S/I: Sabrina | F/O: Luigi (Lou) | Established Relationship | WC: 527
For @lovekraft's October Selfship Collab
[K-Side]
Side by side, Lou and Sabrina wandered the grounds of her sisterās home. While the many trees on the property had been a sight to behold in their changing colors, they had inevitably coated the entire yard in reds and oranges and yellow-greens. The mess had been swept into large piles, into which her other sister was busy throwing her niece and nephew. Their laughter echoed through the air, serving as a backdrop to Lou talking animatedly to her about the differences between some pasta recipes heād found on a forum yesterday.
In the middle of a particularly exuberant sentence about sea salt, though, Louās foot caught on a tree root and he tripped, faceplanting into a bed of leaves. If he had actually gotten hurt Sabrina would have been more concerned, but the way he propped himself up and spit leaves out of his mouth showed her he was fine so she couldn't help but laugh at him.
Lou pouted at her, but he couldn't hold the expression for long and it wobbled into a sheepish grin. He flopped over, rolling onto his back and closing his eyes.Ā
Sabrina took a seat next to him, scooping up stray leaves and letting them fall onto his prone form. Louās lips curled into a smirk, and he grabbed a handful of leaves of his own and threw them in her general direction, opening his eyes to watch her laugh.
Since it didn't seem they were going anywhere anytime soon, Sabrina reached into her pocket and pulled out a bag of apple slices to snack on. She fed one to Lou, who made a face at the tartness of it. Sabrina made a face right back. Lou chuckled.
When the empty bag was stuffed back into her coat Sabrina knew they should be getting back to the house, before the kids overran their babysitters. She bent over to drop a kiss onto her husbandās face before standing, Lou sitting up as well. But when she offered a hand to help him stand, he took it and instead pulled her back down into the leaf pile with a mischievous grin. Sabrina frowned at him. Lou melted it with a kiss. She found she couldn't be too cross at him for this ridiculousness, now that she was laying in his embrace. She closed her eyes and sighed. Lou ran his fingers through her dark hair.Ā
The voices that had been floating across the yard started to fade as the others presumably went inside. One of her sisters yelled out a question towards them. The rumblings of Louās answering laugh shook her from the light doze she was falling into. Which was just as well, as Sabrina then sat up, turned away, and sneezed into her elbow.
Lou immediately tugged his scarf off to gently wrap it around her neck. Sabrina smiled gratefully at him as they stood. Grabbing his hand, she tucked into his side, resting a cheek on his shoulder. He was talking about making her hot chocolate, now, and she listened to the cheerful yet soothing tones of his voice as they made their way back towards the house.
It was a crisp fall day on a family vacation, and Sabrina was spending her time watching the kaleidoscope of colorful leaves sway in the wind. While she was grateful to be invited (and considered part of the family in the first place), she needed a break from the moreā¦boisterous personalities of the bunch. Kamek had followed her onto the forest path, which she didn't mind; his company was always welcome. He was sitting next to her now, nursing a drink she didn't remember seeing him buy. He had forgone his usual blue-hued uniform for an earth-toned skirt and cardigan combo she truthfully could not stop staring at; it was obvious Kamek had picked up on it, too, with how he periodically glanced at her sidelong with a smug smirk and a pleased blush. Heād learned to do this on purpose, and she was too enamored to be cross with him about it.
Sabrinaās eyes drifted back to Kamekās drink. āWhatās this?ā she asked, reaching out and tapping the styrofoam.
ā...A latte.ā
āWhat kind?ā
āā¦ā Kamek hunched guardedly over it.
Pouting at the non-answer, Sabrina leaned sideways so most of her weight was on him. He, of course, refused to acknowledge her continued needling, sipping his drink with a stoicness only betrayed by an amused crinkle to the corners of his eyes. Sabrina sighed in mock-defeat, pressing her face to the side of his neck; to that, Kamek stiffened with a choked gasp.
āThatās coldā¦!ā He complained, pushing her away.Ā
Laughing, Sabrina took the presented opportunity to dart in for a kiss. As she pulled away, she licked her lips in thought. ā...Pumpkin spice?ā she ventured; the way Kamek sputtered told her the guess was spot on.
Kamek scowled, turning away to hide the dusting of red resting high on his cheeks. āI-if you can have your donuts then I can have this soā¦! Iād better not hear anything from you!ā
āI wasn't gonna say anything!ā Sabrina protested, wide-eyed but grinning. āYouāre making me wish I'd brought some of those donuts out here to munch on, though.ā
āThereās still plenty left you can eat when we get back.ā The defensiveness bled from his shoulders as he settled back down. āWhich reminds me, we need to shake down the bakers for the recipe before we go home.ā
āā¦or we could ask nicely?ā
āYou already tried that, dear, and it didn't work.ā
āI donāt think your way will work eitherā¦ā
Kamek shrugged. āIf it doesn't ā though I'm sure it will ā then Iām sure Lord Bowser would jump at the opportunity to threaten someone.ā
ā¦Well, as long as she wasn't caught in the crossfireā¦
Sabrina sat upright on the bench, and Kamek in turn nestled into her side. She dropped a kiss onto the small spot on his forehead that wasn't covered by his hat and went back to watching the warm-colored leaves twirl about. She idly considered how nice of a drawing this scene would make as Kamek finished his drink, vanishing the cup with a splash of magic. He was drawing his sweater tighter around himself, Sabrina noticed, and she pulled him closer. Despite the warmth of his drink, he was probably still cold; chillier temperatures have never done him any favors, she knew, since he was used to warmer climates.
It was a simple decision to unwrap her scarf and wrap it loosely around his neck. She put her hands on his when he tried to take it off. āNo, keep it,ā she insisted. āIt's fine; Iāve been overheating a bit, anyway.ā
That something he could believe ā one of the few things that rivaled how warm she ran was her warmer disposition. But behind that warmth sat a firmness that told him trying to convince her to take the scarf back would be a waste of breath. So he didn't, and instead drew it up over his face. ā...Thanks.ā
The urge to kiss Kamek rose up once again, but if Sabrina followed through with that impulse then heād have to come out from under her scarf, and they couldn't have that. She settled for nuzzling him instead. He chuckled softly, and her heart swelled.Ā
In the ensuing quiet, Sabrina watched darkening clouds chase their lighter siblings across the sky. āDo you think itāll storm soon?ā she asked, a touch hopeful.Ā
āPerhaps. Iād rather not be out here to find out, though.ā Kamek hopped off the bench.
Sabrina rose as well, taking his hand and pressing it to her lips for a moment. āWe should start heading back, then,ā she agreed with a wink, and Kamekās face went ablaze.
āYouāre ridiculous,ā he sighed fondly, taking her offered arm.Ā
Warnings: Abuse (Heavily implied), Body/Gender Dysphoria, Angst, Aged up characters
Summary: Battle construct!Seele wakes up after a disastrous failed mission only to discover he was rescued by an all-too-familiar stranger.
for @lovekraft's October selfship collab! Enjoy some robot zombie apocalypse goodness for halloween š
The last thing I remember was the thousands of eyes gleaming in the dark. Blood red.
The air hung thick after the storm which delayed our advance, that night. The clouds drowned out the moon and stars, stained pitch, leaving naught for the skyward gaze but the endless abyss.
The fact I couldn't see Babylonia in the open air left a pit in my stomach, hindsight left me heeding it too late.
Forgive me, Terra always chided me for being too wordy, too poetic. He never had much patience for things he considered frivolous. There was four of us; three battle-ready constructs, the pinnacle of combat technology and human intuition, and our one stalwart defense against the virus: The commandant.
Terra was our shield. Always serious, dedicated to our cause with a fervor like faith.
Perseides was our salve. Erudite, analytical down to the last particle. Perpetually planning ahead, two steps forward.
Ulysses was our sanctuary. The stalwart figure we all depended upon. In my eyes my commandant could do no wrong.
Me?
I was the sword.
I remember the day they came to my parents' manor, still standing strong, far from the carnage. They spoke of how I was perfect for their construct program based on my test results, they spoke of how they could cure my fatigue, grant me focus and a sense of purpose, make me the best version of myself. They responded by slamming the door.
I heard the clamoring from my room and slowly receded back into my covers: I knew that's how they would respond. I knew they preferred to keep me as their frail, starveling little pet. Their pathetic house servant. Their quiet, obedient shadow; neither to be seen nor heard.
But as powerful as they were, Babylonia was stronger: They didn't need their signature when they already had mine.
With the recruiters I quietly slipped away, quietly proposed to them my body, my disgusting, abhorrent human body, and they quietly discarded it, as you do; They never had an easier operation.
My new construct body was refined, slender, and terrifyingly lethal. A viper with the righteous fury of a lost boy liberated; decorated with gradients of lustrous ink, sea green, sea foam white, opalescence. A beast in beauty's clothing I was. Will always be, thought I, stroking the long bayonet rifle at my hip.
It all felt so distant, that first high; that sense of power and control. I remember how Terra slapped me across my smug grin, and I remember how hard I laughed, even as Perseides vainly sought to console me, because I felt no pain.
I remember how, one day, I got her to laugh too.
We were squad Firefly; the first constructed platoon to be gifted with a commandant. Ulysses came to us humble, reluctant, but as a graduate of F.O.S, ready to serve regardless. I remember how he made me feel held, cradled, even in the midst of bloodshed.
It was all so long ago, and I knew, should've known, should've always suspected that it wasn't going to last. The memories flew by me in a blur. Was I dying? Did it even matter? Did it matter what I did? Did any of this matter? Why do we keep fighting for this place, anyway? There is no amount of destruction or reclamation that will truly bring back what we lost.
So I thought.
But I woke up, and everything suddenly mattered again. Because it fucking hurt.
It was cold, it was dark, and I was at present, absent an arm. I say at that moment because therin lied the worst part; I could feel it being fixed.
It. HURT. I was this close to snapping at my (rescuer?) with bared teeth, the outer plating of my throat scraped against my chords as I growled, and god damn it that hurt too.
"Just stay still for a little longer, please. . ."
His voice was soft, not unlike my commandant's, it soothed every nerve in my body, gave it a pleasant tingle. I couldn't see him, my head leaned on my good arm's shoulder, didn't even have the fuel to turn it.
"Who. . . ?"
"Who am I? . . . It's complicated. I imagine you'd have to see to believe it. But then again you might not even--"
He stopped himself mid-sentence, as if something caught his attention, something needed attending to. A second, two, and I finally felt the last of my wires lock back into place. Like a toy action figure, my arm's function returned as if it were never lost. Wondrous, truly. But alas I was still desperately low on fuel.
Hands, velvety like silk, clasped on my cheeks. I let out a gasp, and immediately choked on the second one as he brought my eyes to land on his.
"Do you. . . Recognize me?"
I almost didn't answer. Almost couldn't. So much of me wanted to chide that I'd be stupid for saying it out loud. But between the stark hair, with two distinct shapes poking out of it, and the sight of radiant red boots just barely in my field of vision:
"Astro Boy?"
He let out a strained, raspy laugh. Still lubricated by his syrupy voice. It twisted my stomach.
"I'd prefer it if you used my real name."
"Oh, sorry, Atom."
What was this? It's like I was back in that house, back to being Little Miss "yes, please, thank you, get out of my sight, spoiled brat" and I hated it. But one look at that face and the hatred just . . . melts.
"It's fine, really. It's just. . . It's been a while since I've talked to anyone." His eyes casted downwards to the concrete. "If you know me, know my name, then you probably know why it means so much to me, don't you?"
I did. Everyone did. Everyone knew the story of the Golden age's darling android hero. How he was built by a grieving father only to be abandoned for not being able to replace his son. Everyone knew and everyone felt so so sorry. I felt sorry, certainly. I spent my days locked in that west wing, ate my daily toast and peas, and was thankful. Grateful.
At least your parents didn't sell you to the circus. At least they didn't think you were that worthless. Somedays I wondered if he'd come to save me, most days I laughed at myself, for thinking there was anything for him to save me from. Either way, he never came.
I wanted to hate him for it. I wanted to hate him so, so badly. But I as hard as I tried I could never hate him more than I wanted him to hold my face like that again, look into my eyes like that again. I was tired, and he was warm and soft and tender.
Atom looked around, his hands finally leaving my face (why) and upon watching my head helplessly slump to my chest, his brow furrowed worriedly,
"Guess that answers that question; you're hardly in a state to walk. Hmn." He brought his fingers to his chin. I was rested against a square concrete pillar, in what seemed to be a parking garage. Long abandoned, I could spy the areas where the moonlight could reach us through the collapse of the upper levels, flowing down the icicles from the sparkling snow.
We were in the Arctic Sea. I remember that much, the fireflies were hired by the ARU to clear out the worst of the virus at this port and establish a foothold to install their manufacturing facilities, needed in order to finish development of their 'forest guard.'
We were at the end of the world.
Everyone else is dead.
The thought brought a smile to my face, twisted as the thought that bore it. Atom, poor sweet boy, he didnāt know what monster he had in his care.
Before I could really counter this notion I conjured, before Atom could attempt to figure out how to refuel me, before either of us could do anything, a horrible shuddering began to ring, to shake the firmament. It came from directly beneath us.
We learned the hard way that despite the desolation of this place, it still had more to lose.
Atom fell first, the floor caving in, sloping down from where he sat. I fell faster. I could see his arm outstretched, his soft eyes wide with unbearable terror, as everything else blurred and fell away.
I realized I never told him my name.
But I didnāt die, much as I believed I would, for some reason. It would take more than a fall to truly hurt either of us, but still. A fate worse than that awaited us: Down here, down in the pit, far beneath the ice, the infection ran thick.
My inver-device whirred under the strain, I felt my strength returning, the vague hope of dear Ulysses somehow being still alive, that this new system they set us up for would actually save me--
Heās still down here.
I whipped my head around to meet Atom, who had just finished inserting one of his spare electro-pods inside my frame- heās still down here and heās going to get infected--
It all felt so surreal, this far underground the parking garage gave way to a sort of shopping mall, the remnants of signs had their technicolor glow on the benches and the stagnant water of the fountains. Atomās soft brown eyes were the only thing not marked by the garish neon hellscape. The thought of Atom turning, of all the wretched people in this god-forsaken world, after all these years of everyone thinking he was dead, only to have the virus leave him just another mindless husk rotting down here where no light ever reaches, the horrible red robbing his eyes of any tenderness, mixing with the bruising violet, acid green and lifeless white--
I did not wait. Fifteen years. For him. To let this world take him from me.
I cried out to him, my legs finding stance as my hands pried at my Inver-device, trying everything to tear it from my unworthy head. The static drowning out the buzz of the fluorescence, the warnings in my head screamed.
But not as loudly as Atom did.
āWAIT! STOP! IāM NOT INFECTED!ā
His hands were stronger. No sooner had I heard him did I feel his palms flush against my wrists, pinning me to the cold marble wall. The few segments of it that werenāt cracked, or grown over with whatever weeds found solace in this darkness.
He stared directly into my eyes. . . and it finally hit me: God, God! He was beautiful! His eyes glowed gently, his desperation, furious and determined in equal measure, his rich, luscious black hair, with curls perfectly framing his face, long eyelashes, thick eyebrows, plush lips. . .
Hey!š Sorry for the random paragraph of text, but I wanted to say, I just read your post about selfshipping with a character frequently headcanoned as gay, andā¦ damn I needed to read that. Thank you. š„ŗ
Iām female with a male f/o who is headcanoned as gay by basically the entire fandom. Iāve loved and shipped myself with this character since I was very young, before I knew what LGBT+ or selfshipping even was (on/off for about 15 years at this point, like I still have all my crappy kid drawings of him), but recently Iāve been feeling bad about it, like I shouldnāt selfship with him because of the nearly unanimous headcanon that heās gay. Then I found your post and it made me feel a lot better.
Sorry for such an out-of-the-blue message, and I donāt mind if you respond or not, I just wasnāt confident enough to say this without being anon. Thank you for reassuring me that Iām not doing anything bad. I hope you have a wonderful dayš
nooo itās ok! i appreciate this much more than u kno. ik how it feels to let fanon control your selfships, it happens to me a lot more than iād like to admit, itās not fun. it truly sucks the love i have for that character because of what the fandom decided.
but then i remember the greatest thing about selfshipping is you can be as self indulgent as you want, no one can stop you from doing anything, only if you let them! youāre selfshipping w them so youāre allowed to headcanon them whatever you want and any sane person cannot tell you itās wrong.
glad i can help anon! please do your best to not let fanon ļæ¼interpretations selfship for you. ā¤ļøā¤ļø
