Another Billy angst idea:
Anby isn’t able to block the attack the Dead End Butcher made towards Billy near the end of chapter one, and he gets badly injured as a result.
to the surprise of absolutely no one, i cried myself sick the other day [9/13/24] BUT I'M BACK ON MY BULLSHIT NOW BABYY
-> i'm fine, by all accounts, it was just dehydration and nausea dw :D
this is the oldest request in my log, and it's over a month old, so i sincerely apologize for keeping you waiting :{
i hope you all enjoy!!!
"Take 'em out in less than 10 seconds with a flying kick!"
Anby never understood how Billy had so much energy during their raids. It was infectious, bright in the way it soothed that constant fluttering in her chest that drove the weapon to observe, observe, observe-
Billy had horseshoes on the heels of his sneakers.
Is what Anby chose to focus on instead.
"They won't even have time to play their theme song!" the android prattled on, striking a pose that looked straight out of comic book with the way the purple lightning glinted off his plating.
Purple-?
There was no thunder, no pleasing smell of ozone, no crash as the lighting hit the ground. Her sword filled in the blanks.
"Behind you-"
"Billy-!"
cRrk.
Oils splatters against her cheek.
"My... predictions were.. out- ...predicted.."
thump.
Anby can't breathe.
She's stuck, rain plip-plip-plipping against her useless nose and hands and her body that couldn't even raise her sword in time to-
"You big dummy!" Nicole screeches, somewhere behind the frozen girl, and she agreed.
Dumb. Slow- stupid, every synonym out there wouldn't be enough to properly convey just how badly the weapon had fucked up.
Her- It's best friend was laying there. On the ground. And here it was staring at the sky with a useless sword.
"This not the time for end credits, Billy! Wake up."
The android remains motionless, with his life staining Nicole's skin and shirt and Amillion and the weapon's pretty sure the heels of it's high tops.
crEak.
Cold fingers- mechanical fingers- wrapped themselves around it's ankle.
"Bre- eathe.. Anby..."
Her sword clattered against the ground.
"I'm sorry," the smaller Demara is by his side like a fly on a shiny piece of fruit, chest heaving with the ability to take in air again, "Billy-"
He looks terrible.
A giant- amalgamation of street signs and lights and engines and blades lay embedded in his chest and lower stomach, greedily spilling his life into the crack it forms below his figure.
If they didn't get him out of here soon-
thump.
Billy's hand released her ankle- warm yellow eyes nothing but carved glass.
With two handfuls of bright red leather, the weapon sheds tears for the first time in nearly two decades.
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when they say silly billy, this is what they mean
i love this trio they’re so cute
(i’m thinking abt adding zzz to my fandom list)
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