The place for me to post stuff about whatever fandoms I'm currently obsessing over. Art, headcanons, fics, etc. My current fixations cycle too much to be listed, so be prepared for seemingly random nonsense. Main: @cheerfulmelancholies (my writeblr)
This blog is for anything fandom-related that I'm currently into. Main is @cheerfulmelancholies
Blank/default blogs blocked on sight.
I'll post fanart, writing, comments about a series, anything. In no particular order, my most common posts revolve around:
Dispatch—I've fallen victim to the hype, send help
Pokepastas—Mainly Glitchy Red and Strangled Red, FNF Hypno's Lullably, and honestly just any one that I deem interesting.
Danny Phantom
Bomb Rush Cyberfunk—Seriously, play it if you haven't. If you love JSR or JSRF, you'll love it. If you don't love those two, you'll probably still enjoy it anyway.
Lupin III
Dead Plate
Pizza Tower
Code Lyoko
Megas XLR/Generator Rex/Ben 10—basically any Cartoon Network series from the 2000s and 2010s. I grew up on that shit.
Motorcity (Disney XD show)—Seriously check it out if you're able. The animation alone makes it worthwhile. But be warned, Disney XD really fucked that show hard and it's a shame it wasn't allowed to run longer.
Initial D
Anime
Video game stuff
Fanart of practically anything if I happen to like it.
There's more stuff I post or reblog, like FNAF, Pokémon and FNF, it really just depends.
My ask box is always open. I'm down to chat about fandoms or my own works. I don't do requests. Please use common sense when interacting.
Any of my own writing I will post under the tag 'my writing.' Right now it's just a handful of Glitchy Red fics, a cross post of my Dead Plate fic, and a Hot Wheels BF5 fic. The main Glitchy Red fic is called 'Connection' but there's also 'Limits,' and 'And Again' as well as some headcanon posts and miscellaneous stuff. The BF5 one is called 'Mysterious New Member.' Dead Plate is 'It's The Thought That Counts'. You can find any of those tagged under titles as well as the respective fandom names. For other people's writing I tag with, well, 'other's writing' or 'other's works' if you're interested to see any written stuff. Otherwise everything else usually falls under 'fanart' in some way, or the name of the fandom.
Here's some AO3 links to my main fics if that's easier than finding them on tumblr.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Sometimes we’re unsatisfied with a thing we made because when it only existed in our head, we saw all the things it could have been and when it’s done we know all the things that it isn’t, but we can’t see the way it expands into a million new things when someone else unpacks it in their head.
I needed to write some super painful Robert hurt/comfort, sorry all, no silly ideas here, only crying
Dispatch au, where everything's the same except Robert is a grieving father (I actually think I saw a post similar to this a while ago, but I can't remember)
-~-~-~-~-
It happened as a result of a casual fling in his early twenties. Robert hadn't thought much of it at the time, other than that it was a good night and it'd felt nice to be close to another person. He remembered using protection, but most of the details were blurry so maybe he actually hadn't, because several months later the woman he'd slept with ended up on his doorstep, visibly pregnant and scared.
She was freshly evicted, and claimed her parents wouldn't take her in on account of her unplanned pregnancy, so Robert didn't hesitate to let her move in. One night stand aside, it was the heroic thing to do in this situation, and as the one to put her in this situation, he couldn't leave her or the baby homeless.
So, she moved into Robert's family home that he hadn't gotten around to selling yet, and Robert supported her through the rest of the pregnancy. They weren't in a relationship, but together enough to comfortably agree on co-parenting. The thought of being a father had terrified Robert at the time, especially since he only had a handful of months to wrap his head around the concept. He feared turning into his own father, especially once he learned he was having a son. Robert was already following in his father's footsteps in every other way, it was only a matter of time before his parenting abilities proved to be the same.
But then his son was born, and Robert absolutely fell in love with him. He kept him as far separated from the legacy as possible. The Mech was stored far from the house, anything hero related was stored out of sight, and he'd dropped the godawful Robert name lineage (don't know what he named him, I'm thinking maybe Liam??). Even just hours old, Robert couldn't imagine hurting his little boy, mentally or physically. Not like what his dad had done with him.
Robert cut down on how often he went out as Mecha Man, but paternity leave wasn't exactly an option for solo heroes. He switched his nighttime patrols to daytime ones, so he was available to take care of his son throughout the night while the boy's mom got the rest she needed.
He thought the system worked great for the first few days of his son's life, but then he got home late one night to the sound of his son's strained, exhausted crying, the sight of the baby in an hours old dirty diaper and spit up crusting his little onesie, cold formula knocked to the floor, and whatever belongings from the kid's mother gone.
Robert had jumped straight into getting his son clean and calm and fed, then searched the house for his mother. He was pissed, and rightfully so. All signs of her were wiped clean, like she hadn't been living there at all. She hadn't left a note, or even fucking called him to make him come home early. She'd just left their barely week old baby alone, possibly for hours, and ran away. And Robert didn't bother trying to contact her. If it was a postpartum thing, she'd come back and they could talk and figure things out, but he knew she wasn't coming back, and he was now effectively a single dad.
From there, Robert fully dedicated himself to his son. He took a break from hero work, spent hours with his needy baby, and did little coding jobs on the side when he needed something to do. Robert planned to give up hero work until his son was older, but then his son got sick.
It came out of nowhere. Only a few years old, and his son was hospitalized. It hit the kid hard, and it'd been horrifying, watching him go from energetic, happy and playful to exhausted, quiet and pained. Robert spent as much time with him as possible, but when he had to go home afterward, he couldn't handle the silence and ended up returning to hero work as a distraction.
Years went by with his new routine. He'd get to the hospital once visitation hours started, spend all day with him, playing and drawing or doing whatever he wanted, then he'd read him a bedtime story before visitation ended. Then Robert would leave and go out as Mecha Man for the night, go home to choke down a quick dinner and sleep for a bit, then begin the process all over again the next day.
He quickly drained his savings on treatments for his son, and on Mech repairs from his own carelessness. The cost of the treatments had him cheaping out on materials for the Mech though, and it wouldn't be long before the Mech fully shut down. Robert only hoped that by then, his boy would be back home and healthy again.
-~-~-~-~-
He passed just before his tenth birthday.
Robert knew it was coming, but witnessing his son's final breaths had been so much more difficult than he thought it would be. No amount of preparing for that moment made it any easier, to see his precious boy's struggles to live, and then the stillness of a life given up afterward.
Robert felt numb throughout the process of it all, disconnected from the grief that lay heavy in his heart. The burial was a private affair, taking place the day before his son's birthday, with only himself and Beef present because Robert had nobody. He'd handled it all alone, not even letting his baby's deadbeat mother know what was happening.
The grief didn't fully hit until after it was all over, when Robert went back home and realized there were no daily hospital visits anymore, there was no gentle playing or expensive treatments or children's stories anymore, he was gone.
Robert broke down in the middle of his son's bedroom, surrounded by reminders that he'd failed his own son worse than his dad had with him.
He couldn't stay there after that. Robert sold the house, moved into a piece of shit apartment, donated what he could and stuffed the rest in storage or closets.
Robert knew that going after Shroud would result in an ambush, he knew that it was a suicide mission. He just. . . Didn't care anymore.
-~-~-~-~-
The grief didn't go away, it just changed shape. Some days it settled deep in his chest like a heavy sludge, and other days it pressed into his lungs until he choked.
After the explosion and waking from the coma, Robert learned to adjust to the grief, living day by day knowing that he'd outlived his son, and he couldn't do anything to change it. He'd never get over the loss, but throughout his recovery, Robert slowly adjusted and learned to live with it.
Starting work at SDN certainly helped. It kept him busy and gave him plenty to do, and the team he was in charge of even managed to keep his mind off of it all with their ridiculousness.
There were times though, where random little things reminded Robert of his son, and that choking in his lungs came back. Any mention of sick kids set it off, or seeing his son's favorite snacks, or even pictures of himself as a kid Chase kept bringing in, purely because his son had been a little clone of himself. Even times when Flambae mentioned his niece had him near tears, because she was close to his son's age.
He never told anyone about his son, not even Chase, because he just wasn't ready to talk about it, not when he was still mourning him.
-~-~-~-~-
Going out for drinks with the team became a weekly thing after Shroud's arrest. Robert tried not to join them often, because he tended to get carried away, but this week they dragged him along anyway. He didn't even fight against it, but certainly made his displeasure known.
He didn't drink anything at first, but then the team all talked him into just one, that quickly turned to two, then three, then so many more. The night progressed like that, with everyone getting shit faced and Robert ignoring his own insistence of no more.
At some point, the whole team had settled into a large booth, all talking shit and cracking jokes as per usual. Robert was content to just sit there and listen, but then the topic of kids somehow came up, and Sonar said something about how “Robert would totally name his kid Robert the Fourth”, and he immediately jumped in.
“Absolutely not, I named my-” And then he realized what he was saying and stopped, sliding his hand over his mouth. Oh god.
At first, everyone collectively smirked and prepared to tease him over looking like he was about to throw up, but then began panicking when tears started building in his eyes. He was crying.
And by panic, they completely flipped out.
“Oh my god, what happened?!” Sonar yelped, leaping from his seat- and promptly wobbling a little because he was quite tipsy, and thus began the chorus of freaking out that nobody could keep track of.
“What did you do?!”
“You broke him! You broke Bob-Bob, what the fuck?!”
“Robert, what's going on? You need to breathe.”
“Holy shit he's dying!”
Robert didn't know if it was the copious amount of alcohol, or if he was finally trusting them, or if his body was tired of holding back, but he didn't even fight the tears as they came. He sucked in shaky breaths, feeling like he was being crushed under the weight of his loss all over again.
It was, surprisingly, Flambae that went to comfort him first. Maybe it wasn't too surprising given he was the most sober, but with their history? Robert expected mockery, not gentle hands and soft looks that only made the tears fall harder.
“Hey, you're okay Bobbo, just let it out,” He said soothingly, hands warm on Robert's arms. The firestarter then looked over his shoulder, barking orders, “Mal, fucking calm down! Stop scolding your fucking rat and get over here, we're taking our crybaby home.” Despite his harsh words, there was a noticeable worried edge to them.
And that stopped the chaos, at least for a moment. Long enough for Malevola to rip open a portal, and for Flambae to haul Robert to his feet and drag him through to his depressing living room.
The rest of the team followed them in, hovering anxiously and whispering nervously, unsure what to do. Robert couldn't help but feel ashamed, for showing so much weakness in front of them all, for ruining their fun night out with his issues.
Robert was shoved unceremoniously onto his couch, and the whole team crowded around him without warning. Malevola and Sonar settled on either side of him on the couch, Golem sat next to the couch and reached out a large hand to gently touch his knee, Visi leaned on the construct watching Robert like he was about to explode again, Coupé and Punch Up forced him to sip a bottle of water from where they anxiously hovered, Prism stood off to the side holding a sick bucket out like a shield, and in the center of it all Flambae crouched on the floor by Robert's legs.
The pyro stared into his eyes with a gaze so intense it helped to ground Robert, speaking to him gently yet firmly. Robert didn't know what he was saying, just that his words, Mal’s firm warmth on his left side, Sonar's fluffy softness on his right side, and everyone else's quiet worry slowly calmed him down.
There was an unspoken question hanging heavy in the air, one that Robert didn't want to address, but his drunken brain still scrambled to answer even after the crying sobered him up.
“I didn't name him Robert,” He gasped out, “I swear, I would never.”
Everyone hesitated, and only Malevola was brave enough to ask.
“Who?”
Robert opened and closed his mouth, choking on his response, then finally uttered, “My son.”
Something seemed to shift then, and everyone pressed a little closer. They weren't suffocating, or smothering, but soothing. The waterworks started again, silent tears tracking down Robert's face once more.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Mal prompted, so soft her voice was more warbly than usual.
And again, he really didn't want to, but he blurted out his answer anyway.
“Leukemia, he. . .” Robert breathed out shakily, “He had leukemia. He didn't make it. . .”
“Fuck,” Visi hissed, stricken, and was echoed by a handful of others.
“How long?” Flambae asked gently.
Robert blinked, trying to remember exactly how long it'd been since he lost his son, and crying a little harder when he realized he didn't know.
“Before my coma. He passed about a week before, was tryin- trying to join him,” He answered instead, flinching after his admission. Why did he say that?
“Fuck,” Visi repeated, sounding choked up, likely from realizing just how close she'd been to giving him what he wanted at the time.
Sonar hissed an angry sound, pressing his weight a little more against Robert. That, combined with Mal coiling her muscular arms around him, squeezed a startled huff from Robert, but the pressure settled his brain a little more.
“Honey,” Prism spoke, hesitant, “That was only five months ago, how're you even still standing?”
“I don't wanna be,” Robert responded weakly.
“And that's okay,” Coupé spoke up, calm and gentle.
“We got you, you're not alone anymore,” Sonar added, tucking himself firmly against Robert's side.
And once again, Robert broke down, letting the grief wash over him.
-~-~-~-~-
Everyone ended up having an impromptu sleepover after that, and the next morning, Robert surprised even himself when he dug around in his closet and pulled out a box of his son's things.
In it, he had his old phone full of pictures he hadn't transferred over, and some physical photos, alongside his son's favorite toys, some of his books he couldn't donate, and his hospital band.
Robert spent the day talking about his little boy, and the team all listened. He talked about how his son wanted to go to space and hug pluto because he felt bad that it wasn't a real planet, and how Beef was actually his dog and he'd come up with the name, and how he'd been a little copy and paste of Robert, right down to the chipped ear- which his son had damaged after falling and hurting himself before he got sick.
And even when Robert got choked up, that thick well of grief in his chest began softening with each new memory he shared.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Lupin III
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III
Characters: Jigen Daisuke, Arsène Lupin III
Additional Tags: Not Beta Read, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Hospital Setting, Short, probably sweet idk, nothing happens in this fic, art included in beginning notes
Summary:
It took a lot of will and strength to wrangle his good arm into cooperation. It felt numb, distant, as if it wasn’t even a part of him. Yet Daisuke lifted the limb, carefully maneuvering his palm over the heaviness.
—
Brain had a mood therefore it summoned a tiny Jiglup hospital one shot thingy.
Nothing really happens in this one. Jigen is high and Lupin is sleeping.
===
Really short, some 400 words. Art included in beginning notes. Lupin is protective even in his sleep. I’m out of brain cells for the day, otherwise I’d tell you more.
"Fuck... Robert, stay with me, waterboy- blazer, they're all gonna get here soon."
"Robert?"
"Robert... please...we fucking need you mechabitch. You didn't fucking die the first time so-"
"Robert. The fire, I can't keep it off for long."
"I'm sorry I... I love you. I'm so fucking sorry. I love you. I love you..."
A mission gone wrong led to Flambae engulfing Robert in an embrace of bright, scalding flames. It was mercy, the dignity of a quick death before the fire consumed him. Chad never knew what it felt like to be burnt from the fire and the flames before this moment. Now, he could feel every blister on Robert's heated body. Robert already knew only one of them would make it out alive. Only, his life didn't flash before his eyes. Not his father, not his legacy, or days in his solitary apartment. He was taken right back to his first encounter with Flambae. With Chad. He didn't have any air to spare for words, ones bouncing in his oxygen deprived brain. But he knew Chad understood it too. A final look, kiss, apology, hug, *goodbye* marked the end of Mecha Man. In the arms of the man who once swore to kill him, and did just that.
even though i'm actually quite reluctant to 'ship' pairs even when they're wildly popular with fans and have millions of followers and maybe i am a little contrarian, flambert is one of those ships that i genuinely think a lot of subtext and opportunity was lost... especially in comparison to the two options offered: blonde blazer and visi
the blonde blazer kiss comes very fast from a narrative point of view: she took him to a bar, drank like an alcoholic, secretly knew information about him, and instead of probing that further and having the option of being a) offended at the search, b) gently worried about the alcoholism, all of a sudden.. there's a kiss?
granted, blonde blazer is very sexy, that's true, but it doesn't make much sense, and even though the player's seen robert for only a couple of minutes, it just doesn't seem like something he'd do
the way flambae was introduced though? lowkey - like a major secondary character, and so one would expect (or i did at least) for him to play a more prominent role
anyway...
Yeah, unfortunately Blonde Blazer lacked a lot of depth for me so I never went for her in canon. The story practically centers around Visi and Robert, so them ending up together makes a lot more sense, but Flambae was honestly set up so perfectly that it's criminal they didn't make him an option.
Robert never could pinpoint when exactly it went wrong.
When his father died, maybe, and he'd hijacked the suit that didn't recognize his voice command. Mecha Man Astral did it on purpose.
Robert had overheard him talking to Track Star about Elliot, how he "didn't have it in him." Not like Track Star. Robert always knew he would say the same for him too.
So there was no permission needed. No one to give it anyway. He'd rewired the suit and added in his own voice command. Only his.
And he wouldn't call it wrong—but definitely not right—the things he did after. He'd thought about it a lot, when it was too early and too late and he had too much time to kill. His hands were bloody, but they still itched for a fight—something, anything.
The first time he met the new SDN hero, Flambae, he laughed in the man's face. Saw the clench in his jaw, recognized the fury in his eyes.
Robert found every single thing that makes the man tick. It was exhilarating. It was fun.
He really liked playing with fire, he decided.
"Robert."
"Chad." His mouth formed the syllable naturally. Flames danced in the man's eyes, across his knuckles. Familiar, intimately known in the form of a purpling bruise on his cheek. Occasionally he'd feel them splayed across his jaw, much gentler than now.
"We keep meeting like this," there's a ghost of a smile playing on Robert's lips. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you like me."
"Brat." Chad's accented voice crackles with the fire around them. "You just want my attention."
And oh he did, he loved the way his gaze burned, all the way down his body.
Robert grinned, expecting the blow that comes next. Flambae is so very predictable, too easy to rile up and even easier to talk down.
He enjoys it nonetheless, the way Flambae would growl and lunge, trying to catch him, always too slow, always too soft.
This is as much of a tantrum as Robert would allow himself. A plea. A cry for help. Hurt disguised as rebellion and apathy. All wrapped up in a smile. Familiar, in the way his lungs burned.
"Robert, turn yourself in." Chad has said a million times, and a million more. "You can join the program, be a real hero. We can fight together."
And it's too sincere, the way his voice wavers with the thinning air. Too desperate. Too affectionate.
Chad would choose him no matter what.
And Robert always chose the thing that hurt him most.
"I'll turn myself in when you catch me." Robert gives a salute as he powers up his suit. "See you around, Bae."
They both know the real answer is never. Chad will never catch him, and he'll never turn himself in, and he'll never let himself love openly.
You guys have noticed that I'm starting to change my approach in art a little bit, focusing on dark tones and themes on my style. this is the way I want to follow for now.
I'm open to work on commissions only on this style for now on, and you can already order a artwork like this one Vgen or e-mail.
and my Inprnt page is already online with all the artworks above for sale as prints.
