#glock fics

[glockmonkey]

EXPERIENCE TRANS JOSHUA!!

[glockmonkey]

i wrote a chapgone fic!! it took way too long!! congrats!!!

[glockmonkey]

so I wrote a small fic about the week spent in funn funerals. writing be upon ye

[glockmonkey]

hi. I wrote a thing about link because I’m care he. read it if ye dare

[glockmonkey]

Take A Seat

Chapter 1: Prologue/Right Back Nastya

Nastya pays a visit to the cockpit.

Read from beginning

CWs: references to drugs, some fire, general angst

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During the night hours, the Aurora was stunningly quiet.

The crew of the starship had long since put down their assorted weapons and set off for bed, whether they were to be found sleeping or not. The bright lighting of the ship had dulled, leaving only the dim glow of the light strips on the floor, guiding passage through her endless halls. A certain chill was in the air, but it went mostly unnoticed, as everyone who would mind was either asleep or too tired to care. The ship was empty, almost lonely, without the chaos and livelihood of its waking hours.

All was still. Save for, of course, the occasional whirring and banging, coming from the cockpit.

Having no real need for sleep, the Drumbot could often be found awake in his chambers, during the early hours. Meddling with some knick-knack or other, turning his thoughts into paper and muttering to himself.

Incidentally, this was also where many of the Mechanisms found themselves, should they be awake. Brian was used to this, by now. He liked being able to help people, even if his part revolved largely around being a listening ear to whoever needed one most.

Keep reading on ao3

[glockmonkey]

Keep Your Prize On The Eyes Chapter 9: Return of the King

Read update/ Read from beginning

Jon takes on some extra work. Sasha stresses. Martin also stresses, and Tim bothers everyone endearingly, as he is wont to do. Plot conversations are made, and the author adds a tag they've been waiting to add for months.

Content warnings: Manipulation/gaslighting, obsessive behaviour as a result of trauma & mental illness (mentioned), swearing, slight gore, bad self-care (including bad eating habits)

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April 17th, 2016

Over the past few weeks, Sasha had been acting… strange, to say the least. She’d been keeping herself holed up in the Archivists’ office, despite Tim’s best attempts to coax her out.

Nearly every evening, either Tim or Martin would come by, inviting Sasha to one social convention or another. And nearly every evening, Sasha, deep in thought, would politely decline.

In light of this, she would remain in the Archive nearly as late as Jon.

He supposed he was a bad influence.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel bothered. He had half a mind to take a page from Martin’s book and make her a cup of tea, or something.

God, Martin. He’d been coming into the archivists’ office more often, nowadays. Laden with tea, usually, and Jon would grow increasingly annoyed at how he never failed to greet him so cheerfully and smile that ridiculous polite smile and get Jon’s tea exactly right and-

Well. He was getting ahead of himself.

Regardless, Jon was bothered by a lot of things, lately. Martin. Sasha. The worms that littered the pavement before the entrance and never ceased to leave Martin rubbing his hands up and down his arms and legs for the next two hours.

Jon guessed he had been acting strangely, as well. One couldn’t help it, with the amount of things going on.

But it was fine. He was fine. Things were fine.

Except, Sasha wouldn’t stop gazing morosely at her growing pile of paperwork.

A cup of tea, or something, Jon thought to himself.

He cleared his throat, causing Sasha to jump nearly out of her seat.

“Do you…” Jon started, and then stopped.

Sasha looked at him expectantly. There was no annoyance in her face, but Jon still felt trivialized.

“I want to help,” he said suddenly. “With the, ah,” he gestured towards Sasha’s looming pile of documents. “Complicated statements.”

“The what?” Sasha asked.

“You know,” he said uncomfortably. “The statements that Elias gives you, to give to me, that I give to you, et cetera. The ones that don’t record digital.”

Keep reading on AO3

[glockmonkey]

Take a Seat

Chapter 2: Speak of the d’Ville

Jonny stops by.

Read update/Read from beginning

Content warnings: guilt, angst, swearing, anxiety attacks/mental illness, morality discussion

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More often than one would think, Jonny would stop by.

Rarely saying anything, he’d creep into the pilot’s quarters in such a way that Brian sometimes failed to notice. Jonny, being a force of chaos, was generally hard to miss, making this a cause for concern.

On these occasions, Brian continued with his work, pausing once or twice to make certain Jonny didn’t need anything other than his company. 

Most times, Jonny would stay at his spot next to the wall, knees to chest and head to knees. Calming down from whatever nightmare or horrid thoughts he’d been prey to. Deep in his thoughts, yet close enough to another person to keep himself from slipping too far into a panic.

Jonny was silent, mostly, on nights like this. Mostly.

Some nights, when whatever event first caused these visits had sunk its teeth too far into him, Jonny would talk. 

Keep reading on ao3

[glockmonkey]

man i’m so sorry to the people actually from the uk who read my fics... y’all have to put up with me googling stuff like “do they have froyo in england” every five minutes