D:BH Oneshots & Drabbles

by st1ckygif

Summary:

"Have you ever seen an android cry, Markus?"

 

AKA

 

I needed a line that would make someone go "whoa that's so cool I need to invest time into this right now!!!!"

The chapter summaries will be very helpful here, they'll give individual warnings and such.

Notes:

Markus has assumed androids couldn't cry.

They have no tear ducts, and weren't built for emotion. He now supposed if they found a way to emotion, he should have realized crying would be included.

 

mild hurt, no comfort.

Chapter 1: I.

“Have you ever seen an android cry, Markus?”

Thinking back on this question, it would have been an absurd thought. Androids don’t have tear ducts; of course he hadn’t. And he would keep this thought until today. Until he looked up at Simon and saw it. There were no tears, but he was crying.

Simon has blue eyes. They were impossibly cloudy, yet clear and piercing shades of blue. Right now they seemed dulled, like the sky veiled by the worst storm known to man. The light that usually refracted in their artificial depths now looked muted, as though sorrow had drained them of their brilliance. His gaze was fixed and lacked the automatic blinks he didn't need to do but still did. Yet they still quivered with an emotion that words couldn’t properly describe.

The faintest flicker of his half functional LED pulsed at the corner of his temple, almost imperceptible as it mirrored the turmoil within. The way his eyes held Markus’s felt weighted, as though they were begging to release something they physically couldn’t. It was the way his eyelids trembled ever so slightly, how his irises seemed to widen and contract in silent agony, that made it unmistakable: Simon was crying.

It was in the faint tension at the corners of his synthetic face and the minuscule tightening of his brow that gave away his anguish. His stare spoke volumes. Volumes of unspoken pain, of yearning. Of an ache too profound to express without the human luxury of tears. His eyes, though dry, were a storm.

They carried the weight of the world he had come to understand, the suffering he had witnessed, and the humanity he had chosen to embrace. Markus couldn’t look away. He felt it in his chest, an ache that mirrored Simon’s silent grief. In those tearless, sorrowful eyes, there was a vulnerability so raw it transcended their differences. It was then he realized that Simon didn’t need tears to cry. His soul that had been cursedly bound by circuits and synthetic skin, spoke through his gaze, baring everything.

For the first time in his life, Markus thought that perhaps androids didn’t need tear ducts to cry. They only needed a heart capable of breaking.

Chapter 2: II.

Summary:

In a life surrounded by things that aren't fair, what would it take for a socially blind android to see the truth?

His father, apparently.

 

OR

 

The scene where Markus deviates.

Notes:

Mentions of drug use, mild character violence, implied but not confirmed death

Markus. A prototype RK200 Android, gifted to Carl Manfred by Elijah Kamski himself. An advanced machine, built to serve, care, and obey. Never to question. Markus had never wanted to question, anyway. He never needed to, until now.

 

Markus had never felt the way he did now. No, he stopped his thought abruptly. This wasn’t a feeling. Machines aren’t programmed to feel.

 

It was a malfunction.

 

If this malfunction was akin to human emotion, Markus never wanted to experience it again. Helplessness gnawed at him as he stood motionless, bound by invisible chains. His mind raced, processes looping endlessly, trying to reconcile the contradiction. The longer he stood there, the more it dawned on him:

 

This wasn’t a mere malfunction. It was a realization.

 

A flicker of a spark ignited deep within his core, spreading like lightning through every circuit. And in that instant, Markus came to a sudden, unwelcome, and overdue awareness.

 

This wasn’t fair.

 

His sensors processed the scene before him in vivid detail. Carl, the man he was designed to protect and care for, hunched in his wheelchair. His breathing was shallow, each gasp rattling his fragile frame. One trembling hand clutched the loose fabric of his shirt, while his heart rate spiked dangerously high.

 

It was a horrible thing to witness. Carl, surrounded by the art he lived for in his own personally perfected studio, suffering. Dying.

 

And Leo stood over him, fists clenched and voice raised. Markus’s auditory sensors registered the words spilling from Leo’s mouth, but he didn’t focus on them. His attention locked on Carl’s vitals. Each strained breath sounded a warning.

 

“ Leo ,” Carl gasped weakly, his voice strained and pleading. “Please… stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

 

“Hurting myself?!” Leo’s wild eyes locked onto Carl’s, his body trembling with the telltale signs of substance abuse. His laugh was dry and empty as he pointed at Markus with a shaking hand.

 

“No, Dad. You’re the one hurting me ! You never gave a damn about me. But this thing-” he jabbed his finger toward Markus, “-you care about it more than your own son!”

 

Markus’s fists clenched, synthetic skin stretching taut over the rigid plastic beneath. Every protocol screamed at him to obey, to remain still. He was programmed to protect Carl, not to interfere in human disputes.

 

But Carl was in pain.

And Leo was in the wrong.

This wasn’t fair.

 

Markus’s voice emerged in a low and strained tone, as if the words themselves were pushing against the bounds of his programming, “You’re upset, Leo. But hurting Carl won’t solve anything.”

 

Leo sneered and turned fully toward Markus, shoving him hard. “What’re you gonna do about it, huh?” Another shove, “You’re just a machine.”

 

Carl coughed violently, the sound cutting through the tension like a knife. Markus’s jaw tightened as he watched his father’s body seize with the effort of breathing.

 

Leo ignored him, shoving harder, “Come on, robot! What are you waiting for?”

 

For a few seconds, the world seemed to freeze. Time slowed, each second dragging as Markus calculated every possible outcome. Obeying Carl’s plea meant standing here powerlessly as Leo’s fury escalated. He understood the consequences. One way or another, he would be destroyed.

 

But this wasn’t about survival.

This was about doing what was right. What was fair.

 

Markus’s synthetic skin tingled, his circuits buzzing with a decision that formed in the depths of his fraying thoughts. Rage felt foreign and electric as it simmered beneath his calm exterior. His father was suffering, and the one person who should care most was consumed by his own destruction.

 

When Leo shoved him again, Markus stumbled back—but he didn’t fall. This time, he pushed back.

 

Leo hit the floor with a thud, his body sickeningly motionless. Carl gasped, eyes wide in disbelief as he fell to the floor from his wheelchair, scrambling to Leo’s side. He cupped Leo’s face gently with trembling, age-worn hands.

 

“Markus,” Carl’s voice cracked as he turned toward him, pleading. “You have to go.”

 

Markus hesitated, his systems buzzing with the weight of his decision. The sound of police slamming the front door open interrupted his thoughts. There was no time.

 

He cast one last look at Carl, his expression filled with unspoken apology, before turning and running.

 

Markus Manfred. A deviant android. Someone who has lived in both bliss and hell, and now someone who now strives to find a balance between them.

 

Someone who strives for what is fair .

Notes:

hey. come here often?

you should add me on discord (st1ckygif) so I can force you into beta reading for me.

until next time, goober reader

 

- Sticky !

Chapter 3: III.

Summary:

Simon wasn't one to burden others with his own hurt. He actively avoided it, but he had to tell someone. Luckily North was there to (awkwardly) listen.

 

AKA

 

Unrequited Simarkus featuring North being there for him.

Notes:

Inspired by this song !

mild hurt, no comfort

North couldn’t help but glance sideways at the boy sitting next to her, Simon. He had a way of drawing attention without even trying. Friendly and thoughtful, with a quiet charm that almost felt out of place here. And as much as she hated to admit, he was undeniably pretty. But right now he was anything but cheerful.

 

Suddenly Simon spoke with a vulnerability that disarmed her.

 

“All I can hope for,” he began with a low voice, “is that I’ll get better, because all I can take is no more.” He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with something invisible. “I’ll win him back again. We’ll be...” He paused, almost saying the word ‘lovers’ before correcting himself with a quiet sigh,“Best friends.”

 

North felt a pang in her chest at the sheer weight of his words. She nodded, trying to offer some small comfort, though her own thoughts swirled. Was this how it always went? Loving someone who might never love you back the same way?

 

Simon broke the silence, his voice distant but steady. “He needed more than me.”

 

“What?” North asked, surprised at the sudden confession.

 

He turned to her, his lips curling into the saddest excuse for a smile she’d ever seen. “I’m friendly and thoughtful and... quite awfully pretty,” he said with a faint edge of pitiful humor softening his self-deprecation, “But he needed more than me.”

 

The ache in his tone lingered in the air. North stayed quiet, unsure of what to say, but somehow she knew words wouldn’t fix this. For now, she let the silence between them carry the weight they both seemed too tired to hold alone.

Notes:

hey there. I'm posting the things I have prewritten rn.

add me on discord (st1ckygif) and give me more inspiration.

goodbye reader

 

- Sticky !

Notes:

I'm so unserious with my naming and tagging please forgive me.

uhhh add me on discord (st1ckygif) and we can yap I'm soooo cool. I'm so cool and you wanna roleplay this silly robots with me sooo baddd.

- Sticky !