Dispatch
(Closed, Moderated)
Recent bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
"Robert. You've been hit with a power that causes persistent heightened anxiety." Blazer cuts to the chase, keeping her voice carefully calm and measured.
There's a reason why she's there with the amulet and why visitors were restricted to only her and Chase.
Robert, on a good day outside the suit, was a force to be reckoned with. She doesn't want to think about what he's capable of when he's operating on the constant heightened panic of a cornered animal.
---
Or the fic where I give Robert a seven day long panic attack and Turbo Anxiety and force Flambae to lock him in his apartment to keep an eye on him wrow.
-
- Words:
- 7,838
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 23
-
Tags
Summary
Robert and Flambae run into each other after hours and the dispatcher discovers he likes Flambae's pecs a little too much.
-
Tags
Summary
“Flambae.” Robert’s eyes widen as he tries and fails to keep his voice from pitching with anxiety. He won’t beg over the group line, but it’s a close thing. “Flambae, I’m giving you an order. If you don’t wait for the others, I’m benching you.”
Robert can feel eyes on him; his coworkers must be turning at his audible distress, but he can only concern himself with the floor opening up beneath his shitty office chair and threatening to swallow him whole.
“Fuck you.” Flambae doubles down with real, tangible conviction.
When a red icon pops up alerting Robert that Flambae has turned his earpiece off, his ribs cave in on themselves. On screen, Flambae erupts and is gone in the blink of an eye.
-
Tags
Summary
It should've been a typical night. Robert was walking home after work, and thank god Chase had taken Beef with him that night. He really has no one to blame but himself, and his stupid hero complex.
Or:
Robert gets himself hurt and tries to hide it. Flambae isn't having it.