstein Files haven't been prosecuted yet :)
3: if any of the above statements (drawn and typed) decrease your opinion of me, idgaf, bye
Robert has endometriosis (and other issues) that give him horrible, debilitating period cramps. Blonde Blazer doesn’t get it, but Flambae is shockingly sympathetic.
Word Count: 1,033
Tags: Robert Robertson | Mecha Man-centric, Robert Robertson | Mecha Man Needs a Hug, Trans Male Character, transmasculine Robert Robertson | Mecha Man, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Period Cramps, Blonde Blazer salt (Do we still tag character salt. Is that even a thing anymore), Soft Flambae | Chad (Dispatch)
Robert woke up at 5:40 AM to a splitting, stabbing pain in his stomach. Half asleep and running on fumes, he jumped out of bed in a panic, believing that he was attacked in his sleep. The deep puddle of crimson blood on his sheets and skin certainly would suggest a nighttime stabbing, but he quickly realized he had no such injury.
…oh.
Suddenly, Robert knew exactly what was causing his pain- and he was pissed off about it. The good thing about being a scarily skinny trans guy with hormone issues is that Robert only got his period every few months. The bad thing was that it lasted too long, bled too much, and hurt like hell.
There was no point in going back to bed, so Robert didn’t try. He collected his bloody bedding and threw it in the wash with his clothes, electing to just start the day early- and he was glad he did, considering his normally 5 minute shower lasted almost an hour before he felt really clean, biting back tears of pain the entire time. At least he could crank his shower up to be extremely hot- that helped for all of 20 minutes before he’d run out of hot water.
He was quick to pop painkillers after the shower. An extra strength ibuprofen or two usually helped for a bit.
—————
It wasn’t lunch yet when Robert found that the painkillers had worn off.
It felt like he was being stabbed in the stomach by a long blade that dug down from his naval to his mons, causing him to gasp and clutch his stomach. He hadn’t wanted to make a big deal out of it, but of course Blazer was walking by his cubicle just as he groaned out in pain.
“Shit, Robert-!” She called out, immediately rushing to his side. Robert felt his face flush with embarrassment. “What happened?”
“I… think I need to go home,” Robert managed, still clutching his stomach like his organs were spilling out. “Period.”
A silence hung in the air for a moment before Blazer replied.
“…I mean, yeah, periods suck,” the blonde agreed, rubbing Robert’s back comfortingly. “…But come on man, it’s not that bad. I mean, I’m sure you’ve been through worse,” she added, trying to comfort him.
It didn’t help.
Robert wanted to tell her off, to tell her that she had no right to tell him how much pain he was in, but he figured it would be a waste of what little energy he had. Instead, his lips pursed into a thin smile as he reached for the Tylenol on his desk, popping back 4 or 5 pills despite Blazer’s comments about the harm to his liver (like the drinking wouldn’t get there first).
—————
“You look like shit,” Chad’s voice echoed from behind Robert, making him jump. The quick action, of course, made Robert’s guts feel like they were being pulled apart, savagely ripped out of his body, and mutilated.
Robert hardly flinched at the pain, just squinting and holding his stomach tight. “Thanks,” he replied, sighing as he spun around in his office chair to look up at Flambae. “What do you want? Or are you just here to make fun of me?”
Chad shrugged. “I was leaving, actually. Just wanted to know if you needed a ride.”
“A ride?” Robert repeated, eyes flicking out the window. Shit, the sun had set on him without him even realizing- it wasn’t the first time this happened, but Robert did hope, foolishly, that it would be the last. “I’ll walk,” he decided after a moment, “My stomach hurts too bad to fly.”
“Your fucking stomach? Mecha-bitch can’t handle a tummy ache? Come the fuck on, Bob-bob.”
Robert couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. Even when Flambae was trying to be mean, it was still somehow more endearing than Blazer trying to be nice. Maybe it was because he could tell that the other man didn’t really mean it- he hadn’t ment it in a long time.
“Okay, first of all, fuck you?? Second of all, it’s not a tummy ache. I have- I have these god awful cramps. Like, they’re fucking hell. And I know, I know- cramps aren’t that big of an issue and I’m just being a little bitch, but…” Robert’s voice trailed off as he felt liquid dripping down his neck. Fuck, was he crying? He reached a hand up to wipe his face and- yep, apparently the waterworks had turned on at some point during his explanation.
Flambae stood there with a surprised expression, not sure what to do. He hadn’t seen Robert cry before- not like this, at least. “I… wasn’t going to say that,” He managed after several seconds of dumbfounded silence. “I… was going to ask if I could do anything.”
Robert blinked in surprise. “I- yeah?” He asked, tilting his head, “like what?”
“Like… um…” Flambae stepped closer, kneeling down to be at Robert’s level. He hesitated, clearly thinking out his next moves carefully. He began to reach out to Robert’s stomach before hesitating. “Can I?” He asked with a softness that surprised Robert- but he was always softer after hours when no one was around to see. Robert nodded, and Chad continued to wordlessly place his hot hands over Robert’s shirt, warmth instantly relieving some of the pain like a heating pad.
The noise Robert made was guttural, a deep whine from the back of his throat as he, for the first time since waking up, didn’t feel like he was being hit in the stomach with a baseball bat. He could’ve cried from relief.
Watching his reaction, Flambae continued, slowly increasing the temperature of his palms and eventually even lifting up Robert’s shirt to place his warm hands directly on Robert’s skin.
As weird as this was- as much as Robert wanted to be afraid that Flambae would just incinerate him here and now- Robert found himself relaxing harder and harder into the touch, feeling his pain and the worries that came with it slowly fade away into a murmuring background noise.
When he woke up in bed, he didn’t remember falling asleep.
This may come off as a vent, but that’s not the intention
Do any other writers procrastinate writing because you feel like you don’t deserve to write? Like I have so many ideas in my head that I want to write!! But my brain just says “no”
I need tiktokers to understand that ao3 has been home for the freaks (affectionate) ever since the day it was created. the entire site was created because “dark and fucked up fics” were banned and removed from other platforms, so us freaks came together and created a site for other freaks — a site where nothing is censored, a site with no algorithm, no capitalism, no ads, and again, absolutely no censorship.
this has been our house for decades. you newbies don’t come into our house and tell us how to arrange our furniture. either be nice and respect our house, or leave and build your own house elsewhere.
