17 Bookmarks by 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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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
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Science and progress (do not speak as loud as my heart) by enby_potato
Fandoms: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
20 Sep 2025
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Torse was strong, direct, and literally had a heart of gold. Max knew as soon as they formalized their friendship that he wanted more. He hadn’t known it was possible to fall for an automaton, but perhaps Zood was unique. Perhaps it was Torse.
**Starts out as a Maxwell character study and morphs into Morse (that's what I always intended it to be but I really love Maxwell)
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
26 Nov 2025
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great, unstable mass of blood and foam by Dansnotavampire
Fandoms: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
05 Sep 2025
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Torse is flat on the deck, gears audibly sticking against each other, clicking slowly in his chest. His heart glows only faintly, and the light of his visor flickers and dims, only the barest hint of gold remaining.
Maxwell runs over to him. He can do nothing else.Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
25 Nov 2025
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Maxwell wouldn’t call himself “repressed”, he was simply a gentleman who knew very well the laws of hospitality and public decency when sharing a skyship with a group of pretty much strangers. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t touched himself since before landing on the Macleod farm, he definitely wasn’t feeling the kneading punches of sexual frustration every night, and no way in Gotch’s blue skies was the sexy metal rebel that bled strength and stoicism making it so much harder, absolutely not.
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
25 Nov 2025
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cold blows the wind by Dansnotavampire for Otterlyobsessed (Recycleflowers)
Fandoms: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
12 Sep 2025
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The children of Zern do not dream. They are not made capable of it, they do not need it, if they are left bereft of hearts they merely stand silent and sentinel until such an organ-machine is replaced. Torse is no different - he does not dream. Not technically.
The children of Zern can move a little without their hearts, for merely a few moments after the removal. Torse had told this to the crew of the Zephyr, upon meeting them.
He had not told them other things; due to some unknown cruelty, even disanimate, the children of Zern can hear. They can feel. They retain some distant awareness of light and dark, though not true sight. Forever doomed to be on the outside of a moving world, to know exactly what they are missing. Torse can distantly hear the crew of the Zephyr partying, drinking, without him. Ignore that he cannot drink - ignore that he fears what his iron heart would have him do - ignore that were he there, he would likely leave, too much noise and too many social rules to follow. Allow him some slight misery. Currently he has little else.
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
25 Nov 2025
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Who was he to argue with facts? With Torse?
Torse, the metal man with a wind-up heart, who was standing on the deck of his ship. Torse, who was still absolutely caked in gore and viscera from the shoulders down, and Maxwell, whose priorities just shifted so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.
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Sometimes a first date consists of a robot, an autistic man and a sponge bath in the back of an airship.
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
24 Nov 2025
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Torse’s shoulders are tense and pensive. His arm falls back to his side. Maxwell is not the most physical of people (besides in the ring), but his fingers twitch and stay where they are. Touching metal is different than the heat and pressure of skin.
He swallows thickly. With his thumb resting on a weld line, all he can think to say is: “What does it feel like?”
Torse pauses curiously. “What does what feel like?”
“Your heart, when you change it. When you switch from gold to iron.”
Torse turns his head down, towards where his heart’s softly glowing light illuminates Maxwell’s fingertips. He is quiet for some time. Then he meets his eyes again. “Like fire,” he decides.Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
24 Nov 2025
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Maxwell felt…strange.
Not bad, necessarily. As far as he could tell, he wasn’t in any pain. But he didn’t feel particularly good, either.
Mostly he just felt a whole lot of…nothing.
That in itself wasn’t strange. Maxwell would be remiss to call himself an emotional man. He was a passionate one, however, and typically this time after a fight would be spent mentally going over each second of battle, relishing in the spiderwebs of pain that still stretched over his cracked knuckles.
But now? Now he wasn’t even positive that the hands he was looking at belonged to him.
It was all just very…strange.
Or: Maxwell (doesn't) deal with his newfound bloodlust. Van helps.
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
24 Nov 2025
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"What The Dog Doin'?" Her Fucking Best by Orion844
Fandoms: Hunter: The Parenting (Web Series)
31 Aug 2025
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Instead of going to therapy I made a self-insert OC so I can hang out with Marckus & Kitten. Self-indulgent trash. If you catch me selfshipping with both of them later in the fic, mind your business. This is what happens when you experience horrific loneliness as a child.
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
14 Oct 2025
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I don't need a parachute, baby, if I've got you.
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
02 Oct 2025
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The woman laughs, her eyes crinkling behind her silver cat-eye glasses. "You must be Eliot,” she says, cheerfully. “He warned me you were charming. Where is he?”
Eliot’s stomach drops as he realizes that this is a terrible fucking mistake, because this ain’t a random elderly woman showing up to collect cans or take up donations or whatever it is that elderly woman in weird fucking places like Portland do. This is Hardison’s nana, and Eliot has just opened the door to the apartment—to Hardison and Parker’s apartment—like he lives there.
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- English
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- 9,536
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
01 Oct 2025
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"We do this not because it is easy, but because we thought it would be easy"
A completely normal tutorial for making a digital timer on ao3.
Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
27 Jul 2025
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Closed Loop System by One_of_Them (greenbean_paste)
Fandoms: The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells
29 Jun 2025
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Unit Communication Log:
SecUnit Two: Atmospheric conditions optimal.
SecUnit One: ...
SecUnit One: Indeed.- Language:
- English
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- 1,532
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- 1/1
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- 3,925
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Bookmarked by vryptid (cryptidlibrarian)
27 Jul 2025