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wolveria · 3 years

Text

Inside Your Wires - Ch 6

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter summary: Connor gets his new assignment. He's not thrilled.

AO3

Story moodboard by @uh-kitty-got-wet

Chapter 5 art by @semains (18+ only)

November 6th, 2038

Saturday 09:56AM

There was a time when Connor didn’t have to come in on Saturdays. He remembered the days when mandatory overtime was few and far between.

Not anymore. 2038 seemed to be the year shit just kept happening, and now that he thought about it, quite a few of it seemed to be because of androids. Ones gone missing. Disobeying orders. And now, homicidal.

Connor rubbed the bridge of his nose after putting his car into park, regretting how enthusiastically he’d hit the bottle last night. It wasn’t too bad this time, just an annoying throbbing behind his eyes, but it made it more difficult to see and he’d had to squint through his windshield.

Whatever. The reason for his shame-drinking was no longer relevant. Connor just had to survive until lunchtime, and if he were lucky, Hank would let him go early. He tried not to itch at the butterfly bandages on his cheek, applied himself after he’d woken up in a haze with blood on his pillow having completely forgotten the injury existed.

Connor kept his head down as he walked through the lobby of the station and through the security checkpoint to the bullpen proper. He tried not to be completely antisocial, however, and sent weak smiles at the coworkers who bothered to notice he was there.

Helen, Alexander, and Rupert all acknowledged him with various degrees of warmth, some colder than others, and all pretty much deserved. Ralph gave Connor a nervous smile from his chair, though it quickly faded as his eyes flickered to something across the room.

Frowning, he followed Ralph’s eye line across the bullpen and scowled when he spotted Colin leaning casually against Connor’s desk, talking to… someone. He couldn’t see who, Colin’s figure blocking them from view.

Against his better judgement, Connor drew closer, pressure building at the back of his neck, an uneasy feeling of dread that increased with each step.

“Con’s just gonna love this. But seriously, if he bitches about it too much, or gives you a hard time, you can always partner up with me. I won’t mind one bit, promise.”

Connor would have rolled his eyes at his brother’s typical cocksure demeanor, but instead, he went stock still at the familiar voice that answered.

“While the offer is appreciated, Lieutenant, my instructions stipulate that I must assist Detective Anderson with his new, specialized caseload. I’m sure you can understand that CyberLife only wishes to cooperate with the DPD and does not want to interfere with police procedure—“

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The YN800 model blinked and turned its head to meet Connor’s eye, its little blue light blinking for a moment before solidifying again.

It was sitting in Connor’s chair.

“It’s good to see you again, Detective,” it answered, chipper as ever as a fake smile graced its features.

Connor looked the prototype over, his nose crinkling at its appearance. The suit must have been brand new, there were no stains or bullet holes, and her—its hair was once again pinned upwards into a perfect knot.

He felt his insides churn at the near slip, at thinking for even a split second that this thing was a person. Shoving down the crude thoughts of the night before, Connor gave the order through gritted teeth.

“Get. Up.”

The prototype did as it was told, for once. It rose out of his chair, not even having the decency to look chagrined as it straightened its jacket of nonexistent wrinkles.

“I’m sorry, Detective, but I tried to call your phone and left you a message. It was not my intention to surprise you—“

“Oh, no, it’s never your intention to do anything, is it?” Connor snarled back. His headache was in full force now, and he swore he could see the bright lights of the station brighten in time with his heartbeat.

“Aw, c’mon!” Colin slapped him on the shoulder. “Be nice to the temp.”

“Temp?” Connor answered, voice pulled as taut as a wire.

“Yeah, you know. The temporary assistant. The new girl. The—“

He shoved Colin’s hand off his shoulder, leveling a glare at both of them. Colin merely shot him a shit-eating grin while the YN800 stood there, hands clasped behind its back at parade rest, polite and perfect as ever.

“Connor!”

All three of them turned toward the voice booming across the room.

“Get in here!”

Connor glared at the android, as if Hank’s shouting were its fault, which was probably the case.

He turned without a word and stalked to the captain’s office, shoulders hunched as his heart raced and his hands shook at his sides. He let the glass door fall shut behind him, but when he didn’t hear the whoosh of it close, he glanced over his shoulder to see the YN800 had followed him inside.

Great.

Connor stood in front of the desk with his arms crossed.

Hank sat down in his chair, pointedly looking at the chairs in front of his desk. Connor remained standing.

The older man glared, answering Connor’s attitude with a look and a heavy sigh.

“Bet you’re wondering what that’s about.” Hank jerked his chin over Connor’s shoulder. The prototype had taken a spot at the back of the office, observing politely with its hands clasped in front of its hips.

“Yeah, I am.” Connor was a little too cranky this morning to try a more diplomatic approach. “What the hell is it doing here?”

“I’ll get to that. First on the docket, I got a shit ton of android-related cases filling up our database every day and I’m at wit’s end.” Hank took a deep breath, bracing himself as he met Connor’s eye. “Which is why I’m assigning all of these cases to you.”

“You’re what?”

Connor stared at him, dumbfounded.

“You think that case last night was a one-off? We’ve got more android-related crimes rolling in, including assaults and homicides just as bad as the Ortiz case, and right now, you’re the one with the most experience.” Hank leaned his elbows on his desk as he leveled a formidable glare his way. “Is that going to be a problem, Connor?”

“Yeah, it is a problem, Hank! Why the hell do I have to do this? What about Colin? He was with me at the crime scene and was there for the interrogation!” Connor shoved a finger at the glass wall to prove his point.

Hank’s jaw tightened. Connor had seen that behavior enough times to recognize how he was pushing his luck.

“CyberLife asked for you specifically.”

“What?” Connor blinked, dumbfounded once again, racking his brain but coming up empty. “Why?”

“The hell if I know!” Hank barked back, rising to his feet as he pointed a finger at Connor, “and frankly, I don’t give a damn. Colin’s got enough on his plate—“

“—and I don’t?” Connor interrupted, scowling. Hank sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, and Connor almost felt guilty for his outburst.

Almost.

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you implied.” He tried not to sound like a hurt child, but, well, that’s exactly what he sounded like.

“For fuck’s sake, Connor! There are more people that are gonna start dying from this!”

“Yeah, I know, but—“

Hank lifted his hand, palm forward, effectively shutting Connor up.

“You saw what one of those deviants was capable of last night, and that was with three of you and another android trying to get it under control! You think the average person stands a chance against one of these fucks? That a little ol’ grandma can defend herself against the murderous robot gardener coming at her with a pair of shears? What the hell happens when a nanny bot decides to take a human kid for itself? Oh, wait, that’s already happened, and you would know that if you checked the goddamn case files I sent you!”

Connor was silent as Hank deflated. The older man leaned back against his desk as he looked through his glass wall out over the bullpen. His voice was rough but much quieter for the next round.

“We’re totally in the dark, Connor. We don’t know how bad this is gonna get and how many androids we’re dealing with. This has the potential to turn into a fucking nightmare with Detroit as ground zero.” Hank’s gaze drifted over Connor’s shoulder to the elephant, or the machine, in the room. “CyberLife was gracious enough to send us a state-of-the-art prototype until this issue is contained. It’s gonna be your partner until such a time that these androids are no longer a threat, and then you’re free to go back to being a misanthropic son-of-a-bitch as much as you like.”

Connor was thoroughly shamed by the end of Hank’s speech, that old familiar feeling of disappointment making his gut roil with nausea, but his anger hadn’t entirely flagged. He clenched his hands tightly to his thighs, fingers desperate for either his coin or his cigarettes.

Connor hadn’t felt the need for one in months. This was bad.

“Hank,” he tried again, his voice soft and pleading in that way he knew Hank couldn’t ignore. “I’m not saying this just to be a pain in your ass. I understand the stakes, but I genuinely believe I’m not qualified for these types of cases. I’m not a CyberLife technician, or an AI specialist, or a computer engineer. I’ve never even owned an android.”

That last one was technically true but only in the barest sense, and Hank gave him a knowing look. It wasn’t without sympathy, and his own answer was given with more kindness than he probably deserved.

“I know, Connor. I also know you’re the sharpest pair of eyes on the force, not to mention the quickest brain and the best instinct. You see shit other people don’t, even Colin, and you’ve got this creepy knack for taking one look at a person and knowing what makes ‘em tick. I’d say you’re almost like an android yourself, but I know how much that’d piss you off.”

Connor gave him another narrow-eyed scowl, and Hank immediately put up his hands as a sign of surrender even as a smirk played on his lips.

“My point is, I need you on this, son. I know it’s not ideal, hell, it downright sucks, but I know you can do this. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

And there it was. As effective as Connor’s pleading expressions could be, they were nothing in comparison to his need for Hank’s praise. The old geezer knew it, too.

And throwing a “son” into the mix was a goddamn dirty move, but Connor couldn’t even muster up annoyance. He just sighed, gave Hank the smallest hint of a smile, and said, “All right. But only until these cases are solved. Once the deviancy issue is addressed, the prototype is going back to CyberLife and you never give me an android case again.”

“I’ll pay for the postage to ship it back myself,” Hank said, smile wide and pleased as he patted Connor on the shoulder before returning to his desk. “And I want daily reports on the progress you and your new partner are making. Gotta make sure CyberLife’s best is pulling its weight.”

“I can assure you, Captain Anderson, I am worth every penny. And considering it took a small fortune to build me, I—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Hank interrupted the prototype, using that catchphrase that Connor and all of his brothers had picked up years ago. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

The android blinked almost comically before giving a slow nod. It then turned to face Connor, straightening its back at attention, and he rolled his eyes. He was still being handed the shit end of the stick, but he couldn’t deny that the cases were piling up and Hank really did need the extra help.

But why, out of all the androids in the world, did it have to be one like that.

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Connor turned and left Hank’s office, not waiting to see if the android would follow, knowing with a sinking feeling, it would.

Next Chapter

#connor x reader #human!connor x reader #human!connor x android!reader #connor x android!reader #inside your wires #my fanfiction #my writing

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multiplefandomsblog · 3 years

Note

your roommate hcs are so cute, can i request for naib, demi, tracy, andrew, kurt, patricia, and victor?

:0 holy crap yes! I’m so glad you enjoyed the roommate hcs!! Me and the other mods hope you enjoy these! Thank you for requesting :))

(i added melly because why not? lmao hope you don’t mind.)

Part 1!

Naib Subedar

This man deadass didn’t know you were living with him

Even when people told him about it, he wasn’t rlly paying attention and didn’t rlly care

Your stuff in his room? He thought it was his or someone just broke into his room and left it there

When he saw you on the toilet however, he just freaked out.

“Why the hell are you shitting in my room!?” “Your room? I’ve been living here for 2 months!”

Once he found out you lived with him, he made sure you knew what was his and what was yours

also, since he’s very protective of his things-- you being one of them-- he would totally get jealous if he caught you tallking to someone that wasn’t him.

he would probably give you the silent treatment and act like a pissy baby

He hates it when you touch his stuff

especially his photos, the photos were special to him because they were of him and his army friends.

You’d sometimes catch him looking at the photos with a longing in his eyes, it was highkey sad.

having you live with him meant lots and lots of training

he made sure you were always prepared for matches and that you don’t get downed early

when you got downed early however, He would scold you but he would still rescue you anyways because he’s soft

“You’re such an idiot, you’d better do better next time! Or else I’ll kick your ass.”

one time he got cocky while kiting because you were watching him

he forgot to turn on his elbow pads and face palmed into the wall.

“...You saw nothing.” He turned around, a bit woozy from hitting his head on a wall. He flipped the hunter off before stumbling wooshing away

When you first get to know naib, he’d probably come off as intimidating and menacing

but once you get to know him--the real him--, you start to understand that even though he may be tough on you, its because he wants you to be the best

he has good intentions

During matches he’d let you handle yourself and made sure you didn’t rely on him too much

One time you needed to shower but you ran out of your shampoo so you used his.

When he questioned you, you simply responded “What? You don’t need it anyways, you’re bald!”

He didn’t rescue you the next round.

should’ve seen that coming

though he forgives you when you braid his luscious long existent hair for him

Kurt Frank

The amount of times you almost stepped on this man is astronomical.

he would constantly be in his tiny form because he would lose a lot of his things

his tiny form helped him find his things easily

Though when you first moved in with him, you had no idea what his ability was

so when you first saw a tiny version of your roommate you thought he was just a weird doll

until you heard him say a tiny, “Hey can you move your ginORMOUS foot? You’re stepping on my book.”

You fucking screeched and took off your shoe to try and kill him

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

After he explained to you about his ability you calmed down a bit and spared this tiny man but only this time!

Frank loves books, he probably filled your shared rooms with stacks on stacks of books

You’d often see him tiny, waving at you while you’re decoding

Once you overhead Kurt arguing with First Officer over who was the rightful owner of some sort of treasure map

They fought for days,

kurt would constantly complain about it to you

turns out it was just a game on the back of a Cereal box.

sorry this is short like kurt

Tracy Reznik

Would be a little awkward at first, but the awkwardness slowly fades away when you both make bad jokes

she gives me childhood best friend vibes

Has her doll sitting in the corner of your shared room room, it’s lifeless eyes scare the living shit out of you in the dark you try not to make eye contact, afraid it’ll curse you or smth

if she was mad at you she would move the bot in a way that looked like it was flipping you off you off in your direction before you went to bed.

Always making little robot things that are super fun to play with

Loves sharing her things. Has no problem with it

you wanna wear her clothes? sure

you want to wear her underwear? evEN BETTER-

Pulling all nighters, trying to get her machines to work like how she wanted it to work.

Would live off of kraft Mac n cheese and junk food in the modern day

Pretty hyper, chugs pink monster energy drinks while pulling all nighters, also, in the modern day

would probably be a bruh girl

Her room is a mess, covered with blueprints and scrap metal

her room is practically a safety hazard

Sometimes she dresses her doll up a bit, putting wigs or her old clothes on it (which scares you half to death)

Once she made her doll dress up like her

and you almost went up to it to ask what it wanted for dinner.

Has a photo of her and her dad

You never wanted to bring it up, worried it might make her upset :(

Sometimes she’d feel really guilty about being downed in the first 30 seconds

please comfort her, she feels super bad

She always relies on you to rescue her

She gets really happy and thankful when you body block for her but she still gets a bit concerned when you do it randomly

“i wasn’t even kiting-” “Protecc the mecc.”

Demi Bourbon

Always out at the bar

Smells like alcohol constantly

tipsy 24/7

she’s never 100% sober

You have to hold her hair out of her face when she comes back to your shared room to hurl

Likes bringing back hard vodka or weird flavoured alcohols back for you guys to get wasted try together

Room is bit cluttered, but she doesn’t have much in her room since she’s always out in bars or matches

Usually latches onto you like a parasite when she’s drunk.

it gets a bit awkward when her face is a bit close to yours,

“Are we about to kiss right now-? BLeurghgrhgherrgh.”“...*audible sigh*”

You’d go to her expecting her to heal you like a normal person but no

instead she shoves dovlin down your throat

She likes to do your makeup, and always adds a matching beauty mark

unless you don’t wear makeup, then she’d ask you to do hers

always loves how she looks afterwards

more than sometimes demi would get into bar fights,

so you know she’s about to throw hands when she starts takes off her earrings-

10/10 would fight for you <3

She’s gives me cool wine aunt vibes

Probably a lesbian too (check out our Demi smut fic ;))

Or bi, idk

Just straightn’t

She’s really good at hyping you up, especially when you’re taking shots

“CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG-”

Andrew Kreiss

Would be very shy at first, opens up a little when you get to know him

Totally a night owl, can’t sleep at night from all the guilt and “what if’”s

if you see this baby awake at night, hug him, he really needs it

You’ve never seen the other side of his face

How does he see with hair in his eyes?

He’s albino, which is super dope

Sometime you fear he’s thinking about burying you

You always see him thwacking Luca with his shovel

Barely talks

Room is moderate

He doesn’t want you to find out too much about him

He may seem bland, but he loves sweet food

You’d bake him cookies and other sweets

He’d act as if he’s not embarrassed and brush it off

“Are you blushing?”“No, I-I’m sunburnt.” “On your face?” “....I stare into the hot red sun sometimes because it eases me.”

to keep his lie going, every time he catches you staring at him he would fry his eye balls by staring into the sun until you left

partially the reason why he can’t see well

When he’s not looking, you stare at him while he’s eating the stuff you made because he looks so happy :’)

One time you found him down in the dumps so you made him a cup of coffee, and when you handed it to him you said-

“Depresso espresso?”

*sniff* ”..are you oka-” “IM NOT CRYING, YOU ARE”

he actually cried

it was such a nice gesture(?), that he started ugly crying

You’d ask him if he wanted hugs during matches when you see him get stressed

He’d be flushed and kinda confused

hug... him? why tho lmao

he’d definitely agree tho, to be fair, with some hesitation

if y’all ever cuddled in bed, i feel like he’d be a little spoon

poor boy needs the comfort, he wouldn’t mind if you wanted to be little spoon tho

he just wants to be close to you

Victor Grantz

You love playing with his dog, Wick

Super nice and polite, but a little guarded

The type to be too afraid to call people out when they do something wrong but would totally trash them in his head

You write him little letters everyday and leave them on his bed to make him happy :))

He’d a be a little spoon

Wick would always join you guys while cuddling

Kisses would be soft and gentle

Usually sends you the first letter in matches

Loves to cuddle

He bb 🥰

You always get him a birthday present AND a Christmas present

You also get a gift for Wick

He loves giving you surprise hugs

Likes to read with you while cuddling

Literally a cinnamon roll

Once he was eating a cinnamon roll

And you whispered

“C a n n i b a l i s m .”

He was very confused

and kind of scared- were you going to eat him?

Patricia Dorval

Room always smells like herbs

She could literally smoke weed and you’d think it’s some magical healing herb

it magically makes you feel better

Always there to stun the hunter when you’re ballooned

The mature one

Her room is organized, with boxes labeling what herbs and magic stuff that are in them

You were cooking dinner for the day and you accidentally used one of her fancy herbs in your soup

She didn’t realize until she tried the soup

She wasn’t mad just disappointed

She lectured you on how you shouldn’t touch her stuff or use it for cooking

Gotta admit tho, the soup was pretty good

she acts like the mom everyone wishes they had

totally the type to be like, “dude we should think this through.” before doing something risky

and then five seconds later, “cowABUNGA MY DUDES”

one time she caught kreacher leaving the mens washroom without washing his hands

seeing as she was the mother of this manor, she had to protect her children from diseases

so she yeeted her monkey skull at kreachers head, cleanly knocking him out

and everybody cheered.

Melly Plinius

When you heard melly was going to be your roomie, you couldn’t have been more excited.

you finally had a victim for the many insect pick up lines!

So you decided to make some good first impressions by waiting for her in your room.

so when she arrived to your room and greeted you, you happily greeted her back, and slipped in the pick up line.

“Hello, my name is Melly. I believe I will be your ro-?”“Yeah nice to meet you too, say, what do bees make?”

She kinda thought you were a bit rude so much for first impressions

“...Erm, honey?” she replied hesitantly

“YES DEAR?”

... okay maybe you weren’t thaaaat bad.

after that she kind of developed a teensy crush on you

so it was hard living with you because of her crush, since she was constantly flustered

you loved her reactions, she constantly got red.

it was funny watching her try to keep her cool and fail.

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enha-woodzies · 3 years

Text

➸ CHAPTER 9 | " THE SPACE BETWEEN US "

starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

warnings: very mild swearing; brief arguments

word count: 2.5k

taglist: @serendipitysung (betareader) @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @gyeraniee @fluffi @stxrryemxlys @jungwon-luv-bot-pt3 @lost-lepord-beanie @hyunsunge @hooniecore @thenoceurgirl @thonkingdeepo

[ PREV. CHAPTER ] | [ M. LIST ] | [ NEXT CHAPTER ]

START OF PARK SUNGHOON'S POV

I stood there at the side, leaning against the arched entrance. I never meant to eavesdrop in the conversation you were having with the firstborn of the Yang family. It piqued my interest upon hearing your troubles and impulsively decided to help you. To pass time, I guess… or to stall my father into giving me his magnificent title of a duke and have me marry some lady I don’t even desire to have.

Without any significant bargain in the offer, I suggested anyway with the thought that maybe this could help me look at myself the way everyone did before I made history with your brother. The physical bruises and scars we both afflicted on each other faded with time, but the torturous memory continues to haunt us. I may look fine around his presence, but he never had the slightest idea of how I curse myself every single night knowing I not only ruined him and his tender affections with Yena, but our budding and steadfast friendship as well.

I was heinous then. But I swear with my whole heart, I don’t ever intend to hurt you now the way I did with your brother. The moment I let myself drown in your alluring gaze under that brightly lit moonlight, I told myself I won’t take another girl for granted. Not just because I owe it to Niki, but because you were the first person who looked at me without judgment despite knowing your brothers detest me with the entirety of their souls.

I’ve been courting you for over a month now and I’m completely aware of the things we’ve agreed upon about the ruse; needless to say, one might catch feelings in the aftermath. I know this was all a show to give Jungwon a headstart for his own game, but why am I gravely pained every time his name slips out of your lips? Why do I keep myself up on most nights thinking about this lingering question of who do you love? Why do I want to hold you even closer to my side every time he looks at us in dismay?

I’ve come to know that I had myself caught in the middle of whatever this is between you and him; that I’m just the fuel to the fire that’s already been there, left neglected within time. But I can’t help but feel like I need to protect you from him; from whatever hurt he might cause you over time. Although I know my place in all of this and where I stand, it still stings thinking that it isn’t in your heart.

Why would it be, anyway? I’m only just a page you couldn’t keep; a filler in your romantic novel who had the part of the villain origin story but couldn’t fight your hopeless hero. Sadly, Jungwon’s five steps ahead of me. So much for telling the ton there was us in the making, but you weren’t even mine to begin with.

Your mother invited me and the Yang family for dinner a sennight ago. She said it was to properly introduce me as your husband-to-be to your family, that includes your lover’s sitting across the table discussing the recent blow from the Daily Tattle, which was, of course, us.

“Jungwon, dear, have you wished your friend, Y/n, luck on her future wedding with the duke-to-be? Need I remind you that she’s going to need some of it from her best friends.” Lady Yang gently nudged her son who was busy tapping his spoon and fork upon the table. “Jungwon here is finally courting someone, have you heard of that, dear? Lady Choi, daughter of the-”

“The ever famous cheese merchant of our city, Viscount Choi, whom without, we wouldn’t be eating this opulent cheese on the table right this very moment.” I finished, which made the two mothers impressively smile in my direction. Realizing how uncomfortable you become at the very slightest mention of Jungwon’s new lover, I figured butting in could end your agony; seeing that your man is stupid enough to not read the situation in front of him. He seemed more occupied with the utensils than your disheartened state.

As predicted, you excused yourself, and it went without saying that Jungwon followed after you as you rushed out the dining hall and out to your garden. Your brothers and his soon left the hall and went with their casual discourse on the parlor, leaving his and your mother exchanging wedding plans with the company of champagne bottles and cheese. I held my head up high as I walked into the library to reflect on matters that kept me wondering at night. Until Niki strode in, with a pocket watch in hand.

“Riki, I’m-”

“Save your breath, Your Grace. You’re going to need it in case you piss the hell out of Jungwon and he lands his knuckles on your pretty face again.”

“Why don’t you do it then? Can’t get your hands dirty for your sister yet you can for Yena?”

“Do not fucking tempt me, Sunghoon.”

“Too bad. I’d love to see you try, though.”

“And I’d love to see your little mouth shut, Your Grace. You’re impressive, but I’m sure you’ve always been told that. For a moment there you really had me thinking you were about to apologize to my brother. Turns out you’re still the coward that you’ve always been.” Jay walked in unannounced, slightly scaring me. He’s like a lion ready to hunt for prey, even though he’d just sit there looking unbothered. I’ve always deemed your eldest brother with veneration. All I did was drop my head low when he threw me those harsh words, though I completely agree as they embody me in so many ways possible. I hate it.

“A wedding, huh? Don’t you think you’re going too far, already? This ruse is nothing but a shame to both our families. Heed me while I’m asking you nicely to end this foolishness you’ve invoked on our sister.”

“Forgive me… but I’m afraid I can’t.”

Fortunately, Niki was quick enough to grab a hold of Jay when he was about to come at me. I must say this now before it’s too late, and better be in front of your brothers than your lover.

“I will take full responsibility for Y/n. I will be a man of worth to her and a word of honor, I will end any future causes of grievances upon us both. I will protect her from it, just as I’m doing now.”

“You’re doing nothing but stall her from her fate with Jungwon!”

“And how do you know she still cares for him? Haven’t you seen the look on your dear sister’s face whenever Jungwon’s name is brought up? Haven’t you seen that man strolling around the town with a fancy girl in hand a week after breaking your sister’s heart? I thought so. But you just want things to go your way. I’ll respect that. For now.”

I dashed out of the library after giving them a piece of my mind. Though I had planned to apologize to Niki, Jay’s words got the best of me. I headed towards the garden to look for you, but before I could have your attention, Jungwon already did.

END OF PARK SUNGHOON’S POV

Jungwon rushed to the garden, following Y/n’s quick pace in an attempt to block out any possible thoughts about her lover. Basking under the bright moonlight, Jungwon grabbed her by the wrist, making her turn and crash against his jabot-clad chest.

“Y/n, please-”

“Really, Jung? God! You totally had me fooled that day when I thought we were having a moment!”

“We did! But-”

“But what? You can’t hold yourself accountable for the things you left me with so you squander your way with another lady? Tough blow, don’t you think?”

“Please, Y/n, I just need you to listen to me and-”

“I’m tired, Jung. All these years, you let me wait for you for five years just to have you run back and hurt me again. I’m tired of you making a fool out of me, and I’m dumb enough to always let you. Because I love you. I love you so much, it fucking hurts. I have so much love for you yet here you are, always welcoming me with fleeting bliss and leaving me with endless torment. But the damage has been done and I’m out. I love you, but I guess I’m going to have to leave it like this.”

“You still do?”

“God! I poured out my heart for you and all you could say was that? Jung, how can you be so dense?! I wouldn’t have let you hold me that day in the forest if I don’t love you! I asked you for a new start but you ran off and a week later you’re traipsing around Northumberland with Lady Choi! Right in front of me!”

“You were with that man that day too, in front of me! You look at him with so much admiration with your hand hanging on his arm. How do you think that made me feel?!”

“More than the damage you did to me? What a load of nonsense, Jung! And here I thought you already knew that Sunghoon and I were just fooling around to get to you.”

“Well, I’m here now, Y/n! I’m all yours now!”

“No, you’re not. You just can’t bear the truth that you lost me to him. At the end of the day, it will always be your pride. It always has been. I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m apologizing but I still will. This ends here, Jung. I wish you well.”

The entire time that Y/n and the young lord were arguing out the garden, Jay and Niki were carefully listening from the library’s window; Niki figured it was finally time to spill the truth to his sister.

Niki followed Y/n to her room, taking note of the soft sobs and sniffles she emitted. She turned around when she felt her brother’s footsteps trailing after her.

“Riki…” Niki was suddenly enclosed by Y/n’s tight embrace, dampening his jabot shirt with her tears. He returned the warm hug as he gently rubs her corseted back, feeling the constant huffs from her crying.

“I’m sorry about Jungwon.”

“He doesn’t deserve me.” The lady muffled against her brother’s chest.

“Maybe you’re right. And neither does Sunghoon. Listen, Sister. There’s something I need to get off my chest. Come.” The two entered the lady’s room and Niki carefully shut the door tight, locking it in the process. He sat atop the neatly arranged bed while patting the space next to him, gesturing Y/n to sit closer to his side.

“Jay isn’t happy with the sudden announcement of your engagement, and neither am I. But always know that I will always have your back, just like how you always have mine. I’ve seen how Sunghoon made you smile and laugh like how you used to with Jungwon back in the day. This day feared me but we’re here now, and I must tell you the reason why we’re all against him courting you in the first place.”

“Remember Yena? The girl I told you about in the letters? Sunghoon… he deceived her. He made her cheat against me, fed her with lies, and tricked her into thinking our love was nothing but a hoax. I saw them one day in his father’s garden, I followed them, curious enough to see how he made her happier than when she was with me. Until he kissed her. He took her first kiss when I thought we’d be sharing it with each other. And she kissed him back... like I wasn’t even someone to reckon with. Needless to say, I attacked him. The boys went against him afterward. Jungwon was there too. With all the lies he wired into her brain, Yena never looked at me the same after that day. And the many days that followed. She and Sunghoon just suddenly stopped seeing after the fight that erupted between us.”

“The thing was, sister, Sunghoon never loved her. He was young and didn’t want to let the opportunity pass, that’s what he told us when I had his collar by my clutch. That was the only excuse he could ever give us. The asshole that he is.” Niki clicks his tongue while dropping his head low, gaze fixed on the carpeted area on the floor across them. “Fuck. I would still have Yena if he didn’t try to treat things like we were playing a game of who could get the girl first. Thinking about the time he wasted on nothing genuine, Yena could have spent it on me instead and I would have had her here, introduced to Mother and the ton.”

Y/n placed a hand on her brother’s closed, shaky fists. Niki let out soft sniffles, trying his best to keep himself from cracking. “I’m sorry, Riki, I didn’t know. He told me it was all in the past and that he desires to make amends now.” Niki jerks up, eyes fixed on his sister’s eyes. “You’ve only heard his point of view, you never heard mine. Sunghoon’s made a whole record in university, Y/n. He goes around the grounds breaking hearts like he owns them. Girls would swoon over him and he would gladly oblige. What an ambitious, cunning little prick. And now he has you wrapped around his fingers, the same way he did to Yena.”

“I’m sure he means no harm now, brother. He’s been nothing but kind and gentle to me. He makes me utterly happy; the part of my romantic story where I used to want Jungwon to be consistent of.”

“You know, I’ve always been considerate of your choices and aspirations, sister. But I will not lose you to Sunghoon like this. I’m afraid Jay and I will have to be very uptight with you seeing him from now on. I’m sure by now you’ve come to understand why Jungwon’s scared of surrendering you to him. He means well, sis, Jungwon…”

“I will not settle for someone whom I have to spend a lifetime second-guessing whether he wants me in his life or not.”

“But he’s been missing you a lot lately, hasn’t he?”

“I’m afraid him missing me is far too different from him wanting to marry me.”

Niki only sighs before planting a soft kiss on his sister’s temple and fixing his fit to present himself back to the lobby. Y/n was left in her room, fidgeting with her fingers while anxiously biting her bottom lip in deep contemplation.

Sunghoon may have stolen her attention from Jungwon, but she had to admit, she never regretted it. She has felt safe with Sunghoon the past months they’ve been together. Jungwon did nothing but torture her constantly with every chance he got. Although they hadn’t been sticking around their ruse’s ground rules lately, she feared the time between her and Sunghoon would be up soon and she wouldn’t feel his comforting presence around her anymore.

Sunghoon may have gotten her used to their dilly-dallying that time apart from each other could make her feel miserable. Not to mention the embarrassment that would come with it considering she is foretold to be Northumberland’s next duchess after all.

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!

ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021

#kpopscape #enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #neothestars #of lords & mischiefs #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fics #enhypen series #enhypen jungwon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen niki #iland daniel

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corvus--rex · 3 years

Text

The first part of this is already on Ao3 as part of Julance 2021, and I wanted to throw it up here with the second (unfinished) part of the chapter. It's sleeping for now, but I really want to come back to it. If you've read the first part on Ao3, I said that Keith's a little dark at first, but that he has his reasons - those reasons come in in his part. It is an Omegaverse, with Alpha Lance and Omega Keith. As usual, please feel free to skip it if it's not your thing :)

~*~*~*~

Part 1: Sharpshooter

Unilu was an old neighborhood. One that didn’t care where you came from or where you were going. Didn’t care about dynamics. Didn’t care about where your money came from. The density of the buildings made the area dark even in the middle of the day. The stories said that Altea had been a beautiful city, light and free. That was impossible to see anymore. Daibazaal Industries had taken over long ago, running the nanny-state government from boardrooms.

This was the world Lance McClain navigated through on his way to a bar called Baku’s Den. He was supposed to be meeting up with Florona, a girl he’d been put in contact with. She had connections to a job he was interested in. Omega trafficking wasn’t an uncommon practice, but it was usually female Omegas that were targeted. Some bullshit about delicate beauty and submission he didn’t believe in. Lance’s mother was an Omega, wherever she was. He hoped she was safe; he hadn’t seen her in 8 years. But this trafficking ring was pretty new, and dealing exclusively in male Omegas. Lance had a feeling he knew why.

The Daibazaal state had mandated sterilization for all Betas and some female Omegas. Male Omegas were safe from the invasive procedure. The official reason was that there was a population issue and the city was over-crowded, and that, although unfortunate, it was necessary for even resource distribution, and the statistics showed that male Omegas were far less likely to have children. It was total bullshit. The birth rate had been dropping steadily for years. Some once-thriving neighborhoods had become ghost towns. The only reason a place like Unilu was still holding on was because they looked the other way on most things, becoming a haven of sorts for people like Lance. The Alpha had always had an innate talent for firearms of all types. It was a talent he’d honed into a finely-sharpened skill. One that he used to chip away at Daibazaal and the atrocities they allowed to go unaddressed, like this trafficking ring.

He’d left his hoverbike a few blocks away, making his way to Baku’s Den on foot. He stiffened when he caught the scent of someone coming up beside him, but relaxed when he realized he knew the Beta. It was another runner who went by Rolo. Lance and Rolo had first met when Rolo and his girlfriend Nyma took off with Lance’s hoverbike. He’d gotten it back from the Beta pair and their cyber-terrier Beezer, and they’d eventually become friends of a sort.

Rolo casually sauntered up beside the Alpha. “So, where ya headed?” he asked.

“Just drinks with a girl,” Lance answered. Meeting a contact,was the translation.

The Beta understood. “She pretty?” One of your usual contacts?

“Don’t know. Blind date a friend set up.” No, but I trust the one who set up the meeting.

“Well, good luck with that. Never can tell with some girls. Gimme a call if you need an excuse.” Watch your back. Call if you need backup.

Lance chuckled at the surface sentiment. “Sure. Thanks, man.” Will do.

“Well, I better take Beezer for a walk. Gettin’ late.” Doing a hacking run tonight, but I’ll be nearby.

“Have fun with that. Watch out for any stray cats.” Good luck. Keep an eye out for security bots.

“Eh, they’re easy to scare off.” I can get around them.

By then, they’d reached the block Baku’s Den was on. Lance nodded toward it, Rolo understanding that this was where his meeting was taking place. They parted ways, Lance headed for the bar, and Rolo disappeared around the corner. The sign hologram on the dark grey concrete building sat over the heavy steel door. The sign read Baku’s Den in a stylized typeface with a three-jawed serpent weaving through the letters. The serpent flew – swam? – through the bar’s name on a continual loop, executing a barrel roll around the name every third loop.

The interior looked very much like most other bars Lance had been to, whether meeting fixers or just relaxing. A dark concrete floor was easy to clean (and hide ingrained blood stains) after the inevitable bar fights. Dim lighting was both a blessing and a curse since it kept things more intimate, but it was also harder to spot a weapon. Booths were the same way. Made things more private, but also gave someone the chance to ambush a target. Lance’s cursory sweep was more tactical than he let show. He noted all exit points, where was best for cover, who looked the most dangerous. He also spotted his contact.

Florona sat at the edge of the booth in the back corner. She had closely cut maroon hair except for a white swath down the middle that was cut longer and swept to one side. Her gloss black cybernetic eyes had no visible sclera or iris, but he knew she was looking at him. He could see her brown leather jacket with dark red accents and skin-tight burgundy pants and heavy boots. It was also a pretty safe guess that she was armed. Just as it was a near certainty that Florona wasn’t her real name.

Lance McClain certainly wasn’t his. But when he was separated from his family at 16, he left Leandro Dávila behind. He made a new identity for himself, one that let him not stand out at all, one that let him hide. He wasn’t even sure if there was anything left of Leandro in him. Leandro had been a hopeful, optimistic child. Lance was hardened by years of fighting, jaded by harsh reality. Leandro would have been afraid of Lance. It was a smart thing to be.

Some people, like Florona, wore their cybernetics for the world to see. Implants and attachments that were blatantly obvious. Rarer were those like Lance. He’d lost his eyes after a run gone wrong. The crew he was with sold him out when they thought the other side would pay better for it. They blinded him, but even without sight, he was still able to take them out and escape. He’d called his fixer, who got him help. His cybernetics looked natural, as close to his original blue as they could get. But they were fully functional cyberware. Top of the line a few years back. Night vision, infrared, zooming, even the ability to limit the amount of light received – all linked in. By blinding him, his old crew made sure he would never be blinded again. Not too long after that, he lost his left hand. That run was successful, but Lance had gotten caught in crossfire and an unlucky shot blew out his wrist, shredding tendons and splintering bone. The new one was indistinguishable from his right, the artificial skin blending seamlessly with the organic.

Lance had no choice but to slide into the booth facing away from the door, forcing him to trust Florona with his personal safety. He nodded to her, careful not to say a word until he was seated. “Florona.” It was a statement, a greeting, a question, a confirmation.

“McClain,” she returned, “Or would you prefer Sharpshooter?”

He put on the illusion of relaxing, something he never truly did. “Lance is fine,” he said casually.

Florona’s lips twitched with an amused huff. “Alright, Lance. I’m going to order us drinks while we wait,” she said, signaling to the aqua-haired waitress.

“Waiting for what?” This wasn’t what Lance was expecting, and now he was getting nervous.

“Your partner.”

“Partner? That’s news to me. What can you tell me about them?”

The waitress came over, waiting for what she was sure would be Florona’s usual order. “Nunvil,” Florona said – no surprises there. “And bring the bottle.”

Lance whistled low. “You go hard.”

Florona raised a perfect eyebrow. “And you don’t?”

“Never said I didn’t. So, what about this partner?”

She leaned back, throwing an arm over the back of the booth. “Best fuckin’ swordsman I’ve ever seen. Stealth type. He’s got this one blade – let’s just say I never want to be on the wrong side of it.”

The waitress returned setting unopened bottle and a pair of glasses on the table. When she left, Florona made a show of breaking the seal on the bottle. She poured both glasses, and Lance idly played with the rim of his.

“What’s so special about this blade?” he asked. He was genuinely curious, but made sure she didn’t know that.

“Ultraviolet hard-light. Keeps it maglocked to a sheath on his back. Bio-activated so no one but him can use it. I got to see what happens when someone tried to take it once. Wasn’t pretty. New guy tried to hit on him. Pretty forcefully, but he didn’t know what he was in for.”

Interesting information. This mysterious partner of his was a known factor here. Lance wasn’t sure if Florona had mentioned that part to remind him that he was an outsider in Unilu or if she just considered it part of the story.

“I should tell you what to expect from him before he gets here. You're an Alpha, and he may take offense to that. He’s an Omega, and a lifetime of bad experiences makes him resent Alphas on sight.”

“That’s fair,” he said, and finally picked up his glass. He actually enjoyed the silky burn as it went down. “Anything else I should know?”

“Don’t piss him off. He’s not likely to actually kill you, but the threat will be there.”

“Anything else that’s not vague and threatening?” Lance asked, draining his glass.

“Mm, nope.” Florona refilled both their glasses, and Lance saw the tiniest movement of her looking to the bar. “Except that he’s coming over. Better get ready, he’s an experience.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2: Samurai

Keith stashed his heavily modified hoverbike in an alley barely a block away from Baku’s Den, activating the chameleon hologram that would keep it out of sight. He was familiar with both the Unilu neighborhood in general and Baku’s Den in particular, and knew to be cautious. It wasn’t just the relative lawlessness of the area that kept his guard up. Nowhere was truly safe for a male Omega in Altea. Not anymore, not with the disappearances that he now knew were a major Omega trafficking ring.

Knowing that the upper echelons of Altean society were buying and selling male Omegas like prized pets made his blood boil. It was assumed they were being taken as breeders, to be used to give the city’s elite heirs until their bodies gave out. But Keith had seen the kinds of things that happened to Omegas, male or female. Breeding was only part of it. He was lucky that he hadn’t been taken, but he’d freed more than a few who were in similar situations. Kidnapped or given away to Alphas, and even Betas, and abused into being the “perfect” Omega. It varied depending on the human garbage controlling the Omega. Docile, submissive servants, hypersexualized walking sex toys, psychologically broken breeding stock for their Alphas, and that was the better end. He’d seen Omegas so physically, emotionally, mentally broken that there was no saving them. Death was a welcome rest for them, but not for the abusers. He felt nothing for them as people when he put them down, only a sense of relief that they would never harm another Omega.

Keith was mainly a runner specializing in stealth and close combat. Taking out low-level Omega trafficking was what he did between runs. If working opposite Daibazaal Industries and its only subsidiary, Galra Technologies, was what amounted to Keith’s day job, his vigilante justice for trafficked and abused Omegas was his passion project. It was what made him jump at the chance to at least help bring down the biggest trafficking ring the city had ever seen. He didn’t know Florona well, but he trusted her boss Luxia, and she was the one who first had the intel for the run being offered.

The exterior of Baku’s Den was its usual façade of calm, as much as a high-class dive bar could be. Keith knew as well as anyone that a fight could break out at any time and for any reason. Just walking in made him uneasy, especially when he opened the door to a loud argument in progress between members of a runner team he’d seen there before. Almost subconsciously, his hand went toward the hard-light blade he kept sheathed on his lower back at all times. The near-fight ended with raucous laughter and a call for another round of drinks. He dropped his hand with a relieved sigh and made his way to the bar, intentionally catching Florona’s eye on the way.

“Keith! Haven’t seen you in a while,” Luxia greeted him.

“Yeah, been busy,” he answered, “Just finished another run last night. Anything I should know about this guy before I head over?”

She shrugged. “Experienced runner. Long-range firearms specialist. Got a couple cybernetics, but nothing obvious.” Luxia knew Keith’s preferred drink, and set the glass of SilveRing down in front of him, the dim lighting of the bar illuminating the juniberry-distilled, deep magenta alcohol from within and highlighting the silvery ring settled around the perimeter of the liquid surface. “Just so you know, he’s an Alpha, but I can tell he’s not just in it for the money. Don’t know what his deal is with that, but he seemed legitimately pissed at the idea of Omegas being trafficked.”

“Good to know. He’s still an Alpha.” Keith finished his drink, Luxia refilling it without a word. “Well, better head over there. Run’s more important than some Alpha.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19* | 20* | 21*

#my writing #abandoned wips #keith kogane #lance mcclain #alpha lance mcclain #omega keith kogane #klance #keith x lance #abo #omegaverse #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years

Text

GF - Can’t Stand It

For @ho-ne-ye.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stan was having a bad day. Well, a bad week. Scratch that, a bad month.

It was March, a beautiful time out in the Arctic. For several weeks the Stan twins hardly ever saw the sun or didn’t see it at all. Closer to the holidays they traveled down south to Northern Europe, exploring the United Kingdom and the Northern Islands in order to enjoy daylight, but now that Summer was approaching and Spring was on their side, the Stan O’ War II was moving up to sail above Canada, breaking melting ice and meeting new creatures.

Today they had stumbled across an island covered in woods. The twins had docked to enjoy stable land, but of course it didn’t take long for them to stumble into trouble when they explored the island. Something about trespassing, Stan may or may not have been magically transformed into a small and cute version of himself, but then turned back to normal by a knocked-over potion. It was all a blur, and it all ended with Stan and Ford being tied together hanging over a raging fire as the clan of seal-people with war paint danced around them and singing a weird song.

Enough was enough. With a knife slipped out of a boot and a few left and right hooks, Ford and Stan managed to get away, now being chased by the angry clan and flying arrows. Stan dove on top of Ford to shield his brother from an arrow and they both scurried to their feet and ran deeper into the woods, heading for the beach, but their path was blocked by a giant monster, a half-spider, half-scorpion kind of creature with eight legs, pinchers, a sharp tail, four red eyes, and an angry kiss as it’s hairs vibrated.

Ford shot at it with his ray gun and that only made it angry. It dove for the six-fingered scientist, but Stan shoved him out of the way and soon Stan was thrown back to a tree and made very little attempts to get back up.

“STANLEY!” Ford cried out and shot at the monster again, this time hitting it in the eye. Temporarily blinded and distracted, Ford was about to grab a nearby spear thrown by a villager, pierce the monster, and leave it to bleed to death as he ran to his brother and knelt in front of him. “Stanley! Stanley, can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

“M’fine, m’fine,” The old sailor mumbled as he blinked a few times. “Just lemme catch my breath…”

Ford noticed how he had a hand to his side. He gently prided it away and was horrified to find blood. The monster must have pierced Stan. In one swift motion the eldest by fifteen minutes scooped Stan up and began to carry him to the shore. “You’ll be okay. I’ll fix you up, I can fix this.”

His brother grunted in response, his hands loosely over his wound, but Stan was losing his strength. Ford then noticed a bead of blood dripping down the back of Stan’s neck; he must have also hit his head perfectly on the tree. Ford swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bobble, and he firmly instructed, “Stay with me, Stanley. Don’t go to sleep. You might have a concussion.”

“M’tired.” He muttered in his twin’s chest. They were close, so close to home. Ford’s boots crushed the sand beneath them.

“Stanley Pines, stay with me!” Ford shouted, ignoring the way his brown eyes stung.

“Why should I?”

Ford’s heart threatened to stop. Stan’s voice had been so quiet that he had nearly missed it, but the old scientist heard every word. The wounds didn’t look that bad, Stan would be fine, he was too tough to be taken down by some pathetic monster like that, but the fact that Stan was even considering…

“Wh-Why?!” Ford repeated, mortified by his brother’s delusional question. “Why?! Because I need you! Don’t you dare think about giving up on me, Stanley, don’t you dare! C-Come on, d-d-don’t you wanna see Dipper and Mabel again? Don’t you wanna see Soos marry that Melody girl?”

Stan’s breathing was shallow against his twin’s blue jacket. “You’d be better off…”

“NO!” Ford screamed as he saw the boat farther along the beach. He broke into a faster run. “No, we wouldn’t! I swear! Stay with me, we’re almost there!”

But Stan wasn’t answering. He was very quiet. And a bit limp in Ford’s hold.

“Stanley?! Stanley! Lee! Lee, don’t you dare give up! Don’t you dare leave me, please! I… I can’t do it!” He shut his eyes at the thought and let tears flow down his cheeks as he climbed up onto the Stan O’ War II. “I can’t lose you again. Please, don’t make me.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t fair.

Stan should be perfectly fine, he should be happy. He got his brother back, he had a real family for the first time in forty years, he was living out his dream with his best friend. He wasn’t alien to feeling this cruddy about himself, but at least back then he had something to work towards, something to keep him going, and something to distract him from the voices in his head. But now his thoughts were more apparent now more than ever before and they wouldn’t go away.

The fact remained that everyone would be better off without Stan. He was a mistake, the screw-up, a criminal, a con-artist, a dirty sailor, a worthless heap of flesh. No one really wanted him around, and the people who did would soon get sick of him. Dipper and Mabel called them less and less (which to be fair they have been very busy with exams on the way). And even if it was Ford’s idea to go sailing, how long would it be before he changed his mind? Or had he really meant what he said? Or had he only said what he said because he felt guilty?

No. There was no changing the old man’s mind. Everyone would be better off without him.

He walked down the dock with his hands in the pocket of his brown trenchcoat, his boots clicking against the wood gently. It was bright and shiny and beautiful without it hurting his eyes or requiring sunglasses over his regular glasses. The sun glistened on the water and a soft breeze made him comfortable. The only odd thing was that there was only one boat.

A small boat, actually. It had a sail, like their dream boat as kids, with a cabin down in the bunkers. It was plain and clean and new, with a golden pole and rims on the windows. On it sat a young lady, about early-twenties, with short blonde hair. She was odd, wearing a white Hawaiian shirt with golden palm leaves, white shorts, and had a golden watch on her wrist as she filed her nails, reminding Stan of a secretary from high school. This girl was sitting on the boat with her legs crossed, sporting white sneakers, and hummed a familiar tune, though Stan couldn’t pinpoint it.

The girl glanced up at him, put her eyes back on her work, and called, “You coming?”

Stan shrugged, his hands still in his pockets. “Depends. Where you going, sweetie?”

“Well I’m hoping to grant a handsome sailor his wish, but it’s whatever.” The woman said as she held up her hand to look at her nails boringly.

Stan smiled cockily. “Oh yeah, how so?”

“You think everyone would be better off without you, right?” The woman stood and gestured to her boat. “Wanna see for yourself?”

Stan blinked. Okay this was weird. Was he on TV? He shook his head like a wet dog and scratched next to his red beanie. “Uh… ‘cuse me?”

“You heard me. Wanna see if you’re right?”

“How are you gonna show me if I’m right or not?” Stan asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

The woman sighed as she glanced at her watch. “Look, I don’t have a lot of time, so here’s how it’s gonna go. I’m gonna go sailing to a timeline in which you were never born. Ford never had a twin, Caryn and Filbrick only had two sons, et cetera and et cetera. Then we can talk about where we’ll go from there. But whether you’re coming or not, this boat is leaving in thirty seconds.”

Stan looked away from the woman, down at the sea crashing against the dock gently. This didn’t make any sense. This was like something out of a cheesy movie. He didn’t have to go with this girl and see a world without him in it, but it might answer some of his questions. He just wasn’t sure if he would get the answers he wanted. Oh well, it’s not like he had anything better to do.

“Ten seconds.”

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Stan shrugged and climbed up on board. “Set sail, Ms… Hey, what’s your name, anyways?”

“You can call me Honey.”

“Okay, Honey…”

“Oh my God, he called me honey…”

“Wait wut?”

“Time to go!” The woman grinned for the first time, a sly foxy smile with sparkling eyes and beautiful lips curled upward. She stood from her seat, pulled her sail loose, and it suddenly jetted across the sea so fast it threw Stan back and he had to catch himself from falling into the ocean, meanwhile the girl in all white stood perfectly calm.

“So, where we going?”

“I told you,” Honey said calmly. “We’re gonna go see what it would've been like if you had never been born.”

“Yeah, but where?”

“First stop, Gravity Falls.” The sea around them was fading into woods and trees and dirt, and soon the bot came to such a sudden stop that Stan was thrown to the other side and sat his head on a pinetree, growling as he stood up straight on the sailboat and rubbed his forehead.

Stan looked around and recognized the woods. Yup, this was definitely Gravity Falls, but… something was off. It was gray and cloudy overhead. And they were in front of a big open patch of woods Stan had never seen before.

“What is this place?” Stan asked as he hopped off the sailboat in the mud.

“Gravity Falls.”

“I know that! I mean… I’ve never been here before.”

“Yes you have.” The woman said as she got off her ride and stood beside the old sailor. “You lived here for thirty years in another timeline.”

Stan’s eyes widened. “No… Is this where the Mystery Shack’s supposed to be?”

“You got it.”

“But…” Stan was racking his brain, thinking. “What, did Ford never come here? Cuz he went to that West Coast Tech school he never came here?”

“Nope. Ford never moved to Gravity Falls, which means no Mystery Shack.”

“I always thought there’d be a big mansion here or something.” Stan shrugged and said, “Okay, so there’s no rundown tourist trap. Big deal.”

“Eh, so you think.” Honey started to walk into the woods, giving no invitation for Stan to follow, making it easier for the conman to do so. “Do you remember what this town was like before the Shack?”

Stan shrugged with his hands in the pocket of his trenchcoat. “Not much. Just a bunch of paranoid weirdos who needed a good laugh.”

They emerged from the woods and Stan gasped at the town. It was even more worn down and cheap than it had been when Stan came thirty years ago. Broken windows were boarded up, pavement was cracked, and either ketchup or blood was splattered here and there.

“Whoa hey, what happened?” Stan asked as they left the woods and walked through the town, shouts and coughs being heard in the distance. “I know this place is a dump, but not this much of a dump.”

“Stan, do you really think your business was the only one to succeed due to the tourists coming in?” The woman in white asked. “What about the motels? Diners like Greasy’s? Stores and gas stations? All those out-of-state tourists didn’t just give money to the Shack. You’d be surprised how much one tourist trap helps the economy of one struggling town.”

“Okay, sure, but there’s no way the Shack helped out the town this much.” Stan argued, gesturing around them lazily.

“No, you’re right. Really, the town didn’t hit hard times until about five years ago.”

“Why…”

Screeching tires interrupted the old man. He and Honey watched as a very nice, rich-looking pick-up truck spun around the corner and came to a sudden stop in front of a grocery store. Stan’s jaw dropped to the pavement as he watched someone he barely recognized get out of the passenger’s seat.

Soos had a black baseball cap on backwards, wearing a cold, spiky, black-leather jacket, torn jeans, and a gothic, graphic t-shirt. His eyes were so cold and menacing, he seemed a bit taller due to holding himself up with so much pride, and when he snapped his fingers and pointed to the grocery store, five guys emerged from the truck and raided it like it was the end of the world.

“S-Soos?!” Stan gasped. “Soos, what are you doing?!” But he was ignored.

“No one can see or hear us, Stanley.” Honey said as they watched Soos’ gang drag a cashier out by her long hair and began to pumble her just because they could. Soos did nothing to stop it, even smiled a little as the girl screamed for help.

“I don't get it… Soos is a good kid! He’d never hurt a fly! Why in Moses’ name is he…” Stan couldn’t finish the sentence. He was frighteningly reminded of the Colombian gang he was once under.

“Oh, c'mon sweetie, connect the dots. Who do you think taught Soos to be a good kid?”

“His abuelita did.”

The woman chuckled and shook her head. “She tried, but as he got older it really began to hurt that his dad didn’t wanna be around him. And cuz you weren’t there to tell him otherwise… let’s just say high school never happened for him.”

“What?!”

“He dropped out of school in the eighth grade and joined a small gang outside of town. Eventually he made his way up the ranks and now his little gang terrorized the bottom half of Oregon.”

“B-But why?! All cuz I wasn’t there?” Stan asked, shaking his head. “There’s no way…”

“Stanley, who do you think taught him that he was worth something? Who taught him how to stand up for himself and give bullies left hooks? Who had him put all of his energy into hard work?”

Stan stared at his pretty tour guide. There was no way Stan did all that, no way. Sure, he liked the kid a lot, but he never actually thought he impacted Soos’ life this much. Stan looked back at this horrible version of Soos as his gang loaded the car with food and cash and they sped off, leaving the woman to bleed on the sidewalk and wipe the blood from her lips.

“C’mon,” Honey said and gestured onward. “We’ve got more people to see.”

“Okay so,” Stan followed her and racked his brain. Surely somebody benefited from him not being alive. “What about Wendy? Is she still around?”

“Nope. Without you to give her a job here in town, she had to move upstate to her cousin’s lodge, remember? She had to leave all of her friends behind and she was miserable. Still is, actually. Very quiet gal. Doesn’t say or do much.”

“Wendy? Quiet? I don’t believe you.”

The woman opened a door to a shop, but instead of the inside of the building they saw a black-haired Wendy sitting on her bed in her new room, criss-crossed, holding her pillow as she listened to depressing heavy metal.

Stan winced. “Yikes. She turned into a real Robbie.”

“That kid joined Soos’ gang, BTW.” The woman said as she closed the door.

Stan was having a hard time buying the idea that nobody actually got some good out of him not being around. "Wh-What about that lil' troll? Gideon?"

Honey snorted and led the way through town. As they walked, Stan was having a hard time buying this scenario. There was no way he made this much of a difference. Okay, sure, if he not being alive meant Ford never moved to Gravity Falls, and that meant Gravity Falls changed a bit, Stan could understand that, but there was no way this town turned for the worst all because Stan wasn’t there. There was no way the screw-up actually made things better. Right?

“Here we are.” The woman said to snap Stan out of his thoughts.

The car dealership looked mostly the same. A little more run-down, sure, and there was no Tent of Telepathy in sight, but Bud still wore that stupid straw hat with a baby-blue Hawaiian shirt and tan pants, but he didn’t look quite right, either. Heavy bags were under his eyes, looking a bit more like his wife, and the little bit of hair he had was graying a bit too early. He waved his customer goodbye with a smile, but the second they were gone he sighed tiredly and was frightened by a window being shattered by a rock.

“DADDY! GET OVER HERE!”

“Oh, boy.” Bud steadied himself and went back to the house.

“Hey, how come the little jerk’s business isn’t booming?” Stan asked, more interested as to why his biggest competitor wasn’t flourishing in a town that needed someone to believe in. “He’d do great here! He could’ve used his little camera to tell people when S-... when the gang was gonna strike, or…”

“Stanley, sweetie, how do you think Gideon started that tent?”

“I dunno, he decided to use his cuteness to get some cash?”

“Not quite. For a few years he was just a bratty kid, but then he found a journal in his playground full of mystical objects, including a magic bow-low tie. It was that journal that made him think of telepathy. Even if he was fake, it was Journal 2 that inspired him.”

“Okay, okay,” Stan held his chin. “So with no me there’s no Ford in Gravity Falls which means no journals which means no Tent of Telepathy. Fine, but the twerp’s gotta be a better person without that spooky book making him think he’s all powerful.”

The woman in white laughed and pointed to the house. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? See for yourself.”

Stan walked up to the broken window and was mortified at the state of the house. Stains everywhere, chipped and torn furniture, cracked walls, torn carpet, and in the midst of it all was a ten-year-old lying on his stomach on the couch, banging his fists and kicking like a toddler as he screamed horribly. Stan winced, but then was completely thrown off to find Gideon’s hair not white and up Dolly Parton-style, but orange and cut short.

“I WANT IT, I WANT IT, I WANT IT!” Gideon screamed as if he was being murdered.

His poor mother was against the wall, holding her heart and breathing heavy; Stan noticed the signs of an anxiety attack.

Bud slowly approached his son and tried to calm him down. “Now, sugar pie, please…” But the human beaver was kicked in the jaw, leaving a bruise and making him bite his lip so hard he bled. Bud held his mouth as Gideon continued to scream.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! YOU NEVER GIMME ANYTHANG I WANT! WHY YA HAVE TO BE SO STUPID?!”

“Yikes, how did not being possessed by a freaky journal make him worse?” Stan asked Honey as they walked away from the house. “I don’t get it.”

“Sure, Gideon wasn’t the best kid before the journal, but at least with the journal he had something to work towards, something to put all of his energy into, and he also had you.”

“M-Me?”

“Don’t you remember the first time you met him?”

“Yeah, he took my parking spot with that stupid van.”

“Actually, you met once before.” Honey chuckled as they walked back into the woods. “You were both at the grocery store when he was four. He was with his mom, bouncing in the buggy and demanding for candy. She gave in just to keep him quiet and tuned to pick some milk. You were across the aisle, picking orange juice, when Gideon dropped his chocolate bar while trying to open it. You noticed the candy and the boy making grabby hands at you and the candy, but you grinned, said ‘no’ firmly, picked up the chocolate…”

“... and ate it right in front of him!” Stan laughed. “I had forgotten… I didn’t know that was Gideon! I thought that was just some spoiled brat.”

“Well, it was. You were the first and only person who ever told that boy ‘no’, the only person who really challenged him and pushed him. Thanks to you, he channeled his anger and energy into trying to take you and the Shack down. But without you around to push him, he had no way to get his energy out, except his parents.”

Stan looked down at the dirt and they stopped walking for a second. “This… This doesn’t make any sense.”

“How so?”

“I’m just a screw-up!” Stan argued as he looked back up at the woman. “I’m the twin no one wanted! I’m just some loser of a conman! It doesn’t make sense that a guy like that could… it… there’s gotta be somebody to benefitted from me not existing! What about Lazy Susan? With no Mystery Shack that means no lazy eye, right?”

“Actually, Soos’ gang raided the diner and it ended badly when Susan stood up to them.” Honey winced. “She ended up not only losing her job, but her eye, too.”

Stan swore under his breath. “Fine… What about that McGucket dude? His life’s gotta be better than living at the dump with his mind all jacked up.”

The woman shrugged and led the way deeper into the woods. “Barely. C’mon, we’re going to Tennessee.”

Stan followed the mysterious tour guide back to the sailboat and this time properly braced himself for the sudden speed. Very suddenly they were racing along the sea, colors swirling by them, until they stopped very suddenly on a river. Stan’s jaw dropped to see a huge, beautiful mansion up on the hill by the river. The woman parked the sailboat by the dock and they started to walk up to the rich house, passing a weeping willow with a stone bench with a big crack in the middle.

“This is McGucket’s place?” Stan clarified.

“You got it, genius.” Honey gestured to the six horse stables, the lush garden, all of the nice cars and wagons, and at just how huge and nice and rich the mansion was. “Fiddleford still went to Backupsmore and met his wife, Emma May, and with no Ford to ask for help on a portal, Fiddleford became the inventor of not only person computers, or what’s commonly called laptops, he became the founder of the largest tech company in the country, Berri.”

The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out one of those smartphones the kids had, except the back had a little strawberry with a bite in it. “They went on to invent the first cell phone, BerriWatch, and right now they’re testing a self-driving car. Fiddleford found himself with more money than he knew what to do with and after he built his family their dream home, which by the way is the richest house in Tennessee, he simply expanded his company and made historical international deals. He’s also made huge donations to small run-down towns, like the one he grew up in, to create jobs and try to help out their economies.”

“Cool, okay, see.” Stan said with a smile, impressed by this hillbilly’s success. “One person got a good deal from me not being around.”

Honey rocked her hand side to side and led the way around the mansion, walking alongside the clear open space, passing the weeping willow and bench to move around the hill. “Just cuz he was successful doesn’t mean he was better off. Don’t forget, Fiddleford was never the greatest at handling his stress well. He invented that Memory Gun because Ford accidentally inspired him to, saying scientists have a way of creating solutions to their problems. So with no way to forget his stress and anxiety, Fiddleford drank to forget how worried he was about losing his company if he made a bad deal or if his newest invention or work or if he was putting out a good public face.”

“No.” Stan shook his head. “That goody two-shoes? No way.”

“Hey, he grew up around moonshine, he just couldn’t get his hands on it when he was living at the dump.” The woman shrugged and they came upon a stone pathway and walked down it to a small flower garden that formed a circle. “Anyways, Fiddleford was never violent, thank goodness, but he was drunk more than he was sober. He should be happy, with a wife and son and booming business to boot, but he wasn’t. He fell into depression and drank until he ended up here.”

Stan looked ahead and felt the wind get knocked out of him. There was a flat tombstone in the middle of the circle of flowers. He knew what was on there, but he still slowly approached to read what the stone said. “Fiddleford H. McGucket. 1956-2011. The angels now sing a whisky lullaby.”

Stan backed away, backing up farther than the woman was, shaking his head and even punching his forehead as he tried to think. “This… This doesn’t make any sense! Their lives were supposed to get better without me, not worse!”

“Stanley…”

“The kids!” Stan gasped and looked up at Honey. “Where are the kids?!”

The woman looked sober and she gestured back to the sailboat to go to their next stop. “Back in California.”

Stan was anxious the whole trip, though it only took a minute to get where they were going, but soon they were on the side of the road in front of a middle school. Stan watched on the boat as the bell rang and kids started pouring out. He kept his eyes peeled for his kids and he grinned at the sight of two brown-haired twins.

Dipper wore a long-sleeved blue flannel over his orange t-shirt to go with his gray pants. He still had bags under his eyes and he still had that lucky star hat to hide his birthmark, slouching a little with his backpack, but he was still here, a brilliant thirteen-year-old. Stan was a bit worried to see him looking so down and upset, but both men soon smiled as a young girl skipped out of the school.

Mabel had her long hair up with a scrunchie today and kept back with a headband, still wearing her sweaters, today wearing leggings with her skirt, and she grinned at her twin and punched his shoulder before hugging him. “Hey bro bro! Wanna go to the arcade today? I hear they got some new prizes!”

“Sure, sounds fun.”

“There, you see.” Stan sighed with relief as he watched the kids walk down the sidewalk, passing the boat. “They’re fine, they’re happy. They still got each other.”

Just then, some big buy came around the corner and bumped elbows with Dipper, making Stan’s nephew stop, and the bully shoved him onto the concrete.

“Dipper!” Mabel cried out and looked ready to punch the bully, but a guy came up behind her and grabbed her around the arms, pinning her. Another guy joined the bully and they cracked their knuckles as they gazed down at their prey.

“If it isn’t the best punching bag in town.” The bully sneered. “Feel like fighting back today, Dipstick. It’s no fun having a sparring partner that doesn’t fight back.”

Dipper growled and made a flimsy attempt to stand and punch his opponent, but the bully grabbed his wrist and punched him in the gut and kicked him down, leaving poor Dipper to huddle on the sidewalk while the two bullies hammered on him and Mabel fought to be free and help but was powerless against her capture.

“HELP! HELP! SOMEONE HE-” And Mabel’s mouth was covered, but she still wiggled and screamed.

Stan couldn’t watch anymore. He had purposely waited to give the kids a chance to fight back, but sometimes you just need a little help. “I’M COMING!”

“Stanley!”

Stan jumped off the boat and ran to the kids to pull the bully off his niece and scoop her into his arms, but his arms went right through them. He frantically tried to shove the bullies off his nephew, but again his body went right through them, like he was a ghost.

The woman stood by his side and said calmly, “I told you, no one can see or hear or feel us.”

“I can’t just stand by and do nothing!” Stan yelled at her face.

“Why not? Everyone else has. No one had ever taught them how to fight back when the world fights them, except…”

“Me.” Stan finished for her with a sigh. He made himself watch as the bullies continued to beat Dipper up, finally stopping after the ring leader kicked him in the jaw, and Mabel was let go as they ran off to celebrate their victory.

Mabel crawled to her twin’s side and checked over his injuries as he carefully sat on his knees. “Dipper! Dipper, are you okay? What hurts? Show me what hurts.”

“Ow, ow, ow,” He whined as Mabel touched his swollen eyes and busted lips. Dipper spat out a tooth and held his chest. “I think… I think they cracked a rib.”

“Let’s go home.” Mabel carried his backpack for him and had him lean on her as they wimped onward. “Mom can look at it and take you to the hospital.”

“I don’t get it.” Stan said as he watched his kids walk away. “They’re good kids! Isn’t anyone gonna stand up for them?! What about their parents?! What about their friends?!”

“They don’t have any friends.” Honey said sadly as they watched the twins. “The only friends they had ever made were in Gravity Falls, which they had never visited cuz there was no family there. And Shermie taught your nephew to keep your head down to stay out of trouble, which he’s trying to teach his kids. Unfortunately, it isn’t working out for them, and what used to be bad nicknames and gum in their hair has escalated to fights and notes to kill themselves.”

Stan bit his lip. Not those kids. Not his kids. He wanted to believe things would get better for them, but if no one taught them that they were worth something, that they could stand up for themselves, he didn't have much hope and he didn’t dare ask what their future looked like. But something didn’t sit right…

“Shermie,” He muttered without looking at the woman, still looking ahead. “Y-You said he taught his kid to keep his head down.”

“I did.”

“Why would he do that?” Stan asked. “I mean, sure he’s always been a lame square, but that’s really bad advice, even for him. He taught me and… He taught Ford to stand up for himself. Crampelter was terrified for weeks when Shermie found out he had been breaking Ford’s fingers.”

“He and Ford didn’t see much of each other.” Honey answered quietly.

Something clicked in Stan’s head. While all of this was interesting or whatever, there was only one person that Stan truly believed was better off without him. His better half, the genius, the loved son, the author of the journals, the criminal of the multiverse. His brother. Stan turned to her and asked quietly, “Where’s Ford?”

For the first time, the woman looked scared. She looked away and said, “You don’t wanna know.”

“Yes I do!” Stan bellowed and grabbed the woman by the shoulders. “Please! Where’s my brother?!” This gal had been scaringly quiet about the one person Stan cared the most about.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Stanley, let’s just get back on the boat…”

“Only if you take me to see my brother! Where. Is. Stanford?!” Stan demanded darkly, his eyes pleading the woman to make his request.

The woman sighed and Stan let her go.

They slowly got on the boat and it zipped to the docks of Glass Shard. Stan blinked a few times at being back to where he grew up for the first time in forty years. Dark clouds covered the sky. Not much had changed throughout the years, but why on Earth was Ford still here? They hopped off and planted their feet on the sand, and Honey led the way as she spoke.

“Stanford was still born with six fingers on each hand. Your mother tried to assure him that it only made him special, but Filbrick did a good job of making it clear that that wasn’t the case, and things only got worse when he went to school. You weren’t there to beat up bullies, you weren’t there to tell him that he was special, you weren’t there to help him dream of a future where they would sail away and he’d be free.”

“Yeah but Ford was always a little genius.” Stan interrupted as they left the sand for dirt, the beach slowly turning into a small patch of woods. “He’d win a handful of science fairs and spelling bees and then at least Pa was okay with acknowledging that they were related.”

“But Stanford didn’t win a handful of science fairs and spelling bees.” Honey corrected sadly. “Stanley, you were the only person in his childhood that made him think that he was actually worth something. You were the only one who made him shoot for the stars and believe that he was worth keeping around. Without you to give him confidence, Stanford never expressed his intelligence and therefore never allowed it to grow at all. He did okay in school, but he wasn’t the top student. He never participated in science fairs of sleeping bees or math competitions because he didn’t have enough confidence to put himself out there. Sure he was smart, but teachers weren't going bananas over him because no one, not even himself, knew his potential.”

It started to rain, but of course the two didn’t feel it or were affected by it. “So… he didn’t go to West Coast Tech?” Stan dared to ask as they walked deeper down the dirt path, oblivious to where they were as he was thinking this through.

“No.”

“But… I thought you said he did.”

“No, I said he never moved to Gravity Falls. He never felt home.”

“So… what happened to him? What did Ford end up doing with his life?”

Honey bit his lip and refused to meet Stan’s eye. They walked on and Stan finally realized where they were. He felt ready to throw up. He waited for his guide to speak.

“Much like Dipper and Mabel, things only got worse as he got older. He got to a point where Stanford was stealing Filbrick’s boos and he even started to hurt himself. It wasn’t enough. It was all too much for him. He… He…”

“No.” Stan’s voice cracked and he was terrified when the woman stopped and motioned to a tombstone that laid among the others in this graveyard. “No! You’re lying! He wouldn’t! He didn’t!” He yelled.

“I’m sorry, Stanley.”

Stan finally made himself read the rock. He fell to his knees at the words that shined through the rain. “Stanford Filbrick Pines. 1956-1970.”

“NO!” Stan screamed and punched the ground beneath him as he gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. “NO! HE WOULDN’T! HE DIDN’T!”

“Ma found him dangling from the ceiling. She was never the same after losing her baby.” Honey croaked. “He was only fourteen.”

“NO!” Stan shook his head as he ignored how wet his cheeks and eyes were now. “NO! He… He… He never needed me. He never wanted me around.”

“Yes he did.”

“You’re lying.”

“Stanley, listen.” The woman said firmly behind him. “You said it yourself that family needs each other. I know it’s hard to believe that you’re actually worth something when there’s a dozen voices in your head telling you otherwise, but just like how you need them, your family needs you. Your brother needs you.”

Stan listed his fists up from the dirt, his eyes on the tombstone without seeing. “I… I just thought he’d be… they’d be better off I hadn’t been around.”

“No one knows for sure how they change things or how much they really impact others. But you do. And even if you forget all of this, you know your family loves you enough to tell you that they need you.”

Stan snorted. “Yeah, but what’s keeping them from saying that outta pity?”

“You can’t let yourself think like that, Stanley, you just can’t.” Honey said firmly. “Your family loves you. Stanford loves you. He needs you, and if you don’t believe me, just take a look at what he’s like when you’re gone.”

“Wait what?”

Honey got on her knees beside him and showed him her golden watch. The face changed to a scene, like a tiny TV, and Stan started to find Ford back at the Stan O’ War II, kneeling beside his injured twin who laid more dead than alive on the couch. With tears streaming down his face Ford was wrapping a bandage around Stan’s head and feeling his heartbeat and checking that the bandages around his torso were well and secure.

“Stanley, Stanley please,” Ford begged as he took Stan’s hand and squeezed it. “Please don’t leave me. I need you, the kids need you. Please.”

“Whoa hey, I’m not going anywhere.” Stan said, but then his eyes grew wide and he looked up at Honey. “Am I?”

“I dunno.” She asked as she lowered her arm and smiled at him. “Do you wanna go?”

“Go where?”

Honey chuckled. “On.”

Stan blinked at her. “No. No, I don’t. If… If that knucklehead really wants me around, then I’ll stay.”

Honey blinked her eyes dry and stood up. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll get you home.”

Stan stood up and followed her back to the boat. “By the way, honey, why’d you do all this for me? What, wanted to earn your wings?”

“No, this was pure self-indulgent.”

“Wait wut?”

~~~~~~~~~~

His head hurt. His side ached a little, but his head really hurt. That didn’t matter. He had no idea why, but he had to see his brother.

Stan forced his eyes open and found his vision blurry thanks to his glasses being folded on the end table. He smiled when he saw that Ford had fallen asleep by his side, kneeling beside the couch, holding his hand, and resting his head face-first into his own folded arms. Outside it was dark, which could mean it was seven in the morning of seven at night, given the fact they were up in the Arctic.

The younger, injured twin, snorted at his brother, which made the aged scientist sit up too quickly for it to be wise, wide awake, with his hair in a gray floof and his red eyes wide and alert.

“Stanley! Thank Moses!” He cried out and stood up to better look over him. “How do you feel? Any pain? How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Calm down, Sixer,” Stan chuckled weakly as he slowly tried to sit up, sensitive to the wound on his side. “My head hurts, but I’ll be fine with some painkillers, and you’re holding up two fingers like some dumb hippy.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Ford hugged him around his shoulders tightly as his whole body trembled. “I know you showed no signs of a concussion and your wound is not nearly as bad as it could have been, but i didn’t know for sure if you would pull through or what I would do without you and…”

“Geez, relax, it’s okay, Stanford.” Stan shushed as he hugged him and rubbed his back. “M’fine, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Ford said firmly and sat back, a hand still on his shoulder. “Don’t you ever think for a second that I don’t want you here with me, Stanley. I need you.”

“Yikes, where’s all this sappiness coming from, eh?”

Ford blinked at his twin and said slowly, “Y-You said you thought I’d be better off without you…”

Stan waved that away. “Ah, you say stupid stuff when you hit your brain too hard. I swear, Sixer, you’re stuck with me, as long as you’ll have me, anyways. Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t kill yourself out here.”

Ford chuckled tiredly and shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m always right. Now do we have any stew left? I’m starving.”

#GF #fanfiction #gravity falls #gift #stan pines #ford pines #angst #nothing but angst #and a little fluff #maybe #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT HONEYE!!!#LOVE YOU!

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pennamesmith · 3 years

Text

For Want of a Skeletor

Entrapta hosts a Princess Alliance meeting at the Crypto Castle and absolutely nothing goes wrong. More Skeletor stories!

The lights were on late in Dryl.

Stars shone outside the windows. Entrapta sat hunched over her desk, studying datapads and readouts. A polite cough from the laboratory door caused her to look up from her work.

“Oh! I’m sorry Hordak, did I wake you?”

Her partner stepped softly into the room and shook his head. “Imp did. You know how he gets when either of us take too long to come to bed.”

Hordak crossed the cluttered floor and joined Entrapta at the desk. He was holding Imp in his arms, and the smaller, winged clone whined plaintively when he saw her. Entrapta kept her screens on, but leaned gratefully into Hordak’s side and curled a tendril of hair around his waist. She yawned, despite herself.

“I know. I just want to make sure I get everything right before the other princesses come over tomorrow.” She glanced back at the data, nervously tapping her fingertips together. “I’ve never hosted an Alliance meeting before! And this rescue will be our biggest mission since… well, you know. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

Hordak smiled. “Your diligence is admirable. But I also seem to recall someone telling me that imperfections are beautiful.”

Entrapta stuck out her tongue. “No fair.”

“I’m afraid the science is sound. Come to bed, my dear.”

The scientist scoffed, but she did not protest when Hordak gathered her up in his arms. She wrapped more of her hair around him, and Imp settled sleepily in the resulting nest. Entrapta could already feel herself drifting.

“You will be a shining star tomorrow,” Hordak promised, as he carried his family back to rest.

“Tomorrow,” echoed Imp.

The next day saw the Crypto Castle’s largest meeting room filled with princesses, dignitaries, and other honorary Alliance members. While Scorpia and Perfuma admired the tiny refreshments laid out for everyone, Mermista split her time between groaning at Sea Hawk’s boasts and trying every available chair to find the most comfortable one. Glimmer and Bow stepped uneasily around the edges of the room, watching carefully for anything that might be a trap, and Frosta followed their lead. Netossa and Spinnerella tried their best to find a chair Swift Wind could sit in.

Adora and Catra, wearing increasingly baffled expressions, were conversing with two domestic-looking robots who sat at the head of the table next to Entrapta. One was tall and skinny, and the other wore a welded-on handlebar mustache.

“Entrapta has parents?” Catra was asking, her face a galaxy of disbelief.

“Adopted, technically. Or adapted,” the skinnier bot explained. “We’re Entrapta’s parental units. She built us when she was six. You must have seen the painting in the foyer.”

“Yeah, we’ve been here pretty much the whole time,” the mustachioed model added. “You kids sure made a racket during your last few visits. What was that all about?”

“Uh,” Adora faltered.

To her immense relief, Hordak swept into the room at that very moment, flanked by Imp, Emily, and the reprogrammed Horde drone Entrapta had dubbed ‘Skeletor.’

“Welcome, everyone,” Hordak boomed, bringing the gathering to a respectful hush.

“Witless fools! I’m in charge now! And if you know what’s good for you you’ll do as I say!” Skeletor shouted.

Hordak scowled and shooed the fussing robot away from the table. “Pay no mind to that one,” he grumbled once he’d regained the floor. “Now then. Please allow me the honor of introducing the unparalleled mind who has made this operation possible, Princess Entrapta.”

“Thank you all for coming!” Entrapta started, while everyone took their seats. “I know you’re all excited about what we’re planning, but there’s still a lot of preparation to do before we can take off. As the chief science officers for this mission, it’s vital that Hordak and I gather as much data on your abilities as possible! Interdimensional travel is severely unpredictable and —”

“Hold on,” Mermista interrupted. “Exactly how high are the chances of us getting mutated by cosmic space energy or whatever? Because I only want cool mutations, not gross ones.”

“Maybe thirty, thirty-five percent?” Entrapta guessed. She shrugged. “A lot of this is theoretical. You guys will be like my guinea pigs! By which I mean the small robotic animals in the castle I protect and care for. And experiment on, sometimes.”

She laughed heartily. Glimmer and Bow shared a nervous glance. Perfuma turned slightly green.

Entrapta regained her composure and pointed back to the display board. “Ahem. Anyway, the good news is we already know some things about where we’re going! Probably.” She shuffled her notes, gaining confidence as she spoke.

“Before Adora found the Sword of Protection, historians debated ancient records of She-Ra. Some claimed she was called ‘Her-Ra’ and fought for the ‘Power of Grayskull.’ But I theorize that what those archaeologists actually uncovered was evidence of —”

“I have a question!” Frosta yelled. “Will there be hunky guys in the other dimension? I’m asking for a friend.”

“It’s funny you mention that, actually,” Entrapta replied. “Listen, just let me finish and…”

Unfortunately, anxious impatience had already gripped the assembled Alliance members. They clamored with questions, all talking at the same time. Entrapta shrank back in her seat and pulled her welding mask down, seeming to reach for something under the table.

Hordak stood up. Just as it looked like he was about to do something violent, a loud alarm sounded and the lights in the room flashed red.

“Uh-oh.” Entrapta glanced around at the assembled company. “Um, get ready to tuck and roll everybody!”

“Get ready to what?” Mermista cried out, but it was already too late. Multiple trap doors swung open across the meeting room floor, and with flailing limbs and startled shouts the guests were sent tumbling down chutes in every direction. In moments they had all vanished.

“I always feel so much better after doing something bad!” Skeletor cackled. “Now we begin phase two!”

Adora and Catra, who had clung to each other as they fell, landed with a bump in a darkened, underground space. As soon as they arrived, bright lights flickered to life and a huge screen lit up against the wall.

Entrapta’s face appeared on the monitor, larger than life. “Oh good! You’re alive,” she chirped when she saw the other two.

Adora clambered to her feet. “Entrapta! What’s going on?”

The scientist glanced away. “Well, I guess Skeletor didn’t like that we were ignoring him. So he stole my map of the castle and activated the security systems! Which means we’re all lost in the labyrinth until I can catch him. Isn’t that great?”

“It’s something,” Catra groaned, rubbing her head.

“Exactly! Now, without my map I can’t come find you. But if you can make it through the traps, the hallway you’re in should take you back to the meeting room. Then you’ll be safe until I can fix things!”

The screen dimmed again before Catra or Adora could protest. Left with few other options, they turned to get a good look at whatever dangers lay ahead.

They were standing at one end of a long corridor. Square blocks floated along its length, suspended in midair with anti-gravitational tech. An interrogative punctuation mark flashed on one, while a squat robot with painted-on angry eyebrows shambled slowly back and forth beneath it.

Catra took it all in. “You have got to be kidding.”

Adora had already drawn her sword and begun to venture forward. Catra was about to follow her, when something made her ears flick. A suspicious frown crossed her face.

“Hey, Adora!” Catra called. “Listen!”

“What?”

Catra pressed her ear to the wall. “There! Do you hear that?”

“Obviously not,” Adora huffed. “Now stop dawdling, the first puzzle looks pretty easy.”

Catra stayed where she was. “Hold on a second. This part of the castle feels familiar. I remember walking through here back when, uh, back when it was still Horde territory.” She coughed awkwardly, and then reached up to tilt the frame of a big-eyed kitten painting. “Look!”

Something clicked and the wall slid open, revealing a new passageway. Distinctive laughter could be heard coming from the other end of it. A purple neon sign reading “Secret Entrance!!!” buzzed to life.

Adora sighed and rolled her eyes.

“One time Entrapta had me and Scorpia over for a life-size Snakemen and Ladders game that got a little out of hand,” Catra explained as they entered the tunnel. At the far end there was a brightly lit office; inside, it was filled with laboratory equipment, video monitors, and a humble but dignified desk.

Hordak was sitting at the desk, in what appeared to be a smaller version of his old Fright Zone throne. It swiveled. Entrapta was sitting on the desk, and she waved as the other couple entered.

“Myaah! Sleep gas and stun-rays only, my evil minions!” muttered Skeletor, who was busy working the video monitors. On closer inspection, Adora realized that each of them showed some of the other princesses as they traversed the castle labyrinth.

“Welcome to mission control!” Entrapta sang, spreading her arms wide. “Hordak didn’t think you’d find us, but I had a hypothesis you might.”

“It was a ruse!” Adora gasped, scandalized. “You’re not lost at all!”

“You really need to hang out with Entrapta more if that still surprises you,” Catra observed. She looked at the monitors. “Ah, are they gonna be okay?”

“Better than!” Entrapta sprang off the desk, hanging by her hair as she showed off multiple datapads. “Everyone was getting a little… distracted upstairs, so I just decided to speed things up a teensy bit! The princesses using their powers to escape the maze will let me get all the readings we need, and then we can have a nice little party! I had the baker make tiny cakes.”

“I made sure Hordak’s doomberry pie was especially tasty!” Skeletor piped up.

“And it’s all perfectly safe!” Entrapta promised. Discreetly, a ribbon of hair reached out to push a blinking button. On the monitors, Mermista and Sea Hawk were rescued from a robot shark attack by a convenient change of the currents.

“This is hilarious,” Catra laughed, looking more closely. On one of the screens, Swift Wind was gleefully running loop-de-loops along a curving racetrack. “I think they’re actually having fun in there. Can we stay and watch?”

“I’m afraid not,” Hordak said. She-Ra’s — and your — assessment is the most important of all. But we’d love to have you over to the castle for dinner soon. Shall we say eight o’clock next week?”

“That sounds nice!” Adora chimed, before Catra could stop her.

“Splendid. I’ll cook,” Hordak concluded. Then he pressed a button on his desk, and a trapdoor sent the younger women plummeting through the floor.

Catra and Adora yelped in surprise, only for their fall to be cut short by an enormous pile of pillows on the level below. They struggled to their feet. Another corridor stretched away in front of them, filled with further challenges. Floating gold coins, each about four feet tall, indicated a pathway.

“Try not to have too much fun,” Hordak called good-naturedly as the trapdoor slid shut.

“Use the warp zone! It’s faster!” Entrapta added.

“Have a nice trip down!” said Skeletor.

Hordak settled back in his chair (it had soft armrests, and a cushion for lumbar support) and watched his partner at work. Entrapta flitted from screen to screen, taking notes and making adjustments. On one display, Bow and Glimmer had met up with Netossa and Spinnerella while navigating a cage minefield. On another, Frosta was making an ice bridge to help Perfuma and Scorpia cross a slow-moving spike trap.

“I’m sorry you had to use your backup plan. They really are utter fools if they ever doubted your genius,” Hordak mused.

“Different people have different strengths and weaknesses,” Entrapta replied, without looking up from her work. “And a good scientist collaborates whenever they can! Even if that requires a little creativity sometimes.”

Hordak nodded. “Fair enough. Nevertheless, I would not blame you if you wished to have nothing more to do with the Princess Alliance. Even their attempts to help you can seem… insensitive. You’re not obligated to forgive that.”

Skeletor looked up from his control panel and shook a fist. “Don’t you get awfully tired of being a hero all the time? Don’t you ever feel like doing something evil?”

“They’re trying to be good friends,” Entrapta defended. “And so am I. And if I really did need their help, maybe things would be different. But I’ve got it all under control!”

She vaulted across the room, flipping switches and turning dials along the way. On the monitors, Perfuma’s fall from a tall platform was gently broken by a sudden anti-gravitational field.

“Besides, forgiveness isn’t always about the person being forgiven. It’s also about taking back potential energy that was lost.”

“Did you learn that in my brother’s therapy group?” Hordak asked.

Entrapta smirked. “Actually, he got it from me.”

A pleasant ding sounded and Entrapta clapped her hair. “Hooray, everyone made it back! I’ll calculate the high scores and then we can continue the social experiment!”

“You astonish me every day,” Hordak purred as he rose to follow her. Entrapta put out her hand, and he took it.

“Wait for me!” Skeletor cried out. “You might get lost by yourself!”

One week later, a much smaller gathering of royals met in Dryl.

Catra and Adora sat together in one of the Crypto Castle’s least intimidating dining rooms, listening with barely-contained delight as Entrapta’s parental units thoroughly embarrassed their former boss.

“...And so I said to him, ‘I have charging ports Hordak, can you download raw data offa me?’ Ha! Oh, you shoulda seen his face!”

Hordak slouched in his chair. “I do not think we need to bore our guests with the details of this particular story,” he protested, feebly.

“Oh, I’m not bored at all! I want to hear everything,” Catra said. She leaned forward, grinning. “So, was this before or after you hooked him up to the lie detector?”

Entrapta giggled, and gave Hordak a gentle pat on the shoulder as she reached for another helping of his tiny quiche. All things considered, the night was going surprisingly well.

It was exactly what Entrapta wanted.

After dinner, wheeled bots carted away the leftovers and dirty dishes. Hordak poured coffee for himself and Adora, and the parental units retired to wherever it was they lived in the cavernous castle. Entrapta, lost in thought as usual, felt a familiar feline presence approach her.

“Thank you,” Catra said, sincerely. “Not just for this. For everything. For being so nice all the time. For making this mission happen. It means a lot to me.”

Entrapta smiled softly. “To me, too. Everyone makes mistakes. It would be a shame not to learn from them when we can.”

“Did you say something?” Skeletor squawked, suddenly materializing in the doorway.

Entrapta, unbothered, immediately produced a datapad. “Oh we’re just talking about the big rescue mission! Actually, you should probably take a look at my data, Skeletor. I haven’t told you much yet, and we might need you!” She held the blinking screen out happily.

Skeletor looked at the datapad. At first he seemed confused; then he boggled as he registered the information in front of him. “Eternia?” he gasped in disbelief. “Grayskull?”

His voice rose to a fevered pitch. “He-Man!”

For once, Skeletor had no words. He shrieked incomprehensibly instead, fists shaking.

Hordak chuckled. “It’ll be just like the old days!”

Skeletor screamed.

#spop #skeletor #entrapdak #entrapta #hordak #Catra #Adora #the princess alliance #smith stuff #fan fiction #thank you for reading

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just-my-fandom · 3 years

Text

One Weakness (Hunk Garrett x Reader)

Reader is the white lion. Hunk and Reader are already together.

Summary; The reader has proven her worth on the field.

Request; Can I have a Hunk story with a badass reader and soft Hunk?

“OKAY, listen up, guys. The paladin code demands you put your team members safety above your own. A swarm of drones is about to attack,”

Your eyes look to the side, bayard clutched in your hand.

“You need to do everything you can to protect the other members of your team,”

You look up, watching as the group of small drones circled you and your team of six.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Hunk panics, as your free hand holds your shield up, “What’s going on?” Hunk flinches at the shield that pops up in front of him, “Whoa. Did you guys get one of these?”

“Get ready,” Shiro demands, as you squint your eyes and step back.

As soon as the drones begin shooting, Hunk ducks, the first laser bullet hitting Pidge so the ground beneath her gave out, dropping her through.

“Protect your teammates!” Coran calls, as Hunk purposely allows the bullets to hit him, ducking into the hole that appeared beneath him, “Or no one will be there to protect you!”

You allow your feet to back you up, back pressing with Keith’s, Shiros, and Lances at once. “You keeping up over there, Keith?” Lance calls, looking past you and to the red paladin.

“Just concentrate on keeping me safe,” Keith orders, Lance scoffing, loudly.

“Me? I own this drill. You’re the one who needs to concentrate,”

“Lance,” You hiss, threateningly, ducking forward when a drone flies by you, Lance lifting his foot so the bullet flew past him and hit Keith, almost instantly getting hit himself.

“It’s me and you,” Shiro stands, pressing his back to yours, your jaw clenching as you raise your bayard and shoot.

You flinch when the bullet flies over you and hits Shiro in the back of the head, nearly falling into the hole he dropped into yourself from balance loss. You heave a deep breath, raising your shield, eyes shifting to the six drones around you.

“This is your time, Y/N,” Coran announces, “Protect yourself. Your teammates are dead. Will you be joining them?”

You exhale a long breath, raising your bayard a third time before shooting, watching as it easily took out three of the bots. You jump back at the bullets shot at your feet, turning to slam your shield into another bot, ignoring how it rammed into the wall at your side and vanished.

You shoot, narrowly missing one of the two bots left, body jerking in order to dodge its bullet, before you shoot again, the drone exploding on impact. With a final heave, you shoot the last bot, watching as it dropped onto the floor then vanished.

“Excellent!” Coran cheers, as you drop your shield and weapon, both disappearing, “Thats how you do it, Y/N,”

“TO form Voltron, you must trust in each other. This ancient paladin maze will teach you that trust,” Coran pauses, watching as the holographic walls vanished, “Your teammate can see see the walls. But you cannot. So listen carefully; if you touch the walls you will receive a slight shock,”

“Wait,” You pause, looking up in the direction where Coran stood, “Who’s guiding me through?”

“Take two steps forward,” Keith demands, lowly, eyes staring at the map in front of him. You exhale in slight annoyance, rolling your eyes.

“Okay,” You raise an eyebrow, flinching harshly at the shock that sends through your body.

“Two steps forward,” Keith repeats, “Three steps to your right, then three steps that way,”

You clench your jaw, heaving a breath before moving in said direction, hand slightly in front of you as if you could feel the walls.

“Good,” Coran calls, “You’re putting trust in your teammates,”

“Trust is very hard to earn, Coran,” You snip, missing Keith’s roll of his eyes, “So nice try,”

“‘Maybe we should send Lance in here,” Coran hums, and you spin around, shoulder knocking into the wall so you were shocked, twice.

“Absolutely fucking not,”

“YOU have been working hard. Maybe it’s time you relax a little,”

You sip at the juice packet Coran handed you, leaning back on the training deck floor to stare at the ceiling.

“What are you doing?” Alluras voice leads you to look over, “You’re supposed to be training!”

“Just resting a bit. Cant push too hard, you know,” Coran informs, arms crossed.

“What do you mean, “cant push too hard”?” Allura snaps, “So far, none of you have been able to fully pass our tests!”

“Y/N did excellent with the program, actually,” Coran comments, and you send a wink when Lance looks at you,

“Well I’m glad one of you knows how to fight, but there’s six of you,” Allura hisses, “Six Paladins, and you can’t form Voltron without all six Paladins, and you can’t form Voltron if you don’t know how to fight! So get up, it’s time you all face the Gladiator!”

“WHOA, please tell me we’re not fighting that!”

“No, of course not,” Keith replies, sarcastically, shooting a harsh glare towards Hunk, “He’s here to bake some cookies,”

“Hey, I mean, I’m down for that,” Hunk nervously responds, yelling out when the Gladiator bot runs forward, Hunk lifting his gun before shooting, easily missing the attacker.

You raise your shield and block the four bullets, lowering your shield in irritation, “Hunk, sweetheart, stop trying to shoot me!”

“It’s not on purpose!” Hunk squeaks, grunting when the Gladiator swings its staff, knocking Hunk onto the floor.

You narrow your eyes, running forward with a raise of your bayard, shooting at the robot so it turned to you, it’s staff instantly swirling to hit you.

Keith’s sword is quick to block it, shoving the robot back as he slides in front of you, where you grunt and brush around him to shoot, “I had it!”

“Obviously not,” Keith snarls, Lance suddenly shoved into him so they both fell onto the hard ground, Pidge long thrown near Hunk.

“It’s me and you again, huh?” You heave to Shiro, who barely glances at you, before he does a double take, when the Gladiators staff hits you, hard, at the side of your helmet, knocking it off and feet behind you,

You stumble back, raising your bayard in an attempt to shoot, but the Gladiator is quick to get another hit at your face, dropping you onto the floor with a shout.

You lift your head as the robot powers off, Allura stepping up from behind it with a clench of her jaw, “That combat simulator was set at a level for an Altean Child! You’re not even close to working as a team, let alone ready to face Zarkon!”

You sit up with a hand pressed to your throbbing eye, other eye narrowing at the princess hovering over you, “I expected more from you, Y/N. Focus,”

You clench your jaw and roll your eyes, waiting for her to walk away before taking Shiros extended hand, letting him raise you to your feet.

“AHOY young Paladins,” You settle in front of the table in front of you, eyes staring at the plate of green goo, “I’ve whipped up a big batch of focusing food,”

“Oh thank God,” Hunk looks over at your exhale, your hand raising to rub your sore face, “I just want to eat and sleep for a million light years,”

Coran grunts in excitement, pulling out a remote with a press of the button, electronic handcuffs clasping around your wrists so they immediately connected to one of Hunks wrists, the opposite locking with Lances, “What-?”

“I saw a lot of solid individual performances today, but you’re still struggling to work as a team. So welcome to the final bonding exercise of the day,” Coran smirks, “You will all feed one another,”

“I think we’re bonded enough,” You grumble, tugging your arm to the side so Hunks arm pulled with yours, and you frown at him, “Hunk, if you wanted to hold hands, you could’ve just said so,”

Cheeks flushed, Hunk glares at Coran, “Coran, I want you to think about what you’re doing,”

Coran shrugs, and you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. You lift your spoon, scooping at your green goo before holding it out to your boyfriend of a year, “Say ah,”

Your arm jerks when Lance pulls at your other arm, your eyes narrowing at the blue paladin in a glare. “What?” Lance huffs, waving his own spoon in your face, “I’m hungry!”

“Well I can’t multitask, McClain, wait your turn!”

“This is ridiculous!” Keith complains, Allura groaning,

“Do Earthlings ever stop complaining?”

“Cant you just give us a break?” You snap, Hunk frowning at the flinch you give from the movement of your black eye, “We’ve worked hard today,”

“You do not yell at the princess!” Coran snarls, Pidge tilting her head,

“Oh the princess of what? We’re the only ones out here and you’re no princess of ours-!” Pidge is cut short when green goo hits her in the face, your eyes looking from her to Allura to see that Allura had been the one to flick the goo, a moments pause before Keith stands up with his plate,

“Go loose, Pidge!”

You laugh out in a squeal as food goo is suddenly thrown in every direction, your arms still connected to two of your teammates covering your head in defense.

A short glance between one another, and everyone begins laughing, your arms dropping as the cuffs are suddenly released, “See!” Allura calls, “You’re bonding as a team!”

Your eyes shift over to Hunk, watching as his eyes gleamed and then looked to you. You smile, widely, his face almost instantly matching yours as you lift your hand for a high five.

#hunk garrett one shot #hunk garrett imagine #hunk garrett x reader #hunk garrett #voltron #voltron one shot #Keith Kogane #takashi shirogane #Lance McClain #pidge gunderson #Katie holt #princess allura #Coran

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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years

Text

Daughter!Reader x Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 5. Secrets hurt

First | Previous | Next

Listen I don’t know why I decided to give each chapter an artsy title I just did. Also as anyone following this may have noticed this story isn’t gonna be regularly updated but rather updated when I have something I’m proud enough to post though I am determined to finish this series, just school comes first. I hope you understand.

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

The winter continued like that. He’d bring you food and you’d give him goods, even visiting multiple times a week. Sometimes he’d tell you about the stuff, holding up a jar of applesauce ‘from The Kingdom. The guy who runs it used to own a tiger’ or loaf of bread ‘the hilltop grows the grain, but Alexandria makes it.’ You would hum and nod along, knowing he was just trying to convince you to come back. Mainly because he’d ask if you wanted to come back with him and you would be ‘grateful but happy where you are’

You had asked him to start making lists so you knew what to find and you always tried your best to deliver. Cloths, blankets, kitchen utensils, baby bottles-

“Baby bottles?” you asked, pointing at the item on the list. He nodded.

“John and his wife are pregnant and we don’t have enough to go around.” He explained from the comfort of your couch, feet up on the table.

“But you have some?” you continued, not believing what you were hearing “You have...children? As in...babies?”

“Yea. I keep telling you we’re building a society.” he laughed at your bewilderment. “You’d fit in gr-” your mind ran as what you knew was coming ‘Here it comes again. No never works with these people. How do I get him to shut up?’

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” you cut him off, smiling. You turned to your kitchen unit, pulling out a large bot, a can of vegetable soup, and salted beef that Daryl had brought that day. “You’ve brought me so much it’ll probably go bad before I can eat it all.”

In that time he had stood up and walked over to the kitchen, now leaning on the counter. His sudden appearance made you hold your breath “When did ‘get out’ become ‘stay for dinner’?” he asked, seemingly amused.

“When you stopped understanding what ‘I don’t wanna be part of your group’ meant.” You retorted, cutting up the salted beef with a dedicated kitchen knife. “Are you staying or not?” you turned to him, stopping your cuts for the moment. He nodded with a shallow ‘yeah’, making you smile then go back to cutting. You poured the meat and soup into the pot, placing the lid on top. “Some snow on top to water it down and we’ll be sleeping with full stomachs tonight.”

You had him carry some bowls and a ladle up to the roof. Within an hour the fire outside was lit and the food was cooked atop four bricks you were lucky enough to be able to upgrade your cooking fire with, the old lamp now repurposed into a weapon. There was no conversation but you didn’t feel like you needed it. The wind was calm, letting Daryl look out over the city. “Do you know where the museum is?” He asked while you were stirring the soup.

“A couple of blocks down,” you called back. “Why?”

“Me and a few others are planning on raiding it in the summer” he answered, not turning back to you.

That’s when you realised something. You had heard about all these friends. Carol, Michone, Saddiq, Rosita, Eugene, Henry, Ezekiel, Lauren. He’d mentioned them in passing, saying how they made something he brought you or appreciated something you brought him. Yet he always came alone. It would’ve made more sense if Rick was doing these deliveries, you’d met him before the winter. Sure you stitched up his leg.

The two of you were sitting in front of the fire as it fizzled out when curiosity got the better of you. You swallowed the food in your mouth.

“Why are you always here alone?” you asked, he looked up at you from the other side of the fire. “It makes more sense to have people watching your back but for the past month or so you’ve been visiting me on your own. Why?”

“That’s how it is” he scoffed between mouthfuls.

“That’s how what is?” you snapped.

“You’re allowed to be all secretive but I’m meant to have my cards on the table.” he cut back. You thought it over a second, then went back to eating. You both finished up as the fire mellowed, taking your leave back inside. You carried the pot while he held the bowls. Back in your unit, you piled the dishes into the sink.

“I should get going,” he said, going to pick up his back.

“Y/N!” you nearly yelled. “My name is Y/N,” He looked back at you incredulously. A tense silence fell over you both “Before this,” you waved your hand to motion to the apartment “I was with a few people...including my father. We managed to secure a building, kept the walkers out but after some time new people arrived and a few of them got...Protective, I guess. Including my old man.” You crossed your arms and leant against the sink, the floor now far more interesting than the man in your apartment. “People died keeping me safe when they didn’t need to, all ‘cause my old man refused to let me help, but we were still bringing in new people but not everyone was helping, either cause they weren’t allowed to or didn’t want to. That caused anger to boil in the group and then...more people died.” Thinking back on the Sanctuary tears began to flow, but your voice didn’t shake and your body stayed firm. “I ran away and I’ve been hiding ever since ‘cause I know they’ll kill me if I’m found.” You finally looked back at Daryl who had been hanging on to your every word. You wiped away your tears. “You said I can’t be secretive, well there it is.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“You don’t wanna go home” you cut him off. “You don’t like where you rest your head, that’s why you’ve been spending more and more time out here with me. I get it.” you pushed off the sink, leaning under it to pick up a jug of water to do the dishes with. “You can leave or you can stay the night. I don’t mind.”

You turned your back on him to focus on the dishes. He picked up his things and left without another word. ‘That’s it’ you thought as you scrubbed the pot, now getting more aggressive with it, ‘you fucked up Y/N.’

The following morning you woke up, opened your bedroom door, and saw a familiar red-neck on your couch. You couldn’t stop the smile that plastered your face, but you did grab some clothes from your closet then went back to your room to dress. This time when you left he was up. “‘Morning” he croaked as he stretched. “This couch was a lot comfier the first time.”

Your relationship continued like that for the next while. He’d visit you more regularly, stay for dinner, and usually, he’d stay for the night. You got tired of the complaints about the couch and cleared out the second bedroom. You liked having him visit and were willing to facilitate it. He’d even begun leaving a few things there. Functional stuff like arrows for his bow and fuel for his bike. You found him some clothes and extra blankets, and a bigger bag to carry stuff home.

You didn’t ask why he didn’t want to be with his people. After keeping everything a secret for so long it didn’t feel right, but you could guess. Between your family and your time in the army, you had developed a skill in reading people, a skill you noticed he also had. Maybe that’s why every second didn’t need to be filled with conversation. Though you wish it was so you could know more. He was kind, there was no question of that with everything he did for you without even knowing your name. Though when he came to your apartment he was tense, and he was never happy to leave. This made you think he was going somewhere he didn’t want to be, but he had to be. He always talked so highly of the settlements, trying to get you back there. He must be going someplace else.

The winter passed, your garden began to flourish again, and the walkers thawed. You thought after the winter Daryl would stop visiting but he still showed up. He didn’t come as often for a time, saying he wasn’t gonna make the trip unless he had enough to offer you. You frowned at this “Do come out” you ordered him. “You’ve got people relying on you. Children and everything and I’m able to find stuff in the city you need.”

“I don’t wanna leave you short. Our deal ya know-”

“Screw the deal, Daryl.” you huffed “You’re my friend and I wanna help you”

“Oh we’re friends?” he commented, with a cheeky smirk “Didn’t you try to kill Rick.”

‘So Tara told them’ you thought. “Yes,” you said “In a friendly way.” normally he wouldn’t find that funny, but these past few weeks escaping away to your hide-out had given him a chance to get close to you. “Come and visit me when you can, please? I got nobody else to steal my food.” That afternoon you both search for some last pieces for Daryl, having to go deeper and deeper into the city. You talked about his group’s plan to go to the museum and raid it for seeds and old machinery. You saw first-hand what a crack-shot he was with his crossbow, you whistled as another went down “Not bad bow-boy. How’d you get so good with that?”

“Before all this” you started, walking ahead to pull the arrow out of the dead one. “Me and my brother, Merle, used to move around a lot. We used to hunt sometimes for sport, sometimes for food, but he’d always make it a competition. Decided to learn a quieter weapon so I could beat that son of a bitch.” Another two walkers approached as he spoke. He shot a bolt through one of them while you took the other down with your knife. “After that, he never helped hunting again”

“Sounds like a sore loser” you commented, pulling the arrow out of the walker's head and handing it back to Daryl. He took it and reloaded the bow.

“You have any brothers or sisters?”

“Nah” you shook your head, keeping a lookout while he reloaded. “My old man said I was a miracle baby. Mom was always sick. They thought they’d never have any. I used to hate it but after hearing how Merle left you in a cell while he ran off with your girl, I’m glad.”

“Ahh, he wasn't all that bad,” he commented, walking alongside you.

“No one is as bad as they seem when you know them. At least that’s what my superior officer said”

That evening he couldn’t stay, but he left with a heavy bag and that made you happy. As the evening descended you went back to your unit. The following week would be quiet since Daryl had his big raid coming up. Though you didn’t realise how quiet until you were in the midst of it.

You had scavenged a few things. At this stage, the apartment building had been picked dry but you had a few children’s cloths and some old bandages from first-aid kits that had seen better days. As usual, you had piled everything in Daryl’s room. As usual, you were reading another book. As usual, it failed to entertain you since you’d read it about three times now. As usual, you fell asleep on the couch, not completely though because you heard the front door open.

You sat up sharply. “Dary-”

Thwack

~ Tag List ~

@softsebastian

#twd daryl #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd reader #twd x reader #twd reader insert #daughter reader #negan x daughter reader #AJ's Negan's Daughter AU

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

Fixing Grum is harder than it looks, sorry guys. [:)]

@petrichormeraki @helleborusangel

Grumbot pulled itself out of [:)]’s arms. It made no sense to stay there anymore when there were things to do. It needed to find Ghostbur and learn what had caused the revival to go awry. It had coordinated for him, but that seemed to be rather far out. Theoretically a teleport could be used, but doing that on its own didn’t seem right. It was meant to do what the admin wanted. But the admin wasn’t here, so did that change things? No, it just needed to find [:)] since he assisted the admin. [:)]’s coordinates were much closer.

Grumbot pulled itself out of bed and then looked at the other occupied bed. Jrum. The robot was much too close and it was worrying Grum. For a moment, Grumbot considered dealing with the problem, but it didn’t matter. It was leaving to find [:)]. Jrum being there wouldn’t matter then. Besides, this was Jrum’s home and not its own. It was its own fault for being there.

Grumbot looked at the exit. There were too many people that way, and based on previous actions, they would try to stop it. So instead, Grumbot turned to the window. It would be easy enough to break that and leave. Would it make a sound? Yes, but it could still get a head start. And it was much cleaner, its joints could work better so if needed, it could run.

Grumbot climbed up to the window and broke it before jumping out. From inside, it woke up Mumbo and caught the attention of a few people who alerted the others. Grumbot frowned and started to run before getting a better idea. It ran to hide behind a small hill and then started digging down, quickly covering up the hole above them. It stood there, looking up and listening. It seemed that it was being followed, because a few moments later, stomping feet from running passed by overhead. It seemed that Grumbot had the right idea when digging down.

After a few moments of silence, Grumbot climbed back out of the hole. No one was around anymore, so it could continue on its destination to [:)]. It walked back the other way, passing by what should have been an empty building. As far as Grumbot was concerned, it was. The only coordinates listed for that place were for Tommy, but obviously the revival was not fixed yet. There was also Jrum, but if he did follow, Grumbot would stop him.

It continued to walk and checked the coordinates again. It unfortunately looked like Jrum was following. Grumbot rolled its eyes and sped up. Another check and he was still following, even starting to catch up. But also, he was a block above the ground for whatever reason. Though Grumbot knew turning would slow it down, it was still curious to see why that was the case.

Following behind Grumbot was Jrum, but only because they were currently being held by [:)]. Grumbot looked to see if there was anyone else in sight that hadn’t been noticed by the coordinates, but there was none. It supposed it could stop to see what [:)] wanted. And if he tried to take Grumbot back, it could simply get away since [:)] still had to focus on Jrum.

“You are following.”

“Oh thank goodness you’ve stopped.” The [:)] man panted. “And yes I am. Where were you going Grum? I thought you were going the other way.”

“Others that were likely planning to interfere followed and a new path must be taken now.”

“Path? Path to where?”

“To bzzt, as the admin is currently absent.”

“To what?”

“Bzzt.” Grumbot repeated.

“Can… you elaborate further?” [:)] asked, looking very confused.

“Of course. As bzzt had greater knowledge of various redstone mechanics and similar fields, the admin went to bzzt for help. The two of them often were together when certain things needed to be done, so with the admin gone, bzzt is the next best option.”

“Alright, so you’re going to see someone.”

“Was that not obvious? Bzzt definitely sounds like a name.”

[:)] shook his head. “Uh, no it does not. At the very least it doesn’t to me. I’m not even sure how to pronounce it even though I’ve just heard it.”

“Are two syllables that hard?”

“Two syl- Grum, every time you say the person’s name you’re just… making microwave noises or something.”

Grumbot paused. No, that couldn’t be right. It was definitely saying [:)]. But thinking back, the admin had also seemed confused at times. Had this been going on for a while? What else was affected? But that would be bad, so it couldn’t be happening. “You must be mistaken. There is no reason for a problem such as that.”

“Can you please come back? I can tell something is wrong and you still need repairs.”

“That can come after the revival has been fixed.”

“Then why aren’t you staying with Tommy. The problem is with him, right?” Mumbo asked. He had been asleep for the discussion about Ghostbur, but of course he was the one to find Xannes and Tommy in the first place.

“Bzzt cannot be helped until the problem is diagnosed. As Ghostbur is also having the same problem, answers may be with him. As the admin is gone, the next person to go to is bzzt.”

“To find answers about this Ghostbur person?”

“For instructions on it, yes. And bzzt will have those instructions.”

Mumbo sighed, he wasn’t really getting anywhere with this. “Grum, can you just come here?”

The robot hesitated for a moment, but it supposed that since [:)] was still a distance away, [:)] might work instead. It walked over and stood next to him, though it was wary about the fact that Jrum was in his arms.

Mumbo shifted Jrum into just one arm so he could put the other around Grumbot. “Thank you. Can you tell me how you’re doing?”

Grumbot looked up at [:)], screen starting to flicker between faces again. “H-have to f-fix th-things. C-can’t c-close programs. T-too many…”

“Can I see them?”

“L-look f-fast. C-console d-doesn’t like it…” Grumbot got out before a list of programs filled its screen.

Mumbo carefully set Jrum down to look through it all. There were a number of main programs open that all had their own sub categories of different programs. The one using the most memory was the console section. Opening it up, Mumbo saw just how much Grumbot was being used for. Player death counts, statistics, coordinates, time dilation, there was even a blacklist program, though that was currently disabled. Mumbo was pretty sure that was why they were able to get in now.

Now the time dilation program, that was likely why it had been a month or so here while it was only a few days for him and the others. “Grum, is it possible to disable the time dilation?”

“Yes. Currently displacement is at 884%. It can be lowered or turned off entirely.”

“I’d much rather we turn it off entirely.”

Mumbo watched as the program changed to list it as disabled. “Displacement removed.”

Almost immediately, Mumbo could feel his communicator buzz. He pulled it out to see it listed NPG as having joined the world. A moment later, a message came in from him.

<NPG> Hi, no clue if this works here, but I am trying anyway!

<NPG> No one even really knows I’m here.

<EvilXisuma> it works

<FoolishG> Whomst

<NPG> But something happened to Tommy and now I’m here for help.

<NPG> Oh yay! Hi Xannes! And other person!

<NPG> What do you mean?

<NPG> You mean Tommy?

<EvilXisuma> Who are you talking to?

<NPG> I’m getting messages from someone called Console, though it looks different than a normal person.

<MumboJumbo> I’m guessing that’s from Grum.

<NPG> Oh! You found him?

<MumboJumbo> Yes. both of the boys are with me right now.

<Grian> Oh thank goodness

<Grian> So he came back?

<MumboJumbo> He went the other way and I chased after him. He was trying to find someone, but he had an issue saying their name

<NPG> Then yeah, probably Grum since they were trying to ask about Tommy but the name came out weird

<MumboJumbo> I’ll see if I can get him back to bed.

Mumbo put his communicator away and looked back to Grumbot. Its monitor no longer showed the list of programs and the face shown was no longer shifting. He carefully nudged Jrum. “Jrum, any chance you can wake up?”

The bot shifted. “Nooo. Don’t wanna.”

“Jrum, I need to carry your brother but I can’t carry both of you at once.”

“Why can’t he just walk?”

“He’s got a lot of programs running and I’m worried about his battery. Plus, he tried running off before, so I don’t want that happening again.”

At this, Grumbot spoke up. “It will not if bzzt can be brought as well. And if battery is a problem, a storm can be summoned for use of a trident.”

“Tri- Grum, is that what those holes in your body are from?!” Mumo’s eyes widened, his shout waking Jrum up all the way.

“Correct. The admin believes it is good for emergencies.”

“No. We are going back. Now.” Mumbo spoke in a serious tone, his face very pale. Jrum still felt tired, but could tell that it wasn’t the time for complaining and stood up to follow his daddy. Mumbo walked as fast as he could. He would run if he wasn’t worried about dropping Grumbot, not to mention his arms were getting a bit tired of carrying so much weight for so long already.

“Th-there’s s-something wr-wrong with m-me.” Grumbot spoke around when Mumbo could see the quartz mansion again.

“”I know Grum. We’re going to find a way to fix you.”

“N-no. N-not that… T-the a-admin. Dream. H-He’s… it h-hurts…”

“Don’t worry Grum. It’s going to be okay.”

Grian got ahead of everyone by flying back to the quartz mansion. He shouldn’t have even left there in the first place. But he had been running after Grum, hadn’t he. If Grumbot hadn’t gone a different way or tricked them, he would have been near his kid. Instead both of the bots were with Mumbo and he was chunks away.

He was pretty sure he was nearing the mansion again and started to slowly descend, but it quickly turned into a drop as a splitting headache came out of nowhere. Grian cursed and looked around with tears blurring his vision, aiming for the nearest body of water and hoping he hit it. And fortunately he did.

For a moment the headache cleared, but then it was back again and Grian gritted his teeth. “Alright, what do you want?”

‘Ah!’

“Why are you surprised? You’re the one trying to get my attention.”

‘I was? I mean, I guess I was.’

Grian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh you’re new, aren’t you. Who let you be a Watcher? You sound pretty young.”

‘I don’t know. I guess I’ve just always been one. Perhaps I was just born one?’

“People aren’t just born as watchers.” Grian replied, though he actually wasn’t completely sure about that. “Well, what’s your name?”

‘Eyes. And you’re Grian?’

That made Grian pause. “Yes, how do you know that?”

‘I- We need some help. It’s about Console.’

“You mean Grum? We’re trying to help him already. He’s my son.”

‘Yes, I’m trying to help him too. But the admin is gone so we need a new one or a new console to replace Console.’

“Don’t call Grum that.”

‘I’m not sure what you mean.’

“You’re calling Grum ‘Console’ instead of using his name.” Grian half growled.

‘No. Grum is Grum. But Console is Console. They have been separated into different programs. Of course doing anything with Console right now is dangerous but-’

Grian forced away the Watcher communication, shaking the water out of his feathers as they shifted back to their normal colors. They quickly changed back as he quickly made a new portal and went in it, shooting a message to everyone first.

“Well look who it is. Didn’t expect to see you around.”

“Why do I always run into you first Lynn?” Grian complained about the other Watcher.

“Who knows? Maybe it’s your own fault and you just always make your way in near me.”

Grian sighed. “Look, I’m not really in the mood for this right now. Going through a bit of a crisis and I need some things.”

“Alright fine, what is it?”

“I’d rather talk to Noah, Pin or Goof. They’ve got a better chance of having what I need.”

Lynn crossed their arms. “Really, and you think I can’t help you Xel?”

“No, I don’t, because you still won’t call me Grian.” The avian glared before starting to walk off.

“Can I at least know? If I can’t help, no skin off your back. If I can, it gets the job done quicker.”

Grian groaned, but did relent and answered Lynn. “Alright fine. I’m hoping that the console from when Evo was starting is still around. We’ve got a world which was using one and a missing admin, but what they were using for a console needs to be… turned off.”

“So? Admin can leave their world even without a console and it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but the admin got taken to hels.”

Lynn’s eyes widened a bit. “Okay yeah that would change things. Definitely puts the world in danger.”

“Which is why I’m after the console. Other thing I need is information on a new Watcher.”

“New Watcher?” Lynn asked, interest piqued. “How new?”

“New as in they had no clue what they were doing when they opened up communications and I responded.”

“Okay that’s something I can look into. What’s their name?”

“They said their name was Eyes.”

“Hmm, fitting.” Lynn said with a slight impressed nod. “Well, I’ll look into that. Pin’s in the library last I checked.”

“Good to know.” Grian answered, walking off to find Pin.

“Hello!” Tommy woke up with a start, Grian suddenly standing over him and having shouted. Tommy cursed and fell out of his bed, getting tangled in his sheets. He was about to curse out his brother when he realized it wasn’t really Grian.

“Oh, NPG. Why the fuck did you wake me up like that?”

“I thought it was important to wake you and I wasn’t sure if touching you would work.” NPG explained, before slowly poking Tommy’s shoulder. “Oh! It would have. My bad.”

Tommy groaned, wanting to go back to sleep. “Okay, so why did you need me awake?”

“I had some news for you! You see, I saw the messages from you earlier about being stuck and heard no one could figure it out, so I went to the place you and the others went to to tell them since you had been over there. Someone told me some coordinates and I got there and Xannes was there as well as you.”

“As well as what?!” Tommy shouted, waking some of the other hermits who were still there from the sleepover, especially since the sun hadn’t risen yet.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t fully you. Just your body I guess. It’s there and it’s breathing and stuff, but it’s like it’s stuck sleeping, meanwhile you’re here. And someone named Ghostbur is having the same problem.”

“He is?!”

“Oh, you know him?” NPG asked, to which Tommy nodded. “Well apparently he’s stuck in someone’s house because he was there looking for them, then suddenly he’s alive and can’t leave the place.”

“Have they figured out how to fix it yet?” Tommy asked, though he didn’t have much hope.

“No… not yet. They’re still helping Grum and Jrum.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Tommy sighed. The various hermits that had woken up started asking questions, but Tommy didn’t really want to answer them, so he let NPG take the lead as he got back into bed. It at the very least explained why he looked the way he did. He was essentially dead.

He moved his hand to the wound in his gut. It doesn’t physically hurt, but thinking about it does. He knows he’s like Ghostbur and is forgetting the bad things, but his death is… happy. He’s looking down at Grum who’s about to kill him, but before it happened, Tommy got through to Grum and made Dream upset. He knew he was probably going to lose his last life there and yet he wasn’t scared.

In that moment, Tommy didn’t care. Sure, maybe part of him was used to respawning from Hermitcraft, or maybe he thought Grum wouldn’t actually kill him. But he had gotten killed, and it was to help his family. Normally that ended with getting betrayed. He supposed it technically did this time too, but that wasn’t Grum’s fault, it was Dream’s.

It felt weird. He wasn’t dead, not really. He wasn’t a ghost like Ghostbur since he wasn’t see through and could actually touch things. He also wasn’t a zombie like Cleo because he definitely had a pulse. He guessed he was just something new, and that was a bit frightening since it meant none of them had any clue on how to help, but at the very least, he wasn’t alone.

Mumbo jumped up from his seat on Grum’s bed when Grian came in. The message he had gotten from the Watcher had really only made him more nervous, wondering why there was any emergency business for him. The redstoner was surprised to see a large rectangular black box in Grian’s arms, but guessed that it was related to the emergency. “Grian, is everything alright?”

Grian put the box on the ground. “Not everything, but it’s better. I got us a new console.”

Mumbo’s eyes widened and he looked over at the box. “Really? How did you find one?”

“It was left over from Evo. We only really needed it for the first few months, so once we were at a point where newer technology could be used, it was switched out. Pretty much no Watcher throws stuff away like this, so it was still hanging around mainly gathering dust.”

“Well hopefully this will work.” Mumbo looked the machine over. “I haven’t used one in ages, so it may take some trial and error.”

“If you need help, we could probably get Sam or Fundy.” Bad suggested. “Sam is good with redstone if that’s what you need. And I know Fundy has been around Grum a lot, so he might know something.”

Mumbo looked up at that. “Right! Fundy said he was being asked to ‘help’ with Grum. I’m guessing that’s who Grum was after.”

“Right, you did mention he was looking for someone. Do we have any idea where Fundy is?”

“Well…” Bad rubbed the back of his head. “Jrum sort of got him pulled into all the egg stuff, so he might be at his place, or he might be stuck with Sam. I only really got away since it’s sort of hard to stop someone of my size, especially with a child involved.”

“Yeah, parenthood does that.” Grian agreed. “So where would each of those places b-” Grian’s comm buzzed and he frowned angrily. Sure enough, coordinates from Eyes. “I guess that answers that.”

“More coordinates?” Mumbo asked, not looking up from the old console, busy trying to figure it out.

“Yes.” Grian spoke, his voice filled with venom.

“Woah, what’s with you?”

Grian shoved his comm back into his pocket. “Whoever this Eyes person is, they’ve got Watcher powers and magic. They did something only other Watchers should be able to do. When I went to get the console, I also tried to figure out who they were, and there was absolutely nothing. There’s no reason there should be nothing, and yet there was. That means whoever this is isn’t a Watcher, but has the magic of one, which is bad news.”

“Like we need anything more going on.” Bad sighed, earning noises of agreement.

“I guess I’ll head over there since I’m fastest anyhow.” Grian sighed. “I guess see you in a bit.”

“Don’t get into too much trouble.” Mumbo warned. He knew Grian likely wouldn’t, but it was more something to try and give things a lighter tone. And based on Grian’s response, it seemed to work.

“You know I’ll never make promises about that.” He gave a small smirk, then left, flying off.

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #tommyinnit #grumbot #mumbo jumbo #jrumbot #grian #watcher!grian #grian xelqua #avian!Grian #npc grian #npg #the watchers (evo)#badboyhalo

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universitypenguin · 3 years

Note

What happened to u? U okay?

Hello!

First off, thank you for your concern. I appreciate it and I needed it after the past two days. To answer your question - I'm doing great.

I don’t have a lot of context about your question, but I’m guessing your concern is due to my recent blocking spree. A day ago, I went through my followers list and found some minors. I’ve previously seen smut fanfic writers concerned by underage people interacting with their posts. Until I had to block a few of them, I wasn’t aware how uncomfortable it would make me feel.

Since the blocking spree, I've had a lot of thoughts. I'm about to spew them everywhere. You might regret asking me if I was okay. Sorry about that. No one needs to read this whole manifesto about my rollercoaster of emotions the past few days. But in the interest of transparency, I'm posting this very long note.

What I want my readers to know is the following:

Tumblr is both a place for fanfiction and a social media site.

When I interact with followers and write explicit content, I have to be careful about what I'm saying and who I'm saying it to.

I don't intend to block or purge my followers in the future.

As long as I appropriately tag and put warnings on my work, that is adequate protection for my blog. Everything I write containing explicit content is tagged.

However, I won't interact with users who don't have an age stated in their bio.

There have to be boundaries, given the content of my writing. But I've also come around to the realization that I'm not capable of policing every interaction. Tumblr is a public forum. Minors following me makes me uncomfortable. But by the same token, my work is clearly labeled at 18+ and so is my blog.

There's a lot of explicit content out there for minors if you really think about it. In my high school freshman English class we talked about the book "The Color Purple." Believe me, that was explicit and we were only 14. Any minor with a library card and a Google browser can access a lot more intense content than what I write. I hope they're all being safe, but I can't have a melt down blocking spree again.

I'm not a cop, I'm not a parent, and what minors consume is down to them and the adult responsible for them. If I know someone is a minor I'll block them, should I notice they're trying to interact with me. Otherwise, I'm not purging my followers ever again. It's too much drama. I'd rather leave Tumblr than do that twice. I'm tired and I'm starting to work on my post graduate classes, I work full time in a demanding job, I'm in the process of editing my novel, and trying to keep up with my personal life. Quite literally, I don't have time to block. Writing fanfic is supposed to be my fun time. Let's keep it that way.

Due to the fact that some people I blocked were later unblocked after I took a closer look at their blogs, I'm posting a full explanation below. A quick summary is this:

After only writing for three months, I'd amassed 500 followers. On Monday I blocked almost 200 of them. Then I reviewed my block list and editing down some people who were prematurely blocked. [I assume the anon is one of the unblocked who had me disappear from their dash. Sorry!] This blocking thing isn't sustainable. In the future I'll run my blog differently as far as interaction goes in an effort to be responsible.

Continue reading for the saga of:

The Great Blocking Spree and Existential Crisis of an Erotic Fanfic Writer.

The Blocking Spree:

On Monday I realized a thirteen year old was following me and interacting with my work. This creeped me out.

*Commence blocking spree*

Then I realized how daunting my followers list was. I had 500 followers prior to Monday. That day I blocked about 200 people (some of them prematurely - more on that later.) So after the daunting task of trying to assume, to check bios for ages, to review blog content and determine the user's age, I was tired. Today, I even took a moment to reconsider if I wanted to use Tumblr. Because if all this is my responsibility, maybe I don't have the time or dedication to manage it. When I can be chill, I try to be. This attitude also affected by blocking. It contributed to me unblocking people. When I was doing the blocking spree, I'd give people with no age in their bio a fair shot by reviewing their posts.

I blocked some bot accounts, then a bunch of blank blogs, some ambiguous people who very well could be of age. For the first 100 followers I was pretty aggressive. Then my attention span dropped off and I was a bit more ambivalent. I realized I was doing a crappy job of moderating and wondered what the point was.

The point was that the thirteen year old interacting with my work freaked me out. When I found two sixteen year old followers, it pushed me to continue the purge.

So on I go, blocking. I'm so responsible for doing this, right? But my methodology is crap. What is context for being an adult? Someone had posted about budgeting advice. I thought the budgeting advice was too good for it not to have come from an adult. But my father's a financial advisor and to be honest, I could have given that level of advice at fifteen just from osmosis. Someone had pictures of themselves entering their marijuana plants in the Oregon State Fair. Okay, you've got to be over 18. I didn't block them. Someone else complained about their stats professor and I didn't block them. But in retrospect, one of my high school friends got permission to take college level math courses when we were seniors. She was seventeen when she had a stats professor. The thought circles back - what am I accomplishing here? Next, I went back and unblocked someone who ranted about her Tinder matches being 60 year old men. I wondered if their post was even real. I've lied on the internet before. Nonetheless, I persisted and worked through all 500 followers. When I was done I had 312 followers left.

Post Blocking Spree Existential Crisis:

I know that all the blocking in the world can't stop a teenager who wants to read smut fanfic. I'm not much for posting on social media and I'm not used to a lot of anonymous interaction online. Honestly, I got rid of my SM accounts during college when I felt it was wasting my time. This is the first time I've really use a social media site to post content since college. My twitter account is unused, my Instagram is for close personal friends only, and my TikTok is for mindless consumption of cat videos. (I've trained the algorithm to feed me only cat videos, it's great and I highly recommend it.) I don't post on TikTok, so I don't consider it full use, just lurking.

Okay, Alice, get back to the point....

Right, being anonymous on social media. My blocks are a fence and it's based on self identification from the blogs that follow me. I have little faith in underage consumers to out themselves. I have even less faith in their honesty or respect for an adult's boundaries. They're at a stage in life where they want to push the boundaries. Telling them no is all but inviting them in. I did my blocking spree because I was worried about backlash from someone's parents. But what reasonable judge would come after a fanfic writer? Come on. Logical thoughts but me emotional distress was still brewing.

Why I am the one responsible for who clicks the follow button on my blog? I've always clearly identified what I write and tagged my work as smut.

That thought snapped me out of my whirlwind of anxious thoughts. So I started looking into the laws. My regular work involves medicine, not the legal profession, so I was lost. I found some state level laws that made me glad I'd gone on a blocking spree. California and Florida have specific language in their laws about 'providing minors with explicit content.' But what exactly is that? What I researched applied to the following activities: co-writing smut fanfic with other people, sexting, roleplaying and online messaging.

I run a fanfic blog with limited interaction. I've never done an ask. I don't roleplay on here and I don't want to.

The blocks weren't personal. They were partly based on the awareness that Tumblr is an interactive site and a place that's had a problem with child pornography in the past. But I'm not the smut police. I suck at blocking, and I doubt I did a good job of purging my followers list. This is when it hit me that boundaries are only what I can enforce. They've never been about how other people relate to me, only how I relate to them. (Wow. I've never sounded more like my mother in my life...) After this thought, I started considering what actions I ought to take if I wanted to keep posting fanfic on Tumblr.

My Post Blocking Spree Clarity...

It's up to me who I interact with. I don't have to reply to every comment and re-blog, but I'd like to. I'm stuck between wanting to write for everyone and handling interactions on a social media site that's mostly anonymous.

The fact remains: I can't be the smut police because I suck at it.

What I've decided is that I'll make it very clear on my blog that this is an 18+ space where I publish erotic fanfiction. Smut will always be appropriately marked. I'm not going to interact with reviews, re-blogs, and messages from accounts who don't have their age in their profile. I won't include them in my tag list either. The internet is a public forum. Just as with publishing erotica, once it's out there online for download, it's done. As a ghost writer and an author, I don't control who buys my original fiction, which is just as spicy as my fanfiction. (Trust me, it's explicit. I once had a romance editor tell me I should dial it back on the smutty parts of a novel because "it's a lot of sex for a non-erotica market.") The key difference on Tumblr is about interaction. And that's something I can control. I can decide when I reply to other users. What brought me around to this was the realization that even after the blocking spree, I can't review every single like I get. That's an amount of time and mental energy that's beyond me. Just the past two days have been exhausting and sapped my will to write. Which sucks because I need to go write the next chapter of "Restitution" before tomorrow.

I think the reasons I went on the blocking spree are nuanced. The thirteen year old freaked me out. So did the other underaged people who had ages in their bios. But it also relates to my work. In my job I've seen some nasty child abuse cases. Early on in my career, when I was a 23 year old new hire, I was working on an autopsy for a child abuse victim who'd been murdered by their parent. It was so terrible and graphic, I had to ask one of my older colleagues to take the case. This colleague didn't like me. But she took one look at my face and took the file. She closed out the review without a question and never brought it up again to anyone. I was very grateful. Where I used to work (and where this incident took place) was a major city that holds the unfortunate title of being the human trafficking capital of the US. And something I learned working there was that most human trafficking victims go with their captors willingly. In two years at that job, I never saw one who'd been kidnapped from a dark alley like you see on TV. They were all groomed on social media and thought they were escaping their families (who were often overbearing, toxic, or dysfunctional) for a get away with friends. It was a fun adventure with their internet buddies, until it wasn't.

In retrospect, the underage interaction I found on my blog made me react because of what I've been through. The autopsy case kept coming back to me today while I was at work and I've finally untangled my emotions enough to figure out what caused my melt down. When I was blocking, I was feeling an anxious motivation that I know can only stem from the stress I deal with at my job. Don't feel sorry for me about this - I know my work in medicine helps a lot of people and it's a tremendously satisfying career.

Our Saga's Resolution & How I'm Going to Deal With This In The Future...

- - - - -

In post block clarity, I offer this conclusion:

I'm writing on a public forum. My work is appropriately tagged as smut. In the future, I will also use the tag #no minors to help with filtering. I've always asked underage people not to interact. And on a public forum, what more can I reasonably do? Going forward I will only interact with those who have their age posted in their bio. But blocking sprees and policing every interaction isn't feasible.

I'll review how I'm going to run my tag lists as well. I need to think it over and let my followers know my decision as to if I'll continue using them. Because tagging is definitely interaction and my current tag list was not screened at all. *face palm*

Finally, to my readers who have blank blogs or don't have an age listed. I respect your right to privacy and I'm careful with my personal information as well. But I've also had an uncomfortable two days. If you've lasted through this venting session until now, you must understand that I'm upset by underage interaction. I'm setting my own boundaries and going forward, I'll own my side of the internet. No interaction from me, unless I know your age. Full stop - no exceptions. I think it is reasonable for me to suggest that you leave something on your blog that signifies you are not a minor, whatever that may be. Someone who I didn't block that stands out in my memory had a bio that said "90s baby." It was simple, direct, and left no doubt they were over 18. No age reveal and not even a name. If you put something like this on your blog it'll help explicit content creators feel more comfortable about their interactions.

I went on a spree this Monday and I admit to being heavy handed and aggressive about pruning followers. I had an emotional reaction due to work stress and I didn't think things through logically. I'm relieved for the chance explain myself and set new boundaries that I'm capable of sticking to in the future. But remember - the block button is on my side of the screen. At the end of the day, you might be unhappy with me for the block, but it's my button, it's my blog, and I'll use it as I see fit.

Thank you for reading.

#tw vent #tw child abuse #tw trauma #tw violence #tw human trafficking #penguin blog update #new rules #i'm sorry #its been a long week #I almost left tumblr over this #blocking spree #clarity #smut #no minors #smut fanfiction #smut writing #smut blog #I talk about my work trauma from medicine #boundaries

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igotbellarkeforthat · 3 years

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Tagged by these lovely human beans @nathanmillers @immortalpramheda @ninappon @togetherkru and @infp-with-all-the-feelings

1. Why did you choose your url?

BECAUSE THE WAY BELLAMY BLAKE LOOKED CLARKE GRIFFIN RIGHT IN THE FACE AND SAID “I GOT YOU FOR THAT” WITH SO MUCH SOFTNESS AND TENDERNESS COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY ENDED ME.

Ahem.

2. Any side blogs? If you have them, name them and why you have them

Nope!

3. How long have you been on Tumblr?

Since July 26, 2014. But I didn’t actually post anything on Tumblr until 2017, I think.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Yep! ‘i’ll give that to queue’

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

I’m pretty sure I came to Tumblr looking for Burzek content. Chicago PD was one of the first shows I got really into, but none of my friends or family watched it, so I looked into Tumblr and now I’m stuck here and will probably never leave. (Jk I love it here)

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Because the Shadow and Bone series made my Malina dreams come true, and I thought the colors and vibes of this scene were pretty.

7. Why did you choose your header?

I made it myself because Bellarke owns my soul

8. What post of yours has the most notes?

This one from Season 6 of The 100 when I was still young, naïve, and full of hope

9. How many mutuals do you have?

I’m not exactly sure, but there are quite a few of you, and I love you all so much 😘

10. How many followers do you have?

599! Every time I hit 600, it’s a porn bot and I block, so I’ve been sitting here for the last week or two.

11. How many people do you follow?

235

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

Haha, I’ve made several crack posts, but all my shitposting goes on inside my head. 🙃

13. How often do you use Tumblr?

It depends on the day, honestly. I usually get in a quick scroll at least once a day, but I haven’t been on here as much since The 100 ended. I will be participating in the newly revamped BFSN every week though. And I’ve been on here for like 2 hours this morning trying to catch up on tag games haha.

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog? Who won?

I had one person try to start a fight on a post I made about showrunners needing to respect the critical thinking skills of their audience. I just told them I didn’t need them to agree with me on an opinion I posted to my personal blog, and then they left me alone.

15. How do you feel about ‘you need to compare this’ posts?

I’m not sure what this is tbh. Anyone know and wanna help a girl out?

16. Do you like tag games?

Yes! (sometimes it takes me like a month to get around to them, but I swear I will do them!)

17. Do you like ask games?

I do, but I don’t do a whole lot of them outside of like, BWC, because a lot of times people just don’t see them in the vastness of the Tumblr dash.

18. Which one of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

ALL OF YOU. EVERY SINGLE ONE I CAN’T BELIEVE ALL THE COOL PEOPLE THAT FOLLOW ME BACK ❤

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

No crushes, no. But have I made some of the sweetest, most talented friends and acquaintances and am I in constant awe of their kindness and creativity? YOU BETCHA. 🥰

20. tags (if you guys want to)

@bookwormforalways @natassakar @spacebell and anyone else who would like to!

#tag game #about me #just for fun

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dead-end-street · 3 years

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tag game ✨

Tagged by @cuddlybitch :DDD

1. why did you choose your url?

It’s a line from a song ‘Two Shots Of Happy, One Shot Of Sad’ by Matt Dusk.

Walked together down a dead end street We were mixing the bitter with the sweet I don't try to figure out what we might of had Just two shots of happy, one shot of sad

2. any sideblogs?

I used to have some side blogs when I was in Misfits fandom and I still have access to them but they’re abandoned now. Used to run the main Simon and Alisha blog and Fuck Yeah Iwantonia, along with a few other ones for the cast. ;D

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

First signed up in 2009 I think? I migrated over here from LJ and got into the Glee fandom (cringe) but soon it shifted to Misfits and later Pacific Rim, and then I’ve just been flitting from one hyperfixation to another xDDD

4. do you have a queue tag?

Not really, maybe ‘q’? I rarely queue stuff. I think the only time I really do it would be if I’m going away on a long trip but even then I get too lazy. If you see posts on here it’s 95% of the time me reblogging :P

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

I think LJ was sort of fizzling out at the time and fanforum was fun but too much drama and I wanted a place to post pretty things and just be in my own drama-free bubble.

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Because I love my wife, Ms. Hong Cha-young 😘

7. why did you choose your header?

Cus that underpass hug in the snow will forever be etched in my heart. It was so beautifully shot and it was the first time Vincenzo really seriously considered a ride or die partnership with Cha-young. He’d left her out of the plan and ignored her calls in an attempt to protect and shield her from his world. But the fact that she ran to him and hugged him with worry really touched him. I think he hadn’t felt cared for in a long time and her concern made him want to let her in finally and he let himself hug her back even with bloody hands.

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

I think my Pacific Rim gifset of Raleigh deciding he wants to get back into the jaeger once he meets Mako :D It has over 45k notes, which is insane and I’m glad I don’t get notifications cus ppl still reblog it on a daily basis, 8 years later.

9. how many mutuals do you have?

It looks like 53 but a lot of them are MIA or don’t post often :(

10. how many followers do you have?

Just over 3k. I try to block the bots but I’m sure I’ve missed a bunch and probably 400 of those are bots :P

11. how many people do you follow?

112

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

Probably in the past

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

I go through phases. I will go a year checking/posting almost every day, and then suddenly just stop for months and then go back later when a new obsession hits. Right now it’s almost daily.

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

Lol yes. Not recently tho

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

Not a fan of the “if you don’t reblog this you’re a trash person who doesn’t care about ___” cus usually I DO care about that issue, but you just made me wanna spite you and not reblog. If it’s to signal boost something important like for health/safety or something that could save someone’s life I try to reblog but sometimes I get overwhelmed by the news and some posts are too graphic that I have to keep scrolling. Doesn’t mean I don’t care, but I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to deal with it then.

16. do you like tag games?

Yep!

17. do you like ask games?

Yes! But I’ll only get like 3 asks and 2 of them will be from my friends who I’m talking to in the group chat and the other one is from an anon so it’s not as fun :(

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I think probably Hannah @cuddlybitch for all her kdrama gifs, but I think back in the day a lot of my mutuals were tumblr famous in the Misfits fandom. We basically ran the community on here during S1-3 then we dropped the show once Antonia and Iwan left lmao

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

20. tags?

Gonna tag @cupcakesandtv @whataboutateakettle @graceful-exits and anyone else who feels like doing it :)

#tag game

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sylvain-writes · 3 years

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Guarded Hearts and Safe Houses (Leonardo x Reader) Chapter 8/9

Rated: T

Gender Neutral Reader, canon typical violence/injury, light angst, strangers to lovers, supportive family.

for @melodiousmelodrama

Raph tracks the signal of Leo's phone with his. "He ain’t far."

You take off at a sprint, but Raphael is faster. And so strong. He grabs you with an "alley-oop" and lays you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

It's terribly uncomfortable, but by the way you bounce against his shell you can tell you're making great time.

You expect to hear the sounds of fighting growing louder. The maniacal laughter of the Krang. The mechanical screech of battered robots taking their last stand against the ninja turtles.

You don't expect Raphael's voice to boom against your ear, rendering your ears to ring for a full minute.

"Leo!"

Considering the panic in his shout, you're surprised Raph has the foresight to put you down easy before rushing into the fight.

When you find your feet, you see the same as he. There's no time to think. The guys move in sync. Always in motion. Dancing around each other, springboarding off of each other, going hard against the aliens without a break to rest.

And you see the cause for Raph's panicked cry. Leo's lost a sword. You don't think he'd be able to lift it if he had it.

The fight brings him toward you and you inch closer, staying out of sight as best you can. "What happened?"

"You shouldn't be here!" He growls at you. His eyes are blown wide with adrenaline, he's unfocused. His mind clouded by pain and fear.

"Take this," you say, holding up a few glucose tablets to his face. "It'll help."

"With the pain?"

You flinch. You think that may be the first time he's admitted to that kind of vulnerability. You wish you could give him something more. "I'll find something stronger."

Leo takes what's offered without further question. "Stay outta sight," he pleads. "Don't get in the way."

"Let me help."

"You have a problem listening?"

"Only so far as you have a problem admitting when you need help." You lift his katana, the long curved sword too heavy for you to do much by way of fighting. But you find your stance anyway. You won't forget what you've learned. The forms Raph taught you when he needed to keep calm through long nights on the rooftop. Of course you had been weilding a pair of thin axes from your cousin's cosplay.

Leo takes the sword from your hands and sheaths it at his back. You were right about the injury to his arm. He doesn't trust it to fight.

"You know how to use this?" He presents you with a short blade from his belt.

You do the fancy toss and flip Raph Donnie taught you.

"No goofing off. If you're going to do this, I need to know you can do this."

The Krang come through the ceiling with a crash and drywall crumbles down on you from overhead.

"Doesn't look like we get a choice." You dive into the fight head first and Leo doesn't have time to object.

You get split up, but you can hear him. He shouts for you to dodge an incoming bot before you even see it coming and you think the most you're doing is being a distraction for the bots while Leo heads for the biggest brain of them all.

Leader against leader. You watch them square off. The bots grab you and hold you to make you watch, not that you would dare turn away.

Leonardo doesn't look your way, however. And no matter how many ways you reason it out, it hurts. The metal hands clamp down on your shoulders and drop you to your knees and Leo doesn't even spare you a glance.

Just a distraction, you remind yourself. You keep your mouth shut. Letting Leo have his focus on the Krang is the best chance for survival. Yours, his, and everyone else in the city. In the world.

The weight of Leo's responsibility hits you like a kick in the stomach. He really takes on so much, alone.

Mikey let out a whoop from the towering building to your left. And the surprise of it brings a smile to your face. "Look for old friends in high places,” he says. “Fortune favors the bold."

He flips down to your rescue, dispatching the bots with ease. When he lays waste to your last guard, Mikey gives you a light chuck on the chin. "Horoscopes, amiright? They never lie!"

Raph is next to drop into place behind his brother. Donnie last, but not without reinforcements.

"These blasters will eminnate a percussive blast that should disrupt the pink matter of their neurostructure. If we can lure them out of the robot casings, I think even a concentrated sonic blast could neutralize the threat."

Raph reaches for a gun. "You had me at blaster, Don. Just hand 'em over."

"Where's Leo?" Donatello asks as he assigns you and Mikey with a blaster each. "Radar said he'd be here."

"Krang led him off the ledge," you say testing the weight of the gun in your hand. "This way."

The turtles are faster than you. And the four of them together move in synchronous, fatal beauty.

Mikey delivers the final blast, paying the Krang back for pulverising him that night a month ago.

Once the Krang is destroyed, Leo looks to his brothers. All standing, weary but whole. They watch as their leader passes through the destruction calling your name.

You're trapped under a fallen wall, but you're fine. You try to tell him as much, but he quickens his step.and his shouts grow more frantic.

"Leo, I'm here. I'm ok. I'm here."

Leo struggles with the block and you assure him you’re trapped, not pinned. It takes more convincing than you think is necessary considering there’s no pain or panic in your voice. Only relief.

Killing the Krang caused the other aliens to fall lifeless to the ground. And while city clean up will be a mess likely drawing more questions than answers, you’re grateful the fight is over.

Sirens blare on the streets below. But they’re a distant sound. Leo is in front of you, promising you’ll be out soon.

“Guys!” He shouts, and his voice is breaking when he realizes he can’t lift half an abandoned warehouse without assistance. “Guys! Hurry!”

Then, you hear what his more sensitive ears have already picked up. The rubble is shifting.

Your heart rate speeds up, each beat thumps in your chest hard enough you wonder if Leo can hear it.

"I see you!" He says as he and his brothers work frantically to get you out.

You blink through a gap in the rubble, a confused tilt to your neck because, yes, he sees you. You've caught his glances every few seconds as he scrambles to move rock and steel from the pile that's locked you in.

"I was wrong," he says as Raph helps him cast a concrete slab aside. "Before.”

As Leo speaks, his voice cracks, and his brothers pick up their pace while he reaches for you through the gap. He pulls you to him and once you're safe, you recognize his hands on your arms are trembling.

His blue eyes shine with apology. "I was wrong. I see you. What you do for us. I see you when you think no one's looking."

You hear the truth in his words, but you don't understand.

"I see you when you're with the others. You help them feel understood. You're a friend when they need someone to trust."

"I help them…"

"Me. And me." His hand lifts, shaking, as he tucks a hair behind your ear. "You see me. You've always seen me. But I didn't think I wanted to be seen."

"I’m a distraction,” you argue despite the way it breaks your heart. “I make you lose focus.”

Leo drops his head, shaking it slowly as he looks down at his feet. “Only because I’ve been fighting a war within myself. It blinded me to what was going on around me.”

You hear, more than see, his brothers shifting behind you, because you can’t take your eyes away from Leo.

“Almost losing you,” he says, “without making my apology. I couldn’t-”

“So don’t,” you tell him, placing a hand on his chest. Touching his chin just enough to tip it up.

He looks at you with his mouth drawn in a frown. “I’m sorry I pushed you away, when all I wanted… what I truly wanted… was this.” His thumb caresses your cheek and you lift your hand to cradle his face.

When he leans down for a kiss, Mikey gasps and Raph rears back with a low “Whoa” but you don’t notice any of that. Leo’s mouth is firm against yours, but the press of his lips is tender, slow. Your arms reach up to slide around his neck to pull him down, to pull him close. He lifts you off the ground instead. And he smiles into your kiss.

You can’t believe you’re witnessing his first real smile and you don’t even get to see it. But feeling it against your own is so much better, you think.

“I almost lost you,” Leo mumbles against your lips, as if remembering anew. His uninjured arm tightens around you and it feels like he’s holding on for dear life.

The truth of his words hits you square in the chest. The shock of the day - terror and relief - wash over you like a flood and you start to shake and laugh in his embrace.

He checks you over to make sure you’re not hurt and you assure him for what feels like the thousandth time that you’re fine, before he looks you in the eyes again, takes your face in his hand, and brings your heads together for another kiss.

Donatello clears his throat forcefully enough you know he means to interrupt. “Undoubtedly this display of affection is lovely, but it is public and a bit uncomfortable for present company. Additionally, there’s the matter of us being out in the open - in broad daylight - to consider. So, perhaps it’s best we take this party elsewhere.”

You look around at the destruction and down at Leo’s injured arm. It’s all worse than anyone is letting on. But the city is protected. The city will heal.

“May I take you home?” Leo asks. He looks to Donnie to confirm he’s got them somewhere safe.

“It’ll calm my mind,” Leo says, stroking your cheek, “knowing you’re with your family.”

In spite of everything, you have him. You smile. “You think I’d walk home alone in this mess?”

#tmnt x reader #leonardo x reader #leo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #gender neutral reader #my writing #guarded hearts and safe houses fic

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