Wutsup92
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Summary
Humanity was for people without metal in their heads. Humanity was for people capable of thick empathy.
Nathaniel was a collaborative project assembled by the most expensive hands imaginable. His greatest fear was that someday, he would find all his fleshy parts replaced entirely by machine. He would look in a mirror and see none of himself.
He had to escape before that happened.
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A Sci-fi fic where Neil is broken and Andrew tries to fix him, but he soon learns he's using the wrong tools.
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Updates erratically -
You Made a Monster Out of Me by basicallymonsters
Fandoms: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
13 Mar 2025
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He realizes that everyone feels exactly the same way he does, filthy and buzzed and understood and angry. His eyes find Andrew again, sober but animated like the drums are a live wire and he’s electric.
He thinks, if he could be part of this, if he could stand in the middle of the stage in a garden full of monsters, and sing the audience’s veins open, he would never need another drink, or another moment on court.
Prompt: Andreil in a rock band setting – tattoos, harsh lighting, calloused fingers, Andrew’s sweaty arms, Neil’s striking blue eyes, someone’s excellent voice, an uncomfortable undercurrent of drug abuse.
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an acquired taste the asbestos is lovely by cyanica
Fandoms: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
29 Jan 2024
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“What did you take?” Andrew demands.
Neil wonders if Andrew will taste all that is wrong with Neil when he kisses him. He wonders if Andrew will recognize it. Andrew knows what it is to hurt himself, and this must be familiar. It’s deja vu, Neil thinks, if only a little bit worse, a little more terrible.
Neil shakes his head, groaning into the toilet, “I don’t want to tell you.”
Andrew pulls out his phone, and Neil can already hear it dialling when he says, “You can tell the paramedics.”
Or; “Cigarettes,” Neil says. “I ate your cigarettes.”
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Bookmarked by Wutsup92
02 Dec 2025
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"GREAT! Just great! As if this could GET any better!" Zanka bites out, seething. Of course he's stuck here, injured, in a damp, dirty cell, and of course he's stuck here with fucking Jabber of all people.
Jabber whistles appreciatively, "Man, you're in a mood today. Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" and cackles at his own joke. Zanka's gonna strangle him. He's gonna rip out those bars with his bare hands and use them to beat Jabber to death.
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Zanka is taken by some people who want to study givers. Jabber is there too. This somehow makes everything both better and so much worse.
Disclaimer: do NOT feed my work into generative AI or I will fucking GET you.
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Bookmarked by Wutsup92
30 Oct 2025
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“I think he’ll come to you,” she concludes. “Each person experiences attraction and sexuality in a unique way. It is possible there’s a kind of fear there, something foreign and unfamiliar to him.”
Andrew mulls this over in his head. He thinks of Neil’s lingering gazes, of the recent reappearance of that warm blush on the tops of his cheeks. He considers, also, the inherent vulnerability of allowing oneself to be desired, and the shamelessness of desiring another. It’d make sense that Neil, both rabbit and fox, immense in his attempts to make himself minuscule, would be wary of something so terrifying.
Alternatively: On Neil Josten’s apprehension regarding his own attraction to Andrew Minyard, told by Andrew’s increasingly flustered and consistently perplexed point of view.
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- English
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- 19,565
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by Wutsup92
22 Sep 2025