#storm writes

Cosmonaut always waited for you to get home, greeting you with a hug at the door before you even got the chance to kick your shoes off, asking you about your day, and wether you wanted help making dinner that night. He was always respectful, but very... Excitable. You figured he wasn't used to human lifestyle.

You started to notice him sticking around you early on, but like any unknowledgeable animatronic caretaker, just chalked it up to him being an overall more sociable bot.

.. you weren't... Entirely wrong about that.

His lingering touches and constant eagerness to help you- to just be around you, the way he looked at you like you were the one that shone like a star, the way his rays would twirl and click whenever you said his name...

He was like a puppy that'd just learned who it's owner was. Stuck by your side, and a mess without you.

This ... Made his unexplained absence that afternoon all the more concerning.

You'd gotten held up at work right before your time to clock out, stalling you a good 30 minutes or so on top of the travel time to get back to your apartment.

Honestly, the main reason you were so peeved about the whole endeavor was keeping Cosmo waiting so long. You'd never been late in your relatively short time having him stay with you- and you really didn't wanna worry him over such trivial things.

After putting away your coat, keys, and changing out of your 'people clothes' without so much as a peep from your robotic housemate, you grew fully concerned.

"Hey, I'm home Cosmo..!" You call out into the hallway from your room, "Did you trip over your charging cord or what? No hug tonight?"

Well that felt odd to feel disappointed about.

You were fine without it, really. It was his little ritual, and you were just checking up on him since he missed it. Nothing more.

A dull thud from the guest room snaps you out of your denial, and your ears perk at the sound of the doorknob being quickly fumbled with before clicking open

Cosmonaut nearly stumbles out the door and beelines to scoop you into his arms, twirling once in place and setting you back down before you can even process his disheveled appearance

"Starshine-!! You- you took so much longer than usual, I wasn't prepared- oh my stars I'm so sorry-- how was things?? I mean- you! Your job-? How was your day!!!"

You didn't think it was possible for a hairless animatronic to have bedhead, but you're promptly proven wrong with how his rays stick out at all uneven points and tilt just sliiiightly to the left-

...God that really was infuriating....

He was leaned down enough that you could just...... barely..............

You hook a finger through the metal ring on his collar, gently tugging him down just far enough to carefully pull and shift his rays back into position. You lean back to make sure they're properly symmetrical before releasing him, giving a satisfied huff as you do so

Cosmo only stares. his mouth hangs slightly agape at your sheer boldness, and his optics glow a shimmering gold that spreads to the rest of his faceplate like a wildfire

He doesn't bother standing back up straight, leaning over you and ticking his rays in and out in a slow, full circle around his head.

Apon second thought, maybe you should've asked before touching, yeah?

You don't get much time to dwell on it though, as Cosmo gently grabs for one of your hands, holding it in his own much larger pair.

"..u-uhm- sorry about that..." You pipe up, your mouth suddenly feeling very dry as you swallow nothing, "I.. wasn't thinkin' straight- I should've--"

"No."

"...?"

As the spike of guilt grew in your chest, it was just as quickly smothered by Cosmonaut bringing your hand to press against the side of his faceplate.

You finally meet his gaze. and for a moment, you're the one left staring.

His normally Lidded eyes droop further in soft slopes, mismatched pupils wide and flicking across every detail of your face; illuminated by the golden glow of his own. Your hand is almost entirely dwarfed by his, barely visible in how he cradles it to his cheek- holding you like you'd disappear at any moment

He just wanted to feel you...

That's all he'd ever wanted after you became the number one thought in his system.

"Please... Don't be sorry, Sweetheart.." Cosmo mutters softly, enough so that his voice box crackles slightly, "I really don't mind... You can touch me however you like."

If you weren't already red in the face from his honey-coated nickname, you certainly were after his last whispered words.

"Cosmo, I.."

You knew he didn't mean it in that way.

"Yes, my star?" He searches your features hopefully, giving a soft squeeze and leaning into your hand, almost as if coaxing you to do more.

A small beat passes before you raise your free hand, cupping the other side of Cosmo's faceplate as he leans closer inch by inch

.....

You really hoped he meant it in that way.

You suck in a shaky breath, before taking the chance in front of you.

Pulling yourself up by his shoulders, you place a quick yet firm kiss to Cosmos silicon lips and lean back again, your face practically stained with red as you look up into his now widened eyes.

With the sound of stuttering fans and a hand around your waist, your worries are no more. Cosmonaut pulls you flush to his chest while simultaneously trapping you against the wall, catching you in a flurry of kisses that you're sure only land on your lips half the time. His faceplate is warm against your skin, leaving a pleasant tingling in its wake that washes away any doubts you could've had about his "unexplainable" liking to you

You get a moment to breathe as he pulls back slightly, just admiring the hazy grin that rests on your features while you come down from your giggly, kiss-induced high

"S-sorry, lovely, I got a little carried away-" Cosmo admits in a huffed chuckle, "gosh, you're just so soft..."

Your hands find his smaller rays, carefully running along the rims and playing with his peircings. You really couldn't have predicted being in this position even just yesterday- but here, with his arms around you and your faces inches apart, you wouldn't want it any other way.

"Please, you don't have to be sorry about anything, sweetheart." You trace your thumb along Cosmos cheek, mirroring his own previous words back to him, "...I really liked that.. I really- I really like you, Cosmo."

Your words evidently strike a chord in him, and you find yourself picked up again in a flash. This time, he whisks you away to his own bedroom (technically your spare room- but you'd refurbished it for him to use), the monochrome bot not seeming keen on letting you go any time soon.

Maybe being late wasn't such a bad thing this time...

Year I

Year II

Year III

Year IV - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Year V

Year VI

Year VII

Miscellaneous Writing and Art

Blitzo Spies OC Lineup - Apocalypse Hellaverse art done by @heyjay177art

Magia de Papel - Amelda wielding magic written by @storm89

I'm Ready - Fizz AU Comic by @heyjay177art

Spy Work - Blitzo AU network of spies written by @storm89

Amelda & Striker Animatic - art done by @eyecandyeoz

Apocalypse Loona - art done by @eyecandyeoz

Armored Ozzie - Apocalypse AU art done by @heyjay177art

Apocalypse Via - art done by @heyjay177art

Easy as Breathing - written by @storm89/ cover illustrated by @eyecandyeoz

More Than Anything - Hazbin inspired art between Amelda and Striker done by @eyecandyeoz

Blitzo Throne - art done by @heyjay177art

Fate has a twisted sense of humor - comic art done by @fletchingbrilliant

Apocalypse Stolas - art done by @eyecandyeoz

Oliver Grown Up - art done by @heyjay177art

Nearing, All Might throws something across the room with a snarl, a small container that hits the wall with a piercing sound, glass shattering and black ink staining the wall. The smell is immediate- nail polish. You have to stifle the laugh that leaves you after the initial shock dissipates, bright burning blue eyes turning to you, his thick blond brows furrowing in his anger at the sudden intruder. "You." he bellows, jabbing a large finger down at the ground besides him, "Come here."

Who are you to deny the Scourge of Japan, the Great Villain, All Might? You realize you aren't breathing, stepping towards the giant of a man -- there was no way to refuse even if you had wanted to. This is it, you're dead. You had laughed at the man and now he was going to end your miserable little life. 

 "Sit." 

He barks out, kicking the stool next to him with his heavy boot. You finally take that breath you'd been holding. He orders you to paint his nails. You would've laughed if it wasn't him. No, you had learned your lesson.

Your hands are trembling with the brush, a twisted smile on the villains face seeing how he affected you so. Sweet little safecracker...His cerulean eyes roam over the way your lips parted, brows raised in concentration as the slightest bit of sweat began to bead on your brow. You took care, painting each with an endless black, not daring to mark his skin with the polish.

Those calloused and scarred hands, monstrous in size, had leveled near cities to ruin. They could end you in a fraction of a second. The man was terrifying.  It felt like hours, feeling his harsh gaze on you ,doing your best at the task at hand. There is a hum in the back of the giants throat, a grim satisfaction at your trembling hands and anxious demeanor... He was enjoying this. 

When all ten were finally painted you let out a sigh of relief.

No sooner then your exhale started did his hand grip your chin, oh the fear in your eyes was delicious to him, especially how you let out a loud gasp as his hand tilted your head upwards. Your nose flaring at the  acrid smell of wet polish so close.  His thumb ran against your bottom lip, his tongue mimicking the action as it ran along his sharp canine. "See you soon, My little Safecracker." the sound of his voice like rolling thunder, an approaching storm just over the horizon- a warning of what was to come. 

No words left your too-dry mouth, terror lined your every feature as he grinned down at you. His hand left your chin, a sinister smile against his lips. All Might had drank his dose of fear and had had his fill...for now. He stood, chuckling as heavy boots beat against the concrete with muffled thuds. Casting one last glance as you trembled with nails digging into the wood of the table, too petrified of what transpired to look back.

The King never could move quietly. He’s always been like that, ever since he was a little kid, snot nosed and terrified by his own strength. 

Sylvain knows it’s him without needing to look.

“Sylvain.”

He remembers, once — back when the future had seemed bright and no one had died and left them behind — his friend storming up to him in tears, the pieces of a broken lance held forlornly in his hands. He’d been mortified, Sylvain remembers. Mortified and so, so afraid that Felix was angry with him that he’d sobbed into Sylvain’s cloak until Felix had finally torn around the corner, out-of-breath and red-faced from crying— 

Sylvain slides the whetstone over the spear’s blade too fast. The tip nicks his skin and he hisses. 

“Sylvain.”

Goddess. Part of Sylvain doesn’t know if he can face him right now, because he knows exactly why he’s here. He can hear it in his friend’s voice, knows the exact look he’ll see in his friend’s eyes.

But he can’t ignore him. Won’t. He’s the King, Sylvain’s King.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Do not— do not do that, Sylvain.”

The energy drains out of him, like it’s leaked through his boots and out into the dirty tent floor below. Sylvain lowers the spear, laying it gently down next to his others. The Lance of Ruin twitches grotesquely as his fingers brush against its grip. 

He turns his head. The King’s expression matches the one Sylvain had imagined exactly.

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” He’s wearing his father’s armour again. Sylvain hasn’t seen him out of it since— Arianrhod fell. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Something seems to break in Dimitri then. His shoulders, broader than life in plated metal, sag, heavy with the same weight that Sylvain has felt crushing his chest for weeks. He swallows. Guilt thickens in his lungs.

“Sylvain, please. I—”

And Sylvain stands, suddenly seized by the need to move. To look Dimitri in the eye on an equal level. To be closer to him, as he chokes on the words sticking in his mouth.

Dimitri clenches his hands into fists at his side.

“I… I ask not as the King, but— as your friend, Sylvain. If you wish to flee, and find somewhere to live the rest of your life in peace, then— then I would not hold that against you. I— I would encourage you to—”

“Your Majesty—”

“Please, Sylvain, let me finish. I am trying to—”

“Dimitri.”

The King breaks off. He looks shaken, and Sylvain tries to recall the last time he’d called his friend by his name. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Dimitri. So stop it with that crap.”

Dimitri hesitates for a moment. Sylvain sees the apple of his throat bob. “I— Sylvain. You must be aware of how slim our chances are now. This next battle may very well be my last stand and I— I do not know if I can stomach the thought of losing you here, too.”

“You really are an idiot, you know, Your Majesty? Felix would—” he falters. Tries again. “Felix would hold you at swordpoint if he could hear you talking like this, and don’t get me started on what Ingrid would say.”

Dimitri makes a gut-wrenching, gasping sound and Sylvain takes a step towards him without thinking. 

“It’s my fault, Sylvain. I sent them out there— I ordered them to—”

“They made their choices independent of you, Dimitri. They chose to protect Faerghus, just like they chose to protect Faerghus every moment of this damned war. Just like we are now. Just like everyone back in Fhirdiad is. We’re not doing it for you Dimitri. We’re doing it with you.”

Dimitri reaches out, and Sylvain meets him halfway. Their hands meet, solid and real, and Sylvain pulls him in. His King, his friend, his brother. He squeezes Dimitri’s palm through the cold leather of his gauntlet and meets his eyes dead on.