kittygraft
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abandoned for now
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Banhammer was definitely going to put lipstick on more often.
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One last goodbye maybe would've made this hurt less. A lot less.
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Medkit loathes asking for help, even if he needs it. Like tonight. But that's fine.
Not to Banhammer, though.
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- Part 1 of requested fics
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help mee this was my forst fic DO NOT READ THIS. i need to rewrite this so bad
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- 1,405
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There’s the sound of a tail thumping against the sand. By some depravity still lingering in his bones, the ache in Firebrand’s body burns at the thought of seeing them disappear once again into that dark tunnel. Hurts him enough to grit teeth. Firebrand, desperate to not want them to leave, lets a pitiful noise from his mouth that he wouldn’t have allowed otherwise.
He croons. Hears the rumble echo throughout the cave, of all things loud enough to make them pause in their step. It’s a far cry from his usual growl— all too desperate and warm to resemble an awfully content hum. Katana freezes in the doorway. An arm rests on the hilt of his sword, unmoving but not untensing either. Where Katana’s sole back gives no hint of a reaction, Medkit fills any details of thought with the way his eye is widened into a dotted pupil. There’s the slow turning of the teal demon’s head.
“..Is there something we missed?” Katana murmurs.
Or, wasting away in the depths of Lost Temple, Firebrand is disgraced and most of all .. sick.
Katana and Medkit try helping him out.Series
- Part 3 of cm pile
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“.. I wanted to say that you have done a lot for this community with your presence,” He starts and immediately, words come to your head. As much as you’d like to blindly agree, what brought you here was your own solace, that biting cold. You don’t allow yourself anything other than the idea that it was solely luck that happened to guide your self determined selfishness. Only because you’ve kept us warm. Only because you saw something in this city. Only because you gave us a chance at all, you think. And, somehow, your tongue manages to slip.
Until the end, you are devoted.
A story that follows a Firebrand Follower witnessing the beginning, the end, and the beginning once more.
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His coat is a mess of wrinkles from how tight he’s clutching it. The landscape in front of him shifts into a blur of white and gray, unable to focus on any part in particular. He thinks he hears the whisper of someone calling his name —And then suddenly, he feels a warm presence at his side.
“Biograft, what are you—?“The machine cuts him off, “MY SYSTEMS ALERTED ME THAT YOUR BODY TEMPERATURE IS DANGEROUSLY LOW. I’M WARMING YOU UP.”
Through unforeseen circumstances, Biograft and Hyperlaser get stranded in the snow together.
Series
- Part 7 of blackrock shenanigans
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A collection of short drabbles between these three. Plot is not mandatory
Series
- Part 1 of cm pile
Bookmarked by kittygraft
03 Apr 2025
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Out of the corner of his eye, something glints in an alleyway.
A tipped over trash can —No, a Biograft is tucked into some dingy alleyway. A sizable piece is torn from its chest plating, while its head lays limp against the wall. The lights aren’t on, so he assumes that it's either dead or dying. A pathetic display, really. He’s better off booking it back to Banlands before the storm decides to get any worse.
Banhammer doesn’t move. An inch of space is not taken.
Maybe, just maybe, he feels an ounce of sympathy for the hunk of metal. Its frame is curled into a fetal position against the walls of the grimy alleyway, still trying to preserve itself even in his last moments. The damaged silver plating stands out against the dirt like a sore thumb...Maybe, he should take it back. Public service —people shouldn’t be leaving their junk out on the side of the road anyways.
or, a more literal take on "Found family."