☆ I can go by quite a few names ! Autumn, Romeo, Goose, Hyper, Achilles, or Tea are the ones I’ve acquired over the years.
☆ I’m 19, and a Libra!
☆ I use they/he/she pronouns (in that order)
☆ I collect labels like they’re pokemon. Im on the aroace spectrum, and im bisexual and panromantic.
☆ I love crafty things and keeping my hands busy- embroidery, paint by numbers, logic games, diamond arts, things along those lines. Also love any kind of colorful things, and my current interests lie within the COD fandom (it’s been years. Help)
Read on for my other blogs and boundaries
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── What is this blog?
☆ Honestly this is just my main blog where I reblog a bunch of stuff. A lot of the times it’s COD, but you might see me reblogging... ➸
☆ Fandoms appearing/will appear on this blog: COD, Good Omens, a variety of animes, House MD, Hannibal, Dungeon Meshi, Franz Kafka, Marvel, ATSV, FNAF (SB mostly), Weezer, etc.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── Other Blogs!
My poetry / random writing blog:
@duckormaybegoose
My COD drabbles blog:
@gooseormaybeduck
My dividers/banners blog:
@duckandtotallygoose
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── Boundaries
☆ Might be needless to say, but don't bother me if you're homophobic, transphobic, racist, zionist, or any hate on any other groups because of ignorance. I will block and move on with my life, because you are not worth my time.
☆ Minors please do not interact. I am 18, so this blog is 18+. I WILL BLOCK YOU immediately if you're anything but 18 and above.
☆ I love answering questions and simply talking, so feel free to slide into my DMs to just say hey! I will be blocking people who attempt to make weird or creepy advances though- go find another person for that!
☆ if you're sending links in my inbox, please state what they are! I'm not clicking on random links lmao
☆ HERE IS YOUR WARNING: I do have dark and mature content on my blogs, I will block you if you come at me for that. It is fiction and nothing more, it's really not that deep. I'm not going to stop. I do my best to tag any triggers and dark fits, but please let me know if I should add any others that's unlisted
Screenshot this user because they keep reuploading art that isn’t their own. Pls report them if you’re the original owner of any of the works they have up.
I’m hoping this gets enough reblogs to help the artists find their work bc I don’t recognize all of them, but if you recognize an artist pls send it to them!
Editing to say I found all the artists but their first post
tyrant 𖦹⸝⸝ ⋆˚₊⋆✶ | “i got that exotic, hips are so hypnotic.”
teacher!ryland x office siren!teacher!fem!reader
—strangers to friends, to a little more than friends.
THE first thing ryland notices about you is that you don’t belong in a school. that sounds rude, but he doesn’t mean it rudely. he means that the rest of the faculty look like teachers. comfortable cardigans, sensible shoes, coffee stains, and stress.
you look like somebody accidentally took a wrong turn on the way to a magazine photoshoot and somehow ended up teaching english literature, or history, or art.
honestly ryland doesn’t know what you teach for the first week because every time he sees you his brain experiences a temporary power outage. which is particularly embarrassing because he’s supposed to be a science teacher.
science requires thinking, and thinking becomes difficult around you.
the first time he sees you is during a faculty meeting. he arrives just a minute late, which isn’t unusual. he’s carrying three folders, a coffee, several worksheets and what appears to be a small dinosaur skeleton. the skeleton is unrelated …probably.
he’s halfway through apologising for being late when he notices you sitting across the room, and immediately walks directly into a chair. hard.
the room goes silent while ryland nearly drops everything. the coffee survives, but his dignity does not.
you immediately stand and rush over to him, grabbing his coffee and folders, “are you okay?” you ask, you sound genuinely concerned.
meanwhile ryland is staring at the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen while actively recovering from blunt force trauma.
“i’m .. fine.”
he is not fine. he hasn’t been fine since approximately three seconds ago.
afterwards he learns your name, which turns out to be a terrible mistake because now he has something specific to think about. before, you were just attractive mystery teacher, now you’re attractive mystery teacher with a name.
a laugh, a classroom, a favourite coffee order, all information he acquires entirely by accident.
probably.
the problem is that you’re friendly. overly friendly. the sort of person who remembers everybody’s name within two weeks. the sort of person who says good morning to custodians.
the sort of person who asks people how they’re doing and genuinely waits for the answer. which means you treat ryland exactly the same way.
and unfortunately that makes everything worse.
had you been intimidating, he would’ve had a reason to keep his distance. had you been rude, he would’ve had a reason to hate you. but you’re sweet, and genuinely nice to everyone.
every morning starts the same way, “morning, ryland.” you smile, and ryland forgets approximately twenty nine years of human interaction. “morning.” then he spends the next ten minutes wondering whether that response sounded normal. it never does.
the rest of the staff notice immediately, because of course they do. teachers are basically professional gossipers. give them enough coffee and they’ll develop surveillance capabilities.
the hot history teacher and the nerdy science teacher? come on.
they notice that ryland somehow appears wherever you are. definitely not intentionally, at least not consciously. he’s just … always nearby.
if you’re in the staff room, ryland eventually appears. if you’re supervising lunch duty, ryland somehow ends up assigned nearby. if you’re walking through the corridor, ryland suddenly remembers he has somewhere to be in that exact direction.
he doesn’t realise he’s doing it, but everybody else does. meanwhile you’re completely oblivious. which somehow makes the situation funnier.
the thing that really destroys him is your wardrobe, not because you are dressing inappropriately. no where near. you’re a teacher, you dress professionally.
the problem is that you’re one of those people who could wear a paper bag and somehow make it look expensive. every outfit is immaculate. tailored trousers, elegant blouses, fitted skirts, heels clicking softly against the floor, jewellery, perfect hair. the whole thing feels deeply unfair.
one monday morning you arrive wearing a white button up blouse, a fitted, black knee length skirt, black tights and heels. simple. professional. completely acceptable workplace attire. ryland sees you crossing the car park, then walks into a recycling bin for the second time that week.
his students start noticing too, which is arguably worse.
“mr grace?”
“yes?”
“are you listening?”
he looks up, the entire classroom is staring. “uh.. of course.”
a student points towards the window, you happen to be walking across the courtyard. the class collectively groans. “guys, it’s his teacher crush again.” ryland immediately chokes on air.
“i don’t have a crush!” he quickly says, fixing his glasses, but his kids looking at each other like they can’t believe a word he says. “yeah, yeah, whatever.” one students rolls his eyes, they never let him recover.
the worst part is that you accidentally make everything harder because you’re tactile. not excessively, just naturally. if you’re laughing, you’ll touch somebody’s arm. if you’re thanking somebody, you’ll squeeze their shoulder. normal behaviour that’s perfectly innocent. except every time you touch ryland, he experiences complete system failure.
one afternoon you stop by his classroom to return a book. he’s sitting at his desk grading papers. you walk over, lean down slightly to place the book beside him, and then lightly touch his shoulder.
“thanks again.” you smile, gently squeezing his shoulder before you leave.
ryland spends five minutes staring at the wall, before one of his students walks in.
“you okay?”
“absolutely.”
he is visibly not okay.
the real problem is that you genuinely like him, not romantically, not yet. you just enjoy his company. because ryland is funny, he doesn’t mean to be, but he is. he gets excited about random facts, he tells stories with his entire body, he’ll start explaining something simple and somehow end up drawing diagrams on napkins. you find him charming, adorable even, so naturally you seek him out.
you sit beside him during staff meetings, you save him seats, you bring him coffee when you’re already making a run, you stop by his classroom, you ask about his day, all completely innocent, all absolutely devastating.
there’s one afternoon where you accidentally corner him in the staff room, not literally, you just start talking, asking about one of his science projects.
ryland launches into an explanation, because of course he does. suddenly he’s describing bacteria, then ecosystems, then space, then trees, then space again. twenty minutes later he’s still talking. you haven’t left. that’s the thing that gets him. most people leave, politely excusing themselves. you don’t.
you’re still standing there listening, smiling, asking questions, actually interested.
and for a moment ryland forgets you’re beautiful, which sounds strange, but it’s true, because he’s just enjoying the conversation, enjoying being around you. enjoying the fact that somebody genuinely wants to hear what he has to say.
that’s when the crush becomes hazardous, because attraction is one thing. attraction passes. liking somebody? that’s a problem.
soon he’s looking forward to seeing you, looking for your car in the morning, checking whether your classroom lights are on, saving funny stories to tell you later, finding reasons to stop by your room.
he becomes that man, the man with a crush. everybody knows, literally everybody. the principal knows, the office staff knows, the janitors know, half the student body probably knows.
you remain completely unaware. until one afternoon, school has ended. the corridors are quiet, most people have gone home. you’re struggling to carry several boxes of supplies back to your classroom, before you can even properly lift them, a familiar voice appears behind you.
“here.”
ryland is already taking half the boxes. “you didn’t have to do that.”
“i know.” he smiles a small, nervous, yet still warm smile, glasses a little crooked. “i wanted to.” and something about the way he says it makes you pause, because suddenly you’re noticing things. the way he looks without his usual blazers, biceps flexing under his polo shirt. just how bright his blue eyes are, how cute his slightly messy hair looks.
the way he always helps, the way he’s always around, the way his face brightens whenever he sees you, the way he listens, the way he remembers things, the way he never makes you feel like too much. for months you’d thought ryland was simply kind, then you realise. yes, he is kind. but maybe that’s not the whole story.
and as you walk beside him through the empty corridor, listening to him ramble about something scientific while carrying your boxes, you find yourself smiling.
because for the first time, you begin wondering whether the sweet, awkward science teacher with the hopeless crush might not be the only one falling.
that then become his things, helping you carry anything regardless of its weight. could be your bag, your coffee, books, anything. on a different day, he was helping you carry more boxes to your classroom.
“are you sure these aren’t too heavy?” you ask as you glanced over as the two of you walked down the corridor.
it was late afternoon. classes had finished for the day. the building was quiet except for the occasional distant sound of somebody locking up a classroom.
ryland adjusted the stack of boxes in his arms. “no, these are fine.” which was true, they were reasonably heavy, but he was strong. he was absolutely willing to suffer minor spinal damage if it meant spending another ten minutes talking to you.
you looked impressed, which should have been harmless, should have. instead you tilted your head slightly and smiled. that smile. the one that always made him forget basic english.
“oh, wow, mr grace.”
ryland immediately knew he was in danger, “what?”
you glanced at the boxes, then at him, then back at the boxes. “you’re so strong.” his foot caught on absolutely nothing, he stumbled, then barely recovered.
you bit your lip, clearly trying not to laugh. “you okay?”
“yep.” his voice cracked. fantastic. he hoped the earth would open beneath him, you somehow looked even more delighted.
“that’s impressive.”
“what is?”
“carrying all those.” you gestured towards the boxes. “i would’ve thought a science teacher would’ve spent all day reading books and looking at lesson plans.”
ryland laughed nervously. “that’s not really—”
“look at those muscles.”
he nearly dropped everything. “what?”
“i’m just saying,” your eyes travelled over his arms for a second, far too casually. “i didn’t know we had superman on staff.” ryland stopped walking entirely, and the boxes shifted, he adjusted them quickly. his face felt approximately six thousand degrees. you were definitely enjoying this. he could tell.
you looked completely innocent, like you had no idea what you were doing, which was a lie, you knew exactly what you were doing.
“you know,” you continued thoughtfully, “i should probably ask for your help more often.”
“why?”
“well.” you smiled. “it’s nice having a handsome man carry things for me.”
there was a very long silence, ryland stared ahead, the corridor blurred slightly. he wasn’t sure if that was medically concerning. “handsome?” he repeated weakly.
you blinked. “well, yes.” like it was obvious. like everybody on earth agreed. “you didn’t know?”
ryland was completely flustered, “i—”
“oh no.” your hand flew dramatically to your chest. “have i accidentally revealed groundbreaking information?”
he couldn’t even look at you, which only made it worse because now you were laughing. not cruelly, just fondly. his reactions were your favourite thing in the world. “you’re blushing.”
“i’m not!”
“you absolutely are.”
“it’s warm!”
you looked around the empty corridor. “it’s november.”
“well,” he cleared his throat. “people run at different temperatures.” you laughed so hard you had to lean against the wall. that made things worse, because ryland loved making you laugh. which meant every embarrassing moment became a horrible cycle, you teased him, he got flustered, you laughed, he fell even more in love.
it was a deeply unsustainable system, the two of you resumed walking. you were still smiling, ryland was still trying to recover, he was failing.
“for what it’s worth,” your voice was softer now, he glanced over, you were looking at him, really looking at him, and suddenly he couldn’t remember what you’d been talking about. “i mean it.”
“mean what?”
“the handsome thing.”
oh.
oh no.
there it was again.
that smile. the one that made him feel sixteen years old.
the one that completely dismantled every functioning thought in his head.
you shrugged. “you’re cute.” ryland almost walked directly into a classroom door. you physically grabbed his arm before he could. “careful there, mr grace.” he looked down at your hand, then at you. then immediately away again, because he was blushing so hard.
of course you noticed.
your smile softened, the teasing disappeared slightly, replaced by something gentler. “you’re adorable.”
“please stop.”
you laughed, “why?”
“because!” he adjusted the boxes again, desperately trying to focus on literally anything else. “you keep saying things.”
“what kind of things?”
“those kinds of things.”
“compliments?”
he groaned, and you laughed again, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. and despite the fact that he was currently experiencing the most intense embarrassment of his life, ryland found himself smiling too.
this was the problem, you could tease him mercilessly, make him blush, make him stumble over his words, make him forget how sentences worked, and somehow he’d still happily carry every box in the school if it meant spending another afternoon walking beside you.
when you finally reached your classroom, he set the supplies down on one of the desks with a relieved sigh. “there.”
“thank you.”
“you’re welcome.”
for a moment neither of you moved, the late afternoon sunlight spilled through the classroom windows.
everything felt strangely quiet.
you stepped closer, just slightly. enough that ryland immediately forgot how breathing worked again. “you know,” your voice was softer now. “i think it’s cute.”
“what is?”
“how flustered you get.”
ryland closed his eyes briefly, as if that might somehow help. it did not. when he opened them again, you were smiling at him. fond and beautiful.
“i really have to stop helping you carry things.”
you grinned, “you say that now.”
“i mean it.”
“sure you do.”
“i do.”
“see you tomorrow, ryland.”
he stared at you for a second, completely defeated, then smiled despite himself.
“yeah,” his voice came out softer than intended. “see you tomorrow.” and the worst part was that the second he left the room, he was smiling like an idiot, cheeks as red as ripe cherries. he’s already looking forward to tomorrow.
already feel like deleting this LMAOOO ive never posted anything like this and it feels so weird and new but flambert took over me 💔 hoping to whoevers up there that ppl i know irl wont find this hsgsheb
He mentions his grandma calls him hermie/ hermy, right? So in this au, where he’s trans, obviously she supports him and uses his name that he prefers- including the cute little pet name. It’s adorable. Awesome.
And we don’t really get much of an explanation for why his parents aren’t in the picture- but I think it’s fun to think that maybe they were really, really transphobic. Obviously not very fun- but hc interesting. So the reason he moved in with his grandmother and never talks about his parents is bc he’s tried his damndest to cut them out of his life.
A big part of his stutter could also be from his parents. Either just… not believing him, or being mean to him, or punishing him for talking- growing up in a house where you’re walking on eggshells, it’s super easy to develop those kinds of confidence issues.
Takes place after Shroud. Roberts been working with the Z-team for a couple of years now
So Robert is comfortable with his sexuality. He's liked women all his life. But he has zero problem flirting with dudes.
It's just friendly banter.
Flambae has become his biggest target.
Flambae and him argue just as much as they flirt. Sometimes they flirt well arguing, and vise versa.
Flambae knows Roberts straight, they're both aware that this is just some friendly back and forth between buddies.
That doesn't stop Flambae from shooting his shot every now and again, especially on drunken nights when the team goes drinking.
It's always a no, and it always ends with them laughing about it and eye fucking each other for a bit.
It was very rare that Flambae ever got salty about the rejection.
There were only a handful of times where Flambae got bitter about it, made some kind of snide comment about getting led on, or just grumbled and sulked off for the rest of the night.
On one occasion Flambae just let out a loud "What the fuck!" Followed by a confrontation about Robert always flirting with him but not doing anything.
He's more than positive that all of those negative instances happened during Flambaes dry spells. And the WTF one Flambae had been very wasted.
Still, Robert was HR perfect after that instance for a month. It got to the point where Flambae actually apologized for it, admitted that he hadn't gotten laid in a while, and begged Robert to just go back to acting normal.
It was just part of their weird little friendship.
Robert isn't exactly phased about a Z-team member trying to get in his pants, getting rejected and still being friends and flirty.
It's this groups weird fucked up love language.
Tonight was different though.
The team was at the bar, getting wasted on a Friday night.
Robert looked around the room and couldn't spot a single person that he wasn't comfortable with or fond of. Except of course the few strangers that were also in the bar but they were unimportant.
Robert was drinking, probably more than he should of. As the years went on the team slowed down on getting shitfaced, now going to the bar was more for quality bonding time.
But tonight Robert just wanted to enjoy himself, and Flambae was matching his pace so it's not like he was the only one getting wasted.
The two of them were beyond buzzed.
They had to lean against the bar to prevent themselves from swaying on their feet.
Flambae wrapped a warm arm around Roberts waist, and Robert leaned into his side, already knowing where this was going.
Flambae leaned down to talk in Roberts ear, his scruff catching against Roberts skin anytime he accidentally lost his balance and leaned more into Robert. The two were holding each other up at this point more than the bar was.
"You should come home with me. I got like, the best food, and we can share the bed. God knows your back could use a better mattress.."
Flambae slurred. His free hand coming up to play with Roberts hair.
Usually Robert would get annoyed and push his hand away, but he didn't overly mind it right now.
"Yooou're tryin' to fuck me."
Roberts words were equally as slurred. He didn't even try to defend his mattress that he was bullied into buying.
"No. No.. ... Okay maybe a little bit."
Flambae rested his chin on top of Roberts head, eyes barely open.
"But we could also like, just watch a movie and cuddle. And maybe touch your dick a bit."
Robert laughed and just nodded.
"Okay."
Flambae started laughing too for a minute. But then he slowed to a stop. For a few seconds it felt like he was buffering.
"What?"
"I said okay."
Robert repeated without much thought.
"Okay?"
Flambae still seemed confused, and Robert just repeated himself again, nodding along, causing Flambaes chin to slip off
"Yeah, okay."
They just stood there, leaning against each other. Robert was just enjoying Flambaes warmth, well Flambae seemed to still be buffering.
Suddenly he was grabbing Roberts arm and urgently leading him out the bar, then Robert was practically being dragged with how fast Flambae was trying to get back to his own apartment.
The cool night air and all the jogging helped sober them both up some.
"Almost there. Still okay?"
Flambae was acting like this was a life or death emergency with how fast he was trying to get back to his apartment.
Robert could only laugh.
"Yeah. Still okay."
Flambae started laughing too.
Once they made it inside the apartment building is when reality of what he agreed to really struck Robert.
But he couldn't really find a reason to turn Flambae down tonight.
Why say no? Because he's straight? Sure he's not into dudes but it's not like he's repulsed by them. They have all the same parts that he has after all.
And you only live once right?
He could do a lot worse than Flambae, if he's gonna do it with a dude he might as well do it with a hot one.
He was comfortable with Flambae.
He doesn't even think this will actually effect their friendship.
They probably won't even go all the way, share a handy at most. Which isn't even that gay if you think about it.
When they got in the apartment, Flambae froze up again. Robert waited a moment but Flambae just wasn't loading.
Maybe he didn't actually want this? Maybe Flambae just like flirting and chasing, and is just realizing he doesn't actually want to screw Robert.
Fair enough.
"Hey, we don't have to do this if you don't want to. We can just watch Tv, or I could leave-"
Robert was looking away, rubbing the back of his head when suddenly Flambae came back to the land of the living.
"Are you kidding me?? I'm just trying to figure out where to start!"
Okay. Maybe they did end up going all the way.
Robert woke up, wrapped in a warm pair of arms with soft muscles cushioning him. It's probably the most comfortable he's ever been.
Flambae lulled him back to sleep.
Robert could sleep in. It's the weekend after all.
When he woke up the second time it was to a beautifully made breakfast in bed.
Flambae ate next to him. And anytime Robert tried to bring up last night, Flambae would just boast about how great it was.
And Robert couldn't really disagree.. it surprisingly was great? Which just confused him because.. Robert doesn't like guys? He's never liked guys before? Or at least, he didn't think he did.
Then Flambae insisted on rubbing oil on him and massaging him. Claiming it as aftercare, Flambae boasting about how he's a caring lover so of course the aftercare was necessary, especially considering it was Roberts first time with a guy.
Robert ended up letting him. His body felt like jello afterwards. He just laid in bed for what felt like a few hours before trying to get up.
When Robert said he should go home, Flambae mentioned that they hadn't tried a few things, and if this is just a one time thing for Robert then he really should get his money's worth.
Which.. yeah.. that made sense to Robert.
So they went at it again.
Roberts legs felt like rubber. He was leaned up against Flambaes chest, completely limp.
Flambae had put some mind numbing tv on. Robert just stared at the screen. He doesn't even remember when he fell asleep.
When he woke up again, Flambae had made a mouth watering dinner.
Robert really should go pick up Beef from Chase but.. he could have dinner first.
Flambae offered to drive him to get beef and drop him off at home.
But it was late.. Beef and Chase were probably asleep by now anyways.. maybe he could just sleep over one more night.
Flambae didn't seem to mind.
He leant Robert clothes and snuggled up in bed with him.
Reality struck.
1.) he's not as straight as he thought he was
2.) if he had actually wanted to leave he would've done so by now. No amount of food or body massages would have actually stopped him.
3.) he kind of doesn't want this to just be a one time thing..
Since when did he fall for Flambae..?
Author: This was just supposed to be a fic prompt/idea but I feel like I've wrote a whole fic T~T
I might do a more detailed version on AO3 eventually.
Also I love writing Flambae trying to lock Robert down. But I'm pretty sure Flambae would probably want to be the one getting locked down.
Guess who's got a new Dispatch AU idea that I've literally just been calling 'Feral Robert AU'!
Basically the premise is that, when Shroud kills Robbie, he doesn’t just take him out. He gets the Astral Pulse and the Mecha Man suit. Robert never gets either. There is no Mecha Man Blue in this universe, no inheriting the suit, no getting to carry on his father’s legacy, no tragic hero path where he still has that armor between himself and the world. Shroud takes the Astral Pulse and uses it to turn himself and the Red Ring into an absolute nightmare in LA, building stronger power sources, better weapons, and eventually augments that can strip people of their free will.
As for the suit, Shroud doesn’t wear it. He tore it apart for scraps years ago. The only piece he kept intact was the helmet, because of course he did. Just Robbie’s helmet kept like a fucked up trophy. So Robert doesn’t even get the comfort of knowing his father’s work is out there somewhere waiting to be reclaimed. It was gutted. Used. Repurposed. The face was kept.
And since Robert never becomes Mecha Man, he becomes something much worse.
He fakes his death, ditches being Robert Robertson, and starts going by Blue when he’s out and about. Not as a vigilante name, just as the name he uses because Robert is supposed to be dead and staying dead is the only thing keeping Shroud from coming after him directly. He’s 16 when all of this starts, and for the next 15 years he turns himself into this awful little urban legend in the Red Ring’s walls.
He never gives himself a name, but people start calling him Stray, and he just kind of accepts it because whatever, names are tools. The Red Ring starts talking about him like a bad omen. There’s a stray in the vents. The Stray hit another shipment. Don’t leave that access point open, that’s how the Stray got in last time.
He’s not a clean heroic vigilante either. He’s leaner and fitter than canon Robert because he had to be, but still small-framed and scrappy rather than some big polished brawler. He fights like an animal. He bites. He hacks, steals, sneaks, sabotages, crawls through vents, uses knives and tasers and broken glass and whatever else he can get his hands on. He has way more scars because there was never a suit protecting him. He’s also done a lot of bad things over the years. Tortured people for intel, stolen, manipulated, sold his body for money and information, all of it. And he’s horrifyingly casual about it, because to him that’s just been his life for 15 years.
He's basically turned himself into a tool for killing Shroud and doesn't think about what that cost him because if he does, he’ll probably fall apart.
Then he ends up crossing paths with the Z-team during a Red Ring compound mission. He’s there stealing intel, they’re there to take the place out quietly, and both sides assume the other is Red Ring. He actually manages to take down Punch Up, Prism, and Sonar through dirty tricks and being a prepared little freak, which is insane for a powerless guy but also very much not sustainable. Golem finally gets him contained and starts suffocating him, and that’s when Flambae recognizes him.
Because Flambae and Stray have history.
Years earlier, Flambae was doing hired help for the Red Ring and ended up fighting Stray during one of his infiltrations. Just like in canon, Stray was responsible for Flambae losing his fingers. But in this version, Flambae doesn’t resent him the same way he resents Mecha Man in canon. Because, not only did Stray not send him to jail, but losing his fingers eventually got him close with his sister again, which helped push him out of villain work and toward accepting the SDN’s Phoenix Program offer. So Flambae is, in a weird way, kind of grateful to him.
Robert, meanwhile, is absolutely not grateful for Flambae.
Because Flambae left him with horrific burn scars across his back. Bad enough burns that Robert had to hunker down for months to recover, which meant missing Red Ring opportunities, losing leads, and falling behind Shroud.
Which is great because Flambae’s interest in him makes sense way before Robert is ready to deal with it. Flambae knows Stray as the vicious little bastard who changed the course of his life, and once they’re forced into each other’s orbit again, he starts seeing past the teeth and knives and alley cat behavior into the damaged, brilliant, furious person underneath. Robert keeps trying to push him away, but Flambae is one of the few people who can actually take what Robert throws and throw it right back. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pity him, doesn’t try to soften him into something easier. He just stays.
Robert has no idea what to do with that.
Their dynamic starts out so hostile. Robert resents him, Flambae needles him, and everybody else has to suffer through the world’s worst tension. But the thing is, Flambae being sharp back actually makes him safer to Robert than people who are too gentle too fast. Robert knows how to survive anger. He knows how to survive roughness. What he doesn’t know how to survive is someone being angry with him and still staying.
As for the rest of the AU, the Phoenix Program is different because the SDN is desperate. Shroud and the Red Ring have taken out so many heroes that the SDN starts recruiting villains with the promise of expunging their records if they help fight the Red Ring, no pulling anyone out of prison. The Z-team are basically the people crazy or desperate enough to say yes.
Prism joins because Shroud tried to force her into being his propaganda face, and Flambae encouraged her to take the Phoenix Program offer with him. Sonar got himself way too deep into Red Ring financial work and went to Malevola for help getting out, so she joined the program with him. Coupé joins because she learns the Red Ring is augmenting assassins who refuse them and stripping away their free will. Punch Up did Red Ring work a while back, decided it had gotten way too monstrous, and had been ducking them for years by the time he and Coupé joined. Golem was found and used by the Red Ring until Invisigal grew soft on him and got him out, so he joins because he wants to take the Red Ring down and help her.
Invisigal is still Red Ring in this AU because the Mecha Man explosion never happened. The team eventually captures her, Robert tortures her for information, and Golem is the reason they don’t just kill her or leave her behind. She ends up becoming a spy for them and eventually joins the Z-team after everything is over, which leads to her and Robert becoming weird, volatile friends.
Waterboy also gets hired as a hero immediately instead of starting as a janitor because the SDN can’t afford to be picky. He was supposed to go to another team, but Robert meets him, initially judges him for being pathetic, then very quickly sees too much of his younger self in him and gets weirdly possessive. So Waterboy becomes Z-team because Stray has apparently adopted him and no one wants to argue with the feral man with knives.
Chase and Robert are also way more volatile here. Chase is overjoyed and devastated to find out Robert is alive, but Robert is furious with him in a way that is deeply unfair and very much trauma brain. He blames Chase for not being there, not finding him, not saving him, not stopping him from becoming this. Eventually Chase gets badly hurt because of a decision Robert makes, and that’s what finally cracks Robert open enough to admit that what he really wanted was for Chase to have been there when everything was at its worst.
Overall, the big shift is that Robert never becomes Mecha Man. He becomes Stray instead: a scarred, feral, morally compromised, anti Red Ring nightmare who has spent 15 years making himself into the thing Shroud forgot to be afraid of. And then, unfortunately for everyone, the Z-team finds him, Flambae falls for him, Prism judges the hell out of that, and Robert slowly has to deal with the horrifying realization that being loved might be worse than being hunted.
Actually, you are enough. Even if you don’t work. Or study. Or go out. Or have friends. Or have family. You’re enough because you exist and your existence is enough to be enough because you are not a product. You are not a sum of output. You are not a task to complete. But because you are something the universe wanted and put here even if you’ll never understand why. Somewhere in the cosmos your existence makes a difference, even if it’s not the way others existences do.
