FMS ONESHOTS!!!!

(TR) sun and moon

HELLO HELLO HI I COOKED SO HARD W THIS CHAPTER PLESDE READ IF UR A BUGDUO FAN IM SO PROUD OF IT HEHEHE :33

also TW!!! character death, past implied abuse, violence and blood, and similar themes.

(btw I post more on ao3 now than I do here!!! my user is mantarobbin)

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( The sun is something that burns brightly, smothering hot to the very gaze. Of course, it better to just glance the other way from it, the idea of approaching such a thing is a death wish. )

The dry, yellow grass brushed against his boots as Elite dragged the robot across the field. Vines and small bits of nature were growing against the ruins, but there weren't any other signs of life besides him- did the robot count as something that was alive?

It didn't matter to Elite. He'd had enough craziness for one day, he didn't need to dig into philosophical worries about how a hunk of metal thought and breathed.

'Fuck this stupid robot, fuck this day, fuck-' He cursed out everything he could under the sun, barely keeping aware of his surroundings. It was all just ruins, red, and even more red, especially over there against the-

Elite paused, much to the relief of his aching limbs. He saw something just a tad more vibrant against the ruins. Once he spotted it, he saw the individual curls and knots of red hair that was hidden behind a building, and the small shakes of crying that made them vibrate ever so slightly.

Silence, as always. Elite couldn't hear M crying, of course. Nobody could. He stared for a minute, and M turned around in a flash as the Assistant's arm slipped out of Elite's hand. His metal skull hit the ground with a soft thud.

The second M turned, his entire body posture changed within seconds. Confusion, shock, and fear passed in his eyes, and one of his hands reached to his sword out of instinct, then paused, then continued to stare.

".. great." Elite spat it out, narrowing his eyes to M. Oddly enough, his posture and gaze changed again when Elite spoke. He looked confused; more now than ever.

'Fuck this stupid day.'

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( The moon looks docile, many see it as such. It's almost like a toy, how you can almost float on it. Yet, it's more than that. It watches the water, and follows the sun with a close hand. It's use of being a plaything does not undercut how cold it is, how that frost can bite at what isn't ready for it. )

The fire burned brightly under the moonlight, and all M could do was lie against the grass. Barely an hour ago, he held a sword to Elite's throat, and now they were sleeping a few feet from each other. It was almost like a funny joke, how horrendous; A final survivor and the killer of a species sleep by a campfire together.

M stared back and forth to him. He analyzed every little thing about him. There was a scar across his face- no, worse than that- it stretched to the start of his ear and the edge of his nose, and ran up and down his face perfectly. Nasty and horrible.

Twisted had said he'd taken out one of the Elite's eyes, but M never believed to that extent. He never got told the details, anyways.

Soon enough, his gaze wandered to the Assistant. His rusted, metal body still had vines on it, flesh was still poking out. The professor was still in there, and if the Assistant was still alive somehow, he had to be too.