vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
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Zood is truly a beautiful place. Torse is endlessly glad to have been given the opportunity to explore it, to see its skies and its lands, its flora and fauna. Today, bereft of any pressing action to take while the crew of the Zephyr resupply and refuel, he wanders a small forest of blue trees and red flowers, the grass soft underneath his feet. He can sense softness, now. The crew of the Zephyr have given him that - Marya, specifically, but he would not have known to ask her had Maxwell not gifted him a plush scarf, found at a Bazaar in some city. He had not told Maxwell about the extra wires she had soldered into him, but he keeps the scarf tucked under his breastplate, a token from a fair maiden.
Maxwell is not his fair maiden. It had simply been a gift. It would behoove him to remember that.
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
26 Nov 2025
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Torse, roused from his hibernation without a heart, had forgotten, memories of his homeland rust-stained and faded as they were, what it was like for others to aid in maintenance, though humans were so unlike his mechanical people.
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
26 Nov 2025
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he held onto you with a desperate strength by Dansnotavampire
Fandoms: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
19 Sep 2025
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You are falling. You do not expect to make it out of this - you do not deserve to make it out of this, you've ruined everything, you wretch, you ruin, you warmonger.
But there is something you must say, as you see Maxwell Gotch barrel towards you, an avenging angel, wingsuit spread, breaching the gap between worlds to chase you. You do not deserve his care. You do not deserve him. You are going to fall to your death, and you cannot make yourself into someone who is good enough for him, not with this heart, so easily overtaken.
“I always considered you a friend, Maxwell,” you say. You have to say it, say something, use your last words to try and convey an iota of how deep your affections for him lie. He may have been your first real friend, the closest thing to your gold-metal heart. You are going to die, here, in the space between worlds, and he will at least have known that you cared.
Talons come around you. Straka. Everything goes black, and the last of the Aganti Zernai is gone.
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
26 Nov 2025
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Maxwell and Torse experience the inherent intimacy of bathing another person.
(Tags, Summary, and chapter count updated as of 11/28/2025 to reflect the fic's new status as complete. Nothing new has been added)
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
26 Nov 2025
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my fists are fine (it's just my soul's a little bruised) by Dansnotavampire
Fandoms: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
20 Sep 2025
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Summary
Maxwell is exhausted. Not just tired, not just physically worn out, but genuinely, bone-deeply exhausted. He hides it well. Either that, or everyone else is far more focused on something else than on him, his injuries, his aftermath from the fight.
He doesn't blame them. He's focused on something else, too. Because now, with the Queen- with Ludmila- with what happened-
They can wake up Torse. His own injuries can wait. Marya had given him the heart, and instructions, and gone off to-
He didn't know what she was doing, actually. Her actions after the battle were her own choices. He trusted her to make them wisely - she had known Ludmila best, after all.
He also doesn't much care, not when-
Torse is in front of him. The iron heart is in his hands. He just has to- He needs to- He can-
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
26 Nov 2025