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twstbookclub · 6 months

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Faded Away

SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 INCLUDED; THIS IS AN AU. THIS IS SIDE A OF A TWO PART STORY. HERE IS SIDE B.

This is side A.

Inspired by Fade Away by Riley Baron Summary: Childhood friends with Malleus, you were even supposed to marry him. You'd call him your fiancé, but he'd shoot you down with a smile. One day, Maleficia would announce that you would no longer be engaged to Malleus, but you had already decided to renounce that before, so it was okay. For Malleus, after experiencing loss in his life, everything he adored before began to fade away. Pronouns: Gender Neutral POV: 2nd Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Malleus Draconia, Changed fate, Childhood friends to lovers, lovers to strangers, angst with a sad ending, hurt no comfort Word count: 3,961

A/N: … sigh. If someone had told me a year ago that I would write nearly 4,000 words for Malleus Draconia angst, I would've laughed in their face. Despite that, I wrote this for two days and edited it for another two. I fixated on this man for FOUR DAYS nonstop, listening to playlists about falling in love with your comfort character but then saying goodbye, and I am still not done. I am genuinely proud of this work. Out of the 7 years I have been writing fanfiction, I have never been so happy to say this is one of my best works. And I don't really like Malleus like that. Attack me all y'all want, I know book 7 spoilers, and I was his stan(not simp) until I found out the truth and had to take a step BACK. I don't know what I feel about him now, but as a Silver girlie, I need someone to take the pen away from Yana Toboso.

Regardless of my feelings, I am glad I could write this and that the story turned out amazing. As I said, I'm not done, and I have another fic posting as soon as this one drops, so don't stray too far.

On that note, thank you for waiting and reading this long, longer than I would like to admit story. Enjoy.

The horns of this child were small, but the eyes of another child were fascinated at the sight of such a mature boy. The boy’s name was Malleus Draconia, the future King of Briar Valley. You were told that you would become his fiance when you grew up. You could feel your heart instantly pound and become fond of this young royal. You had already known him prior, growing up around the same time, and your families were somewhat close. Still, you couldn’t have imagined being able to marry him later down the line. He was aloof and neutral as a child, speaking to you when you would talk to him and only if he had a response. You loved him that way, anyway.

“You’re my… fiance?”

“I am! Don’t worry; I won’t go anywhere if it’s not with you!”

“Hmm… Then I can accept that.”

Growing up as teenagers was slightly different. It took some years, but he would begin to warm up to you. He would smile occasionally and accept the way you would call him “my fiance”, but still turn you down for the time being. Witnessing him become stressed caused a pang of guilt in your heart. Still, you’d quickly dissipate the feeling by messing around and seeing him feel better with your company.

“My fiance should be calm the way he usually is. How can his kingdom stay calm if he is not?”

Malleus would usually stare at you after you said things like that, then respond with, “You’re right… Alright. I will do that, but I’m not your fiance.”

Then, like clockwork, you’d laugh at him before responding, “Okay, okay, Prince Malleus. Whatever you say.”

Now, Malleus finally returned from studying at Night Raven College and settled back into his past routine. It took some months, since now there were new things he needed to learn before he could become king. He would follow without a complaint, though.

He was standing in a throne room, checking on documents and plans for the kingdom. You would simply trot in with your hands behind your back as you would often do, admiring him as your shoes would click against the floor.

“My fiance is working so hard already?” You teased, being playful and wanting to catch his attention.

“I’m not your fiance.” Malleus would say with a concentrated tone, his gruff voice echoing through the large room as the sound of documents being flipped echoed.

“Right. King Malleus.” You stopped walking to give him a bow and then approached his side. You moved your hand to cling to his arm, but knowing your behavior, he already had an arm out for you.

“Not king either. I haven’t had my coronation yet. Queen Malecifia is planning that as we speak,” Malleus spoke again, then set down the documents and turned to you, his hair slightly swaying with his movement. His green eyes stared down at you, and then he captured a slight smile on his lips. “What is it that you need from me?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see you and waste your time. I truly hope I am a bother,” you spoke playfully and took one of the loose documents into your hands to read through it. Malleus quickly took the paper before you could get too far into reading it. Right. Kingdom affairs.

Malleus gives you a look before sighing and pulling a chair out. “If I let you touch my horns, could you let me work?” He spoke, moving to sit down beside where you were standing. You grew excited at the opportunity to play with his horns and instantly went quiet to do so. You stood behind him and carefully adjusted his hair while examining every detail of the feature in front of you.

The atmosphere was quiet yet peaceful. Time felt like it was still, pen scratching paper occasionally sounds through the large room. Your hands gently held his horns, caressing them to remind yourself of its sharp and enticing structure.

Memories of childhood played through your mind as you watched him read these documents, soft breaths coming from him as his focus never broke. You did this exact thing all the time with him, especially during his study hours.

“Why do you like my horns so much?” Malleus spoke, suddenly breaking the silence and surprising you out of your trance. You thought about it momentarily, trying to find the right words to explain it, but you couldn't find a single word for how. Instead, you explained it the best you could.

“Hmm… I don’t know. There’s something about seeing these horns that gives me some reassurance. Relief that I can still be your future beloved.” you answered before fixing his hair again. Messing with him like this felt right. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, being his future partner was something of fate. There were others out there with royal status just like you. Queen Maleficia could’ve replaced or sent you away, but she hadn’t. You were thankful every time you saw his grandmother.

“I see… You’re an odd one,” Malleus spoke softly, a faint breath being heard from him as he felt your hands let go of him. “You let go. Is something the matter?”

Malleus noticed you stayed quiet but didn’t hear you move either. So, he turned around, his breath catching at what he saw. His eyes were met with your side profile, your lips curling into a grin. Your eyes reflected the light like glass, and your hands fell to his shoulders.

“It’s the first snow of the season,” you said, mesmerized by the view. Your quiet voice showed just how enchanted you were. Malleus had an idea of how others felt about the first snow. All he took in from when you explained the moment to him was how special it could be for lovers.

Every time the first snow would fall, he’d watch from the window of his study how you admired the snowflakes as if you’d never seen them before. He watched you do this for years as if it was routine. Hell, it would be weird if he didn’t see you out there.

Malleus took your wrist and made his way out towards the courtyard. He’s the one taking you out there this time? You could only follow and keep your excitement at bay from his behavior.

Arriving outside, Malleus fixed your winter cape, ensuring you wouldn’t feel too cold. He leaned against a wall as you played and tried to catch the snowflakes. Your smile was as bright as the white sky, and he would just stand there, watching you without a word, but more as if he was in thought.

You noticed this and took a moment to gather some snow from the ground, putting it behind your back before moving towards him. “Are you alright? You seem to be lost in thought,” you asked, making him snap out of his trance to look at you.

“I’m fine. I’m simply reminded of my time at the college from seeing all this snow. Why do you a—”

Crunch.

He sighed, keeping his eyes closed before saying one thing. “... Why?’

Malleus was cut off by the impact of a snowball hitting his face. The icy crystals caused his skin to feel colder than it already was. He wiped the snow off his face as he witnessed you begin to back away. Every step back from you was a step forward for him, and you noticed how he had a straight-faced expression. You laughed nervously and grabbed his wrists, trying to hold him back.

“I just wanted to get your attention, Malleus!” You tried to explain, yelping when he would tower over you, but you would only find it all amusing. Malleus would chuckle, grabbing and throwing snow at you, not aiming for your face like you had done to him.

This went on for a few minutes, enjoying the back-and-forth attacks, while the snow piled onto the ground through the mid-winter day. At one point, Malleus would grab you by the waist to keep you from straying too far away from him. The gesture felt nice, but also intimate as he’d only do this to stop you from being clumsy.

You held onto his arms and stepped back slowly, moving towards a stone pillar, while your eyes didn’t leave him. You glanced between his eyes, lips, and the horns you loved seeing. Even after he held you against the cold stone, there wasn’t anything to worry about, but him.

You felt nervous while giving his arms a light squeeze, and he carefully brushed his cold fingertips against your cheek, making you relax with your head leaning into his slight touch. Soon, his hand cupped your cheek to tilt your head, keeping you in place this time.

Finally, your eyes stayed on his lips. His green eyes admired your features to remember them down to the last detail. Your mingled breaths hit each other’s faces from the close proximity, then Malleus leaned close, his lips inching closer to yours.

It was cut short, though. You turned to the sound of someone clearing their throat, but your body would stop what it was doing and let go of Malleus, instantly bowing at the sight of a familiar lady.

Malleus would turn around next. His breathing was slightly uneven from getting caught in the act, but he’d still bow and greet the woman in the courtyard with them.

“Queen Maleficia, what brings you out here during this weather?” Malleus began first, slowly coming up with you to stand correctly.

“It is good to see you, Queen Maleficia.” You followed after, giving Malleus’s grandmother a warm smile.

“Not much, my dear. I’m glad to see you taking a break,” Maleficia returned the greeting and gave a smile as well. She’d soon drop that expression, though. “I need to speak to you about something important.”

Your body would tense up again, and you took that as a cue to leave them alone, so you bowed and took a step forward. “I’ll leave you be, then—”

“You aren’t going anywhere. You are part of this too.” Maleficia spoke earnestly, and she rarely had to speak in such a way to you. The last time you heard those words was when she scolded you and Malleus for disappearing to Lilia’s home.

Those words always made you nervous, especially since they usually meant something was wrong. You could only turn around and smile again.

“Right. I apologize for my assumption, Your Majesty,” you said carefully, instantly seeing Malleus turn to you with a look of curiosity.

Standing before Queen Maleficia, now in her study, you held your hands as Malleus stood near the high bookshelves. His grandmother stared out of her window briefly before taking a breath.

“Malleus.” Queen Maleficia began to speak, turning around to face you and Malleus somberly. “Your coronation is being planned, as you know, but something must be done before you can become king. You know what that is, correct?”

Malleus grew confused, but his eyes would widen slightly once he understood. “Marriage. What of it?”

As soon as Malleus answered, the woman would look towards you and smile lightly. “That’s correct. What do you plan to do about that?”

You stare at Malleus briefly before looking at Maleficia again, then smile softly. “I do want to marry the prince. That has not changed since we were children.”

Maleficia looked away from you, and then she made her way to stand in front of you. “That, my child, is what I can no longer allow. I am sorry.”

Your eyes widened, and you saw Malleus perk up at the corner of your eye. He was shocked as well. “What…?” Is that the only thing you could say?

“What are you talking about?” Malleus sounded off. You couldn’t look at him. Your eyes would stay on the Queen before you, still in disbelief.

“This is the best course of action. Forgive me, my child.”

“Queen M—No. Grandmother, what in the world are you referring to? Answer me!” Malleus began to demand, moving you back and getting ahead of Maleficia.

“Malleus, believe me, this was not easy.”

“I did not ask if it was easy. I did not ask if you’ve thought of this for weeks or months. I asked for an explanation, grandmother,” Malleus spoke sternly, going against Maleficia, which he had not done before. Maleficia was growing angry, but she remained calm regardless.

“I am doing this for you, for the kingdom of Briar Valley; to end a war before it could begin. You will do your duty as the future ruler of this kingdom.”

“You think the kingdom can decide who will be my partner in marriage for the rest of my life? You did that when I was a child! I went along with it and accepted it the first time as it was!” Malleus also grew angry at the way the events were unfolding. He had accepted everything without complaint, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut this time. This isn’t what he wanted.

“Now, Queen Maleficia, you wish to choose someone new? Someone I haven’t known my entire life and someone I cannot trust?”

“You will understand that as the future king. You do not need them as your fiance, and that is final. You will be marrying someone from another kingdom to stop us from going to war.” Maleficia had grown strict, firm even. Anyone else wouldn’t dare argue, not even you. You could only stay quiet from the words you were hearing. Your heart began to feel heavy from guilt as if it were a burden.

“What good will that do!? I do not need someone to help me run my life or the kingdom that will be under my wing some time from now!”

“I did it for you! I do not wish to see you become like your parents! You are my only grandson, and I lost your mother to war and the son, your father, I never had just before that. I raised you! Lilia and I were the ones who kept you alive. So, as your grandmother, I want you to keep yourself safe. Do this for yourself.” Maleficia was like a pleading mother. She needed Malleus to understand.

It was all so confusing to you. Malleus was trying to fight, but was it for you or him? Was it for his freedom? Did he love you? No. That couldn’t be it. You had to do something before he would do something drastic. You had to stop him before he could argue more.

Silence.

Your hand wrapped around his own. Malleus froze from the sudden touch. “It’s okay,” you began softly, putting on a smile before looking up at Malleus.

The touch reminded you of when you snuck into his study as a teenager. You felt stressed once due to your studies and responsibilities becoming a large pile, and Malleus would hold your hand to put you at ease. He helped you with your studies by tutoring and keeping you focused, but concentrating was still difficult with your distant lover just inches away from you during that time.

That short-lived memory was enough to make you agree to this. You loved him, but it was confusing. He was distant, but sometimes not. You loved him, but it was time.

“Hey, Malleus?”

“Hmm?”

“What would it be like if I was only your friend, but never your fiance?”

A young Malleus had to think about that, but only one answer came to his mind.

“I would’ve figured out how to become your fiance again.”

Back to the decision before you, you smiled more before looking at Maleficia and squeezing Malleus’ hand lightly.

“I understand, Queen Maleficia. I apologize for no longer meeting your expectations,” you said respectfully. Malleus stared down at you with wide eyes, his hand starting to squeeze yours while it was still in his grasp.

“Don’t say that. You don’t need to do that—”

You shook your head and looked at him, clenching your free hand around his arm to cling to him. “I… wanted to talk to you, anyway. I’d call you my fiance, but you always turned me down. You said you simply accepted the necessity of my obligation as your lover. Now that we have to say our goodbyes, it worked out fine, did it not? I won’t fuss about this decision, as I have no say in the kingdom’s political matters. So, I will simply wish you happiness and good fortune in your marriage, Prince Malleus.”

“What are you talking about? You don’t know a thing.” Malleus whispered and took both of your hands into his, trying to keep himself calm in the midst of all of the mess. “I only rejected you because I wanted to properly propose to you. Only at the right moment between us and—”

“Hey… you don’t have to say any of that. You don’t need to. This is your kingdom. I am simply someone who had to be your lover.” Those words hurt for you to say, and Malleus looked… scared for once. In the time that you’d ever known him, he was the only person you loved. Malleus couldn’t let go of your hand or look away from you. You would disappear, he felt. Hearing those words come out of your mouth was painful enough as is.

You could only give him a bitter smile and force him to let go. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay,” you whisper and bow to Maleficia, then to Malleus. “Thank you. If you’ll excuse me.”

You smile once more before swiftly leaving before anything else could happen. The longer you walked, the more your legs felt like jelly. You didn’t know where you were going, but you just wanted to leave. You wanted nothing more but to go back and take back your words. To fight for Malleus. Yet, you would never go against the crown.

Malleus simply stood there in disbelief with his eyes glued to the door. Maleficia reached out to her grandson, but as soon as her hand landed on his shoulder, he slapped it off. He looked at his grandmother with a look of nothing. Agony. A heart-wrenching anguish clouded his mind and judgment once you had left the room.

He didn’t want the touch of anyone else but you. How could he lose you so easily? His whole life, he had always gotten what he wanted. Yet, the one time he asked, begged, and pleaded for something in his life, it was stripped away right before his fingertips. Malleus’ body was on auto-pilot from the harsh reality. Then, he moved out of the study, but when he looked up, his body froze at the sight of you running out of the castle.

It was all his fault. He didn’t fight hard enough. Now, he had lost you. How could the Seven betray him so? He never thought that it would be so easy to leave him. To abandon the memories just because someone else requested it.

Once you felt the harsh wind and snow, your eyes began to water. Soon, your heavy breaths turned into heaving sobs. Before you knew it, you found yourself in the forest. How did you even get here? How far did your tired legs get you? What torture could you endure in this state? Then…

Every memory with Malleus started to flash through your head.

Every dance.

Every laugh.

Every touch.

Every look.

Everything.

Your heaving sobs became screams of heartbreak. Agonized cries echoed throughout the quiet and dark forest of Briar Valley. You couldn’t feel the cold anymore. The cold didn’t matter when it felt like you left a piece of yourself in the castle.

Malleus leaned against the wall from the window that he watched you disappear from, closing his eyes when he could hear your cries despite how far you actually were. He couldn’t do anything to fix it this time, not when you were convinced.

Meeting his new fiance was unbearable for Malleus, but he tolerated it. He never remembered any interaction he had with the woman he was supposed to marry now. The wedding was memorable for everyone but him, and you weren’t there. He knew you wouldn’t be there, but he would still smile to himself when he remembered things.

But then it wasn’t too long, maybe a couple of years, until the kingdom celebrated Malleus and his coronation. Everyone with royal status and Malleus' close friends were invited to the after-party celebration. You went alone and stood on the balcony outside, listening to everyone enjoy their festivities. You hadn’t heard about Malleus since you last stepped foot here. It felt like forever ago.

“I didn’t think you would show up. Not after what happened the last time.”

The familiar voice made you perk up and turn around, seeing his tall figure standing at the curtain’s frame. You stood at the stone barricade and smiled slightly at Malleus, bowing to him.

“I didn’t think you would seek my company, King Malleus.”

“That title sounds… weird coming from you,” he admitted, making you both laugh. You look at the horizon to watch the setting sun, going quiet along with him. You had to break the silence.

“So, how are you and your queen?” You asked, causing Malleus to look at you.

“She is fine. She’s expecting, so she’s taking care of herself instead,” Malleus said, being careful with his words, but you wanted to hide behind your old, playful attitude.

“You were quite fast, weren’t you?” You responded with a laugh, but you could feel your heart breaking already.

“It’s been about two years since we last conversed. I don’t think that’s too fast,” Malleus spoke casually, but you would notice how he looked at you somberly, almost as if he didn’t like it as much as you did.

“I see. I wish the Queen and your child a safe and easy journey.” You said quietly, sounding a bit melancholic. You had to force those words out, and Malleus simply nodded to accept your wishes.

His look made you narrow your eyes towards the ground, not wanting to look at him as you knew it would only cause you more heartbreak.

“Malleus…” You called out quietly, sighing and leaning against the stone.

“Don’t say anything,” he whispered, looking out into the horizon just like you did moments ago.

After a few minutes of silence, the sun had finally set, turning the sky dark with the moon’s light shining down on you and Malleus.

“Thank you,” you broke the silence first amidst the faint clamor of festivities behind you, “for the chance to be with you for so long.”

Malleus looked at you, then you looked at him in return. These looks turned into stares. Stares felt like time froze. It was you and him again, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You engraved the details of his face into your head, and he was doing the same for you. When he broke the silence, the bubble around you two still hadn’t popped.

“You were a wonderful experience,” he said sincerely, giving you a smile.

You smiled back, but before you could respond, others called Malleus over. He tried to stay there, but he was forced away. He was only able to take one more look at you before he disappeared. He faded away like a light swallowed by a deep darkness, which was so strange. It was only a change.

You still kept your smile after he left. Now, you could say what you wanted.

“You were… everything.”

#twst malleus #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney #writing #romance #angst #twst angst #angst with a sad ending #hurt no comfort #im hurtin #hurt #no comfort

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spectacled-renegade-writes · 1 year

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An Early Start - Danny Phantom

Description: The accident that turns Danny half-ghost happens when he is four years old and leaves him trapped in the Ghost Zone. Clockwork finds him and takes him in to raise. But what happens when Clockwork sends Danny back to the human-world ten years later when a permanent portal appears?

Notes: Good news y'all! This story is COMPLETELY finished! The only thing I need to do is edit each chapter so that is what you will be waiting for! But I promise it will stick through to the end. Have a lovely day or night and thank you so much for reading!

Ao3: Here | Chapter 1

Part 1: Strings of Fate

Clockwork can see timelines. He can see the possible futures and the past which led to those points. He can see each decision and the webs they weave. Each crack, crease, and string. He knew all of it.

Clockwork can see Danny Fenton. He can see the lives the boy leads. Each choice splitting into timelines both similar or so different. He can see a world in which he is feared, revered, or never existed at all. Danny has always been an enigma in Clockwork’s eye since the moment the ancient ghost formed. Yes, Clockwork knew Danny Fenton. The boy who would save the world or destroy it. The boy that does so in some worlds and doesn’t in others. But, in this world, he gets an earlier start than most.

Young Danny is four years old and he is hungry. His big sister fed him breakfast this morning while she got ready for school. But, it’s lunchtime now, and Jazzy is not here. Danny wishes she was but she told him she has to go learn. She told him he would start learning too, next year. But right now is not next year and right now she is not home. So, Danny opens the fridge to find the lunch she made him. Jazzy knows Mommy and Daddy forget about him sometimes, so she takes good care of him for them.

But today, when Danny opens the fridge, there is no lunch. Today there is nothing. Today has been off to begin with.

For the first time ever, Danny woke up before his sister. This was confusing because she woke him up every morning. So, Danny stumbled out of bed in his spaceship pajamas and made his way to his sister’s room across the hall. She was still asleep. She shouldn’t be. Danny decided to wake her up.

He crawled up on her bed, little stuffed astronaut under one arm, and shook her shoulder. She did not stir. Danny tried again. Nothing. So, desperate times called for desperate measures and he raised his toy in the air… then proceeded to bring it down on her face. It did the trick and Jazz shot up in her bed. “Wah!”

“Jazzy?”

Jazz gathered her bearings and grimaced at her little brother. “Danny, why would you do that?” She demanded. Danny pointed to the digital clock on her night stand. Jazz looked over to the device and found, to her horror, that no numbers shone. She quickly picked it up and shook it, frantically pressing buttons. “The battery must’ve died! What time is it?” She missed Danny’s casual shrug as she threw her blankets back and rushed out of bed. “Come on!” She urged, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of her room. The following morning was just as frantic as her awakening as she hurried to get ready for school and take care of Danny at the same time. In her rush, she forgot to make lunch.

Now, here Danny stood. Hungry. No lunch. No Jazzy. Too small to help himself. He glanced toward the basement. Danny knew well that he is not supposed to go down there. Every morning, the last thing Jazzy always says to him before the school bus picks her up is, “Remember, don’t go in the basement. Be safe. I love you!” Danny wanted to listen to her. So, he walked to entrance instead, leaned against the doorway.

“Mommy?” He called. Nothing. “Daddy?” Just the same. Hesitantly, Danny took a single step down a single stair. “Mommy? I’m hungry!” He hoped yelling would get her attention but still he received no response. Jazzy’s words echoed in his small mind but moments later so did the rumble in his stomach. He decided, just this once, to go downstairs.

Carefully, holding tight to the hand rail, Danny made the steep trek down each stair, careful to watch his feet as he went. One, two. One, two. One, two. He left his toy at the top of the stairs where he could retrieve it upon his return. One, two. One, two. One, two. Danny wished he didn’t do that. The basement scared him a little and his astronaut made him feel safe. One, two. One, two. One… two. Finally, Danny reached the bottom floor.

He saw his mommy and daddy turned away from him. They stood hunched over a table reading something that Danny could not see. To their left, on that very same table, sat a small device they called a “Proto-portal”. Danny didn’t really know what that means but he did know his parents have talked about it for as long as his young mind could remember. Since he was in diapers his parents would say things like, “Today. Today is the day we perfect that portal!” or “I completely overhauled the filtration system. Good as new!” or even, “What if it never works?” But still, they pressed on.

Danny took a tentative step forward and spoke again. “Mommy?”

The thing about his parents, the thing Jazz knew since Danny was born, is that when they were focused on their work, nothing in the world could pull them out of it. But Jazz protected Danny. So Danny didn’t know this. “Daddy?” He took another step forward.

“I really think we cracked it this time, Jack!”

Danny reached the table and looked up at them. “I’m hungry.”

“I think so too, Maddie! Shall we do this together?”

Next to them, in front of the little portal, was a metal stool which belonged to his parents that they sat on when they tinkered away at the device. Danny climbed up on it.

“On three, Jack. One.”

Danny climbed his way to the seat.

“Two.”

He reached out for his mom’s lab coat.

“Three!”

In the same moment his parents flipped the switch for the portal, they finally turned so they could see their years hard work finally come together.

The moment they turned their smiles fell. The moment they turned horror dawned their expressions. The moment they turned, they watched their little boy reaching out to them. The portal sputtered and sprang to life. A ringing in their ears when they watched, before they could even move, as the vortex which appeared within the small portal began to swallow their son whole.

The only time one should hear a four year old scream is when they’re throwing a tantrum, or squealing with delight. One should never hear a four year old screaming, at the top of his lungs, from overwhelming and unfiltered pain. At the same moment Jack made to turn off the device, Maddie lunged forward to grab her son. But she was too late. They were too late. It felt like forever. It felt like an eternity. But, it was only seconds. Moments. A few precious moments which would change their lives forever.

The portal shut off, and their son was gone. Obliterated.

Yes, Clockwork can see timelines. But this timeline… it was so infinitesimal, so unlikely. It intrigued him that it came to pass.

~~~~~

Notes: This story will have 25 chapters and be split into 3 distinct parts. The first part, "Strings of Fate", will start at chapter 1 and end at chapter 7. Title of next part will release upon chapter 8! :)

#an early start au #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny phantom fanfic #danny fenton #clockwork #jazz fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #renegade writes

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dashing-through-ecto · 2 years

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Crown of Horns AU (a funky AU from the discord server)

The Crown Of Fire chose Danny after his victory over Pariha Dark. As the crown burrowed itself deep inside of Danny's core and formed an unbreakable bond with him, it felt that Danny didn't want to be ruler of the infinite realms.

The crown knew that Danny could not refuse the throne so it grew horns of bone and blood all the way to Danny's head as a mark of royalty for the young ruler.

Danny despised the horns. They were growing fast, were sensitive to even his own touch and they were constantly visible, even in his human form.

Danny has tried countless times to rid himself of the horns. Cut them of with a saw, break them off with a hammer, scrape them down to the skin. The pain was agonizing and blood was flowing freely from the broken horns.

But as soon as he was done, they would start to grow back. Not only that, but they grew back longer, sturdier and with more jagged edges then before.

Danny, in his desperation, seeked out Frostbite and his unending knowledge about all things ghostly. The gentle giant was ecstatic! The great one has been judged by the Crown Of Fire and chosen as new king of the infinite realms!

Danny couldn't utter a singel word as Frostbite told him all about the horns.

They are a mark of rulership that was bestowed upon a newly appointed king or queen who feels themselves unfit or unprepared for their duty. The crown itselve lays dormant inside his very core untill Danny excepts the title of king and the throne of the infinite realms.

As long as Danny rejects his rightful fate, he will never be rid of the horns.

Lost for words and utterly hopeless, Danny fleas the Far Frozen. Seeking out the time keeper that is his second most trusted mentor, he makes his way to Clockworks tower.

The ancient ghost was already waiting for him, as he usually does. Gripping his horns in a fearful panic, Danny stumbels over his words. He's begging the time lord to let him go back and fix this.

He couldn't be king! He's only a child! Bearly even a teenager! He couldn't rule a whole nother dimension! He couldn't even keep his room clean! Someone else had to take the crown! Just let him go back and give it to someone else! Please!

But Clockwork has seen it all. Danny is to be king and nothing could change it anymore. They were in the correct timestream and he could not interfere anymore.

It cracked Clockworks core to deny the young ghost boy his last hope. The old ghost knew what would likely happen next and his concern for what it could so to young Daniel was immense. But all was as it's supposed to be. His hands were tied.

Danny couldn't believe it. Even clockwork, in his eternal wisdom, wouldn't see reason.

With his strongest allies turning their backs on him Danny feared there was only one person potentially capable of removing the horns for good.

It was time to visit Vlad.

Danny would get rid of those hellish things growing from his head. He'd have to.

#danny phantom #dashing-art #tw blood #blood #tw eyestrain #eyestrain #mention of selfharm #tw selfharm #poor danny. hes a little messes up #crown of horns AU

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underforeversgrace · 1 year

Text

Grace Writes Masterpost

Hello! This is to help keep all of my fics in one easy to find spot (other than AO3) especially for the Tumblr links.

I typically keep this pretty up to date, but that does mean it is kinda long!

(As I reminder, I offer commissions. I also have a ko-fi.)

Heartbeat (6,732) (AO3) (Not on Tumblr)

There are a few facts of life. Maddie Fenton knows this. One of which is ghosts don’t have a heartbeat. So why can she see his beating heart?

What It Means To Be (71,323) (AO3) (Not on Tumblr)

Caught by his parents and rescued too late from the lab by Sam and Tucker, Danny has to learn how to live with what has happened to him and what he is.

Danny Gets Caught by the Justice League (Tumblr only)

Just my addition to a viral dcxdp post even though I know nothing about DC

Share the Burden (1,056) (AO3) (Tumblr)

Tucker knows how much Danny has to deal with, and he wants to help Danny carry the responsibility. And the portal is turned off.

Parental Responsibility (5,929) (AO3) (Not on Tumblr)

After a night she’d rather forget, Jack and Maddie are missing, and Jazz has to face her new reality.

Woken and Bound (2,955) (AO3) (Not on Tumblr)

Danny wakes up in chains, Clockwork and the Observants hovering above him. Knowing only one fate could bring them here, he didn’t even fight, just bows his head and waits.

Earned Peace (4,254) (AO3) (Not on Tumblr)

A body is found in the park and Danny’s core is not happy about it.

i love you (don't kill me) (4,581) (AO3) (Tumblr)

Maddie had always thought she was a good mother. A bit of a workaholic, sure, but still a mother who would listen to them and who could be trusted. She learned she was neither of these things, and she learned it the hard way.

Just Another Day (2,711) (AO3) (Tumblr)

It's been eight years since the Fentons died, since Danny had undoubtedly lost his mind. On the anniversary of their deaths, Valerie goes through her day, remembering how they got here. Why he would be there today.

same memory (different perspective) (3,861) (AO3) (Tumblr)

It’s just chores, just him cleaning the lab. It’s just a normal day and he’s definitely fine. His fight or flight instinct definitely isn’t screaming at every single atom in himself to run.

by your grave (the monster we made) (19,762) (AO3) (Tumblr)

Maddie knew Danny kept secrets, it was a topic they didn’t discuss. But when she sees scars she knows he couldn’t have, she knows she can’t keep pretending. She just needs to figure out those scars.

definition of insanity (is doing the same thing) (11,694) (AO3) (Tumblr)

When his 16th birthday ends with Phantom yelling at him, Dash wishes he could just try it again, only to find his wish granted and the day beginning again. Determined to make it better with his hero, Dash does everything he can to make it better (and maybe wail on Danny Fenton a little harder), but Phantom just keeps getting angrier and Dash just wants to know what he's doing wrong.

broken trust and the wounds hidden behind (27,007) (AO3) (Tumblr - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7)

Jack wasn't meaning to snoop in his son's room when he found a box of medical supplies and a USB with a tag that said IF I DON'T COME HOME. Danny’s secrets revealed, Jack is desperate to earn his son’s trust, to earn the right to this secret he stumbled across. After almost two years of unknowingly hunting his son, is Danny's trust too broken to heal?

where the wounds were hidden (5,629) (AO3) (Tumblr)

When there's no one to talk to, sometimes a diary is all that's left to turn to. (Danny POV of broken trust)

Welcome to Intro to Ghosts (in progress) (AO3) (Tumblr - 1, 2, 3)

Sure, turning sixteen was supposed to be a big year regardless, but this was a little beyond what Danny had expected when he'd both been told he was now king and then asked to be a teacher for the Intro to Ghosts class while also being a junior in high school. Now he has to juggle a secret identity, being a superhero, doing centuries worth of old paperwork Pariah didn't do, his own schoolwork, AND his students/classmates schoolwork! This'll be fun. Or catastrophic. Hopefully fun.

we're ghosts, not the mob (3,052) (AO3) (Tumblr)

Jeff Johnson has been, unfortunately, chosen as a month-long substitute for William Lancer at Casper High - and he very much does not want to deal with Amity Park’s ghost tourism nonsense. But some students keep getting hurt, and maybe there’s something dark lurking here?

never cared for the stars (1,111) (AO3) (Tumblr)

Phantom vs. the Box Ghost - those are barely fights, y'know? Besides, Phantom never let's humans get hurt. But Phantom didn't see Dash there.

searching for the severed tether (let me return) (9,893) (A03) (Tumblr)

Danny’s core won’t stop hurting and he isn’t entirely sure why - is it just exhaustion? Something else? He would quite like for it to stop hurting, instead the pain’s getting worse. Meanwhile, Jazz gets called for an assembly. And then it all goes to hell in a hand basket.

the road to hell is paved with good intentions (6,995) (AO3) (Tumblr)

Jack feels like death as he fights the flu, Danny’s wrist is broken and he refuses to talk about it, and Maddie feels like she can’t do anything right. If he could just see through his son’s eyes, walk in his shoes for a while. He forgot one should never say the word ‘wish’ in Amity Park.

A Make A Wish child wishes to meet Danny Phantom (Not on AO3) (Tumblr)

Prompt from danphanwritingprompts

purple and red (881) (AO3) (Tumblr)

Dannymay 2023, Day 2: Backpack

Summary: Jack recognizes that backpack

an august snowstorm (771) (AO3) (Tumblr)

Dannymay2023, Day 3: Blizzard

Summary: Lancer isn't sure what to do with a snowstorm in August. Especially not IN his classroom.

shatter my soul (I don't want it anymore) (1160) (AO3) (Tumblr)

Dannymay2023, Day 4: Fractal

Summary: An impossible accident and pain Danny had never known.

all masks must come off (2517) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 6: Eclipse

Excerpt: "Eclipses are... hm, kind of like holy days for ghosts." Danny began and Maddie fully relaxed. Ghosts weren't sentient enough to have anything approching religion or faith. "You can't hide under an eclipse. It's night and day both turning their gaze to you and no disguise can bear both the sun and moon's scrutiny."

Instinct (3035) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay 2023 Day 7: Weapon

Excerpt: He really hated it when his parents surprised him with the ghost version of weapons of mass destruction, honestly. It was getting old. When they’d unveiled the weapon and showed it to him and Jazz with more enthusiasm than a toddler sticking something new in its mouth, Danny had wanted to blow the damn thing up the instant they finished explaining what it did.

beneath bone (1125) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 10: Bones

Excerpt: Maddie tucked herself further into the shadow of the building, peeking around the corner. This metal ghost was really starting to grate on her nerves. It had been coming everyday for two weeks, challenging Phantom each time. Phantom, unable to resist a fight, has met it on the battlefield each time.

the monster I hide (1922) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 13: Monster

Summary: It's been two weeks since the Accident and Danny is struggling to come to terms with some of the less desirable side effects of dying - and he feels like a monster for it.

the electricity within me surrounds me (1456) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 8: Electric Core AU

Excerpt: Why was he having so much trouble controlling the static today?

fight the current (Two Parts)

under the river (1181) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 11: Underwater

after the water (1770) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 30: Post Reveal

Excerpt: Is this really a choice she was about to have to make? Dying together with her husband or leaving him to die on his own?

don't sass a sleep deprived ghost (1432) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 17: Temper

Excerpt: He was tired, he was over this, and he was so fucking done.

memories of the grave (2166) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 18: Grave

Songfic. Excerpt: He frequently thought about death. His death, at least.

wrong paper (665) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 19, No Backspace

Summary: Mr. Lancer gets an assignment from Danny that is not right.

fang u for ur help (341) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 16: Fangs

Summary: Danny has fangs and questions

does this suit come off? (1706) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 15: Full Hazmat AU

Summary: A fight goes sideways and Danny gets caught.

green in the air (2042) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 22: Cryptid AU

Summary: Ectoplasm is invasive and all consuming, and it shows in Amity Park's residents. (OC outsider POV)

memory of what may have been and never will be (3962) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 25: Blame

Summary: Valerie Gray from ten years in the future falls through a natural portal, landing in the past. Unable to get home, she decides to do the best thing she can - kill Danny Phantom.

Grace Can't Draw (picture post) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 26: Art/Fic Switch

stars in his eyes (1849) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 24: NASA

Summary: After two weeks in the GIW's labs, Danny is informed another government agency has taken custody of him. Of all the agencies to hurt him, why did NASA have to be one?

shattered saviors (2475) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 21: Shatter

Summary: Danny gets a horrifying glimpse into the intense negative reaction of Amity Park, and especially his parents, when Dani is accidentally revealed to be half ghost and is taken into GIW custody.

would you like fries with that? (1217) (AO3) (Tumblr)

DannyMay2023 Day 20: Nasty Burger

Summary: Danny wants to enjoy a meal with his friends. The ghosts say no.

am i dead or alive? (it's such a fine line) (2755) (AO3) (Tumblr)

Danny wakes up screaming from a nightmare - a memory he thought he'd long gotten over. When his dad comes running him to check on him, old fears and doubts resurface, and Danny decides that, since he's already told his parents about Phantom, maybe it's time to stop hiding other things, too.

chasing nightmares (703) (AO3) (Tumblr)

"Who got you this time?" Jazz asked with a sigh, wrapping the gauze around Danny's bleeding shoulder, grimacing as green immediately saturated the white. "Plasmius," Danny spat.

we live our lives like we're ready to die (in progress) (AO3) (Tumblr - 1)

Crossover fic - Danny Phantom x Angel: the series. Long summary, please view link.

the walls you hide behind (I saw the truth inside the real you) (in process) (Tumblr - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, in process) (AO3)

Jazz is tired of the ghosts, tired of her parents not doing enough, tired of Phantom's recklessness and her brother's persistent exhaustion. When she yells all of her frustration at her parents after nearly getting killed by a ghost, she gets sent to Vlad's mansion in Wisconsin for the weekend - where she's offered a chance. She could have the ability to fight back, protect her brother and her town. Jazz leaps at the prospect. When she returns to Amity Park at the end of the weekend, it's with abilities and strength of her own, and she's fueled by anger and disdain. And she's got her eyes, first, on Danny Phantom.

healing the wounds we hid (sequel to broken trust and the wounds hidden behind) (in process) (Tumblr - 1, 2) (AO3)

(Invisobang 2023!) Now that his father knows, Danny's life is changing for the better. Jack encourages him to let his friends and the rest of the family into his small word. Unbeknownst to Danny, Jack is secretly worried about how Maddie will react to the news upon her return to Amity - and how to confront Vlad once Jack learns his true identity. Amidst it all, an enemy lurks and plots their revenge.

#grace writes #Master post

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valourworn · 2 years

Text

( deaken bluman, 21, cis man, he/him ) hey, is that SIRIUS BLACK wandering the halls without a companion? the SIXTH YEAR is getting bold. and here I thought the GRYFFINDOR was always more fearless, charismatic, & humorous. but then they are also known to be impulsive, guarded, & brooding, so maybe that makes sense. these hard times are enough to change anybody, I suppose. and did you hear people are saying they’re in THE ORDER? rumors fly when people are cooped up. here, I’ll show you — SIRIUS always reminded me of finding something that you lost ages ago, the low beam of light at the end of a dark hallway, a loud burst of laughter in the dead of night, blood shot eyes due to lack of sleep, mourning something that’s still alive. and I’ve heard HE JOINED THE ORDER TO SPITE HIS PARENTS. let’s hope the PUREBLOOD doesn’t get attacked by the beast. or let’s at least hope that rumor doesn’t get back to them before they do. ( leah, 23, cst, she/hers )

i’m going to try and keep this relatively short, so i don’t bore anyone with how much i love this boy. trigger warnings for physical abuse!

the story starts like any other: a boy born into the house of black, the heir walburga and orion hoped for. sirius asterion black iii was born on a bitterly, cold and cloudy morning in november and immediately placed into the arms of his nanny. the noble house of black was similar to that of an institution, and sirius’s birth was just another stepping stone to confirm that legacy.

later, he would be told that his parents were ‘ overjoyed ’ at his birth, but that tidbit was always confusing to him. he’d never once seen his parents display much emotion, nevertheless one that would be related to joy. his parents were cool and detached, certainly never ones for any sort of praise or physical affection.

from the earliest of days, he's possessed this wild, untamable energy. his magic was even more unruly, so much so that walburga had to ward off most of the family’s heirlooms out of fear that he’d break them. no matter how much walburga chased him around the house, shouting spells in his wake, he would be right back at it the next morning, as if he had remembered nothing.

but that’s when the spells got harsher, the wounds they caused taking longer to heal. it was then that sirius learned his jokes and tricks weren’t funny - no one was laughing anymore. and they never had been.

but sirius was smart, he soon realized that in order to survive the house he needed to put on a performance. it wasn’t that he didn’t believe in the rhetoric that he was being fed, but he never thought much about it past the weekly lectures he received. he knew, however, that if he really valued his life, he needed to work hard for a chance at survival and really show his parents he could play the part they wanted him to.

but the thing is, sirius could be good at the things his parents wanted him to excel at. charm the guests at a dinner party? he could do that without so much of a second thought. things like that simply just came like second nature to him after years of enduring constant beration from his mother and father. but even if he were to execute something perfectly, there would always be something that he could have done better. and if he had really messed up, there would most certainly be hell to pay. by the time he was seven, walburga and orion were very comfortable with using curses and hexes to punish their children, a precedent established when he was only five years old. it became like clockwork, something he could expect. sirius will never forget the pit in his stomach as his mother dragged him down the hall to his father’s study, nor the sound of the door locking behind him, sealing him to his fate.

and the truth was, sirius just assumed this was just how all families were. he knew his cousins were also held to unreasonably high standards, but he’d reasoned that it was normal and just the way things were. it wasn’t until he arrived at hogwarts did he realize that actually wasn’t actually the way the world worked.

sirius arrived at hogwarts fully expecting to be sorted into slytherin. because why wouldn’t he be ? it was tradition, and he’d watched as his cousin, andromeda, was sorted into their birthright only minutes before he stepped up to the stool. but it only took two seconds for the hat to be placed on his head before it called out GRYFFINDOR and he walked lamely towards his new house’s table, dazed and confused.

it didn’t take long for him to settle in, though. his new housemates were warm and friendly and fun, everything he had always wanted. it was easy to fall into step with them, to laugh with them. they were people who actually laughed at his jokes, who even got them in the first place. it was at hogwarts that he felt safe for the first time in his life, and he would do anything for his best friends, the marauders, who showed him what real family was like.

it was also at hogwarts that he learned something for once, most importantly that blood status didn't matter. he mingled with people that he never would have met had he not left grimmauld place and learned so so much.

sirius's first trip home was certainly the worst, although they never lessened in severity. his parents were always furious, especially walburga. he was prohibited from speaking to his friends while he was at home, but he still found little ways to rebel. his summers were long and boring, days spent wishing he could be back at the castle.

as the summers continued, his hatred for his parents deepened. by his fourth year, they were hardly on speaking terms and as much as sirius tried to act like he didn't care, there was still a part of him that longed for the big happy family a lot of his classmates had.

as a person, sirius is first and foremost definitely traumatized from his childhood. it takes him a very long time to trust people and even longer to open up about everything he's endured ( i want to say the marauders are the only people who rly know everything and even that took forever for him to disclose ). he jokes a lot, but it's really just a defense mechanism. he can be obnoxious and loud, craving attention from anyone who will give it to him. he'll start fights just for the hell of it, kiss someone at a party just to start drama, anything as long people are looking at him. he's charming, a sweet talker and boy does he know it.

but he also goes through periods where he is broody and withdrawn, even isolating himself from those closest to him. sirius is a constant storm of emotions, but he tries to hide it with his humor and his rebellion. he behaves impulsively and almost selfishly at times. it's all really just to mask that he feels like he doesn't belong, not in the house of black or in gryffindor either. major imposter syndrome !

doesn't really put much effort into school, but he would do really well if he tried. he often ditches class to take walks around the grounds doing god knows what. chain smoking cigarettes probably

hates rules, is rly that person who thinks they were just made to be broken

lots of pride, will never admit when he's wrong

i think that's all for now <3333

#petrifyintro #physical abuse tw

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bubblegumbeech · 3 years

Text

The Losing Move

Day two Ectoberhaunt: Scream vs Laugh

AO3

It started with a scream. That’s how Clockwork knew it was finally time.

He hesitated, of course. There was so much to lose, so much still uncertain, paths branching in different directions, moments shrouded imperfectly from his view, strings of fate tangled and misused. But he was the Master of Time. He could hesitate and no one would ever know.

Not even them.

Clockwork made a portal, leaving his Clocktower and walking towards a tall grey rock almost as old as time itself, weathered by age and nothing like the statue it had once been standing proud in a garden of overgrown thorns and long dead leaves. Nocturn appeared next to him, a swirl of inky black void scattered with stars and nebulae.

“Did you hesitate?” he asked.

It was a valid question. An important one too, if they were to succeed. Clockwork’s hesitation could lead to an uncertain future, to a failure in their plot. And then they would be lost, set back hundreds of thousands of years again.

“No.”

Nocturn accepted his answer. Perhaps he knew that Clockwork was lying, perhaps he did not. Either way, they both turned to the stone.

It wasn’t long before the others appeared.

Misery Vex was the first, then Sojourn, on and on until they all stood, surrounding the stone.

Misery turned to Clockwork. “Did it take?” she asked, and he flew forward, taking off one of his gloves to run his hand along the smoothed side of the rock. It hummed, an energy unlike any else, unique to here yet everywhere and nowhere at all. Very chaotic indeed.

“It has.”

She hummed an affirmative, linking her hand in his before reaching out to take Sojourn’s. Clockwork reached for Nocturn and as they all linked together they formed a shield, thick and impenetrable between their varied talents, around the stone.

“How long will this take,” Vortex said, ever the impatient one. He was jittery, yellow cords of lightning constantly jumping all over him in a nervous jumble, branching in and out of each other like writhing snakes.

Clockwork sighed. “Not long.”

“You musn’t get too close,” Misery warned.

“I know.”

“You musn’t go too far,” Nocturn reminded him.

He knew that too.

“You’ve failed before,” Misery said, her voice steady and calm. She was not wrong, nor accusatory. He had faltered, it had led to a less than ideal outcome. He would not admit this.

Clockwork didn’t allow any emotion on his face. “The threat is contained. My faults did not lead to the failure of our mission.”

She scoffed. “No, only to ‘inconvenience’. Right?”

As far as she knew. As far as any of them did. They relied on him, to determine if their future would be a success. He was the only one who could see which path to take, what choices would lead to their victory. He was the only one who knew just how thin the chance was, how precarious the choice. It would not benefit them to know. He did not need their doubt.

“Who was it?” Sojourn asked, referring to the scream that had summoned them here. The scream that had echoed hauntingly throughout the entirety of the Infinite Realms.

Clockwork hadn’t looked. He looked now.

“A boy, fourteen years old, between child and adult, between living and dead, between here and there.”

Nocturn smiled, “How fitting.”

The stone shattered. Power and chaos, magic and will swirled around in a tornado, beating against the solid weight of their shield and making what was once so obviously strong seem weak and pitiful in comparison.

Vortex’s eyes glowed in excitement. It was a sign, they all knew, that things were getting close.

Eventually the storm faded and all that was left was a weathered pile of ash and rubble where there had once been a stone, where there had once been a statue, where there had once been nothing at all.

It would come to nothing once more.

Soon.

The Infinite Realms had been lifeless for so long. Nothing more than ambient ectoplasm and void. A place. Nothing more and nothing less than it had to be. Many of the denizens had never seen them alive, existing as they once had. The panic was only natural. The frenzy, exciting and new. The heart of it all beating again.

There was one ghost in particular, of course, who had only known the realms as they existed now. Sure there might also be others, newly made and newly dead, but this one was the important one. He’d been the one to give his life for the life around them now.

Or at least, he’d given half of it.

The Observants, of course, were furious.

They had attempted to hunt down the Ancients, knowing it was they who had done this, who had planned this and then hidden it from the view of those who watch. Vortex had been taken first, as expected, and Undergrowth had fled to the mortal realm. The others also split, the time for them to come together was over; the time to prepare for the end was nearing.

Clockwork, of course, their ever loyal subservient pet that could not leave his tower without their knowledge, that could not use his power without their permission, he’d never been looked at twice.

“You told us the threat was neutralized.” Nocturn said, sliding up next to one of Clockwork’s monitors. He watched a scene, where Daniel and Pariah fought. It was not a real fight, of course. Pariah had long shed the haze of bloodlust that had driven him mad, and was now attempting to be endearing, to rebuild a trust Clockwork had never actually had in him.

Clockwork took a sip of his tea. It was made from some of Pariah’s newly grown coraleander leaves and made a thick, murky green tea that Clockwork quite enjoyed the taste and texture of. Unfortunately that was exactly why Pariah had grown them, and while Clockwork had snuck them away like a petty thief, he doubted that the missing leaves had gone even a moment unnoticed.

It was infuriating and Clockwork sipped at it slowly, savoring it’s warmth.

“He is no longer the King. In fact, there is no King at all, just as I said it would be.”

Nocturn turned to meet his eyes, tilting his head just slightly in suspicion. “Yes, you did. Though I suppose the others thought you meant he would not escape his sleep. Or at least, that he would not escape his sleep until after .”

Clockwork looked away, towards the monitor. Pariah had soundly defeated Daniel and was laughing. Likely at the way the poor boy looked, his hair a mess and covered in the very coraleander leaves Clockwork was drinking. He’d need to wash them off before he transformed back into a human. While they wouldn’t be immediately deadly to a Half-Ghost, they would form a large, hard to explain, rash.

“That wasn’t what I said though, was it?” Clockwork met Nocturn’s eyes once more.

The other ghost just snorted and shook his head. “No, no I guess it wasn’t. Clockwork, the tightrope you’re walking, that future you see that you haven’t told us about? I really hope you get it. I do. Because the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows and I can’t imagine what would happen if you missed.”

Clockwork’s tea had gone cold. He continued to sip it. He ignored Nocturn’s words and he watched the screen as Pariah helped Daniel stand, only for Daniel to tackle him when he wasn’t expecting it.

“I’ll take that under consideration.”

It was becoming habit, he found, to lie to Nocturn.

Daniel was at the Clocktower, eating a plate of cookies and complaining about some of the varied ghosts he had to deal with and fight on a regular basis in his mortal realm. It was a side effect, of course, of Phantom’s new role as the Heart of The Infinite Realms. The smaller, weaker ghosts, especially younger and newly dead ones, had attempted to flee the Realms when they noticed the sudden changes.

When the Observants had become so busy trying to find the cause of the change, so busy trying to hunt down what was left of Chaos’ children, that they could no longer micro-manage the state of the Realms. Could no longer constantly overstep their authority and keep their tasteless ‘Order’.

The Realms had become more and more lively and Clockwork had found himself in a perpetual good mood. He took a cookie for himself. Nocturn caught him baking the other day; his expression had been dry as he congratulated Clockwork on his adoption. It was a pointed accusation.

He had shoved it to the back of his mind and decided to make some forgoent tea to go with the cookies. He hadn’t offered any to Nocturn.

Daniel paused in his musings for a moment before speaking again, his voice careful. “I’ve been visiting Pariah.”

Clockwork hummed, not looking away from his screens. “I am aware.”

“Of course you are.” Daniel rolled his eyes. Then he sighed like he didn't know how to bring up what he was going to say next. “Did you… Did you know he was going to get free if you sent me after that key?”

Ah, so he’d figured it out then. “It was a possibility. Each and every choice you make creates an entirely new future with entirely new consequences.”

“He doesn’t seem all that bad…” Daniel argued, as if Clockwork was going to disagree with him. Clockwork raised an eyebrow, the one with the scar Pariah had given him, and looked over to him. “I mean, he just. When he first woke up he was really mad right? But like, I’d also be really mad if I finally woke up from a forced coma only to have Vlad there.”

Anyone would really.

“And even though he sucked Amity Park into the Ghost Zone, no one actually ended up getting hurt. At least, no more than usual in a ghost attack. And I’ve been talking with the other ghosts that have been ‘Challenging’ him and they all say he's a pretty cool teacher… Like, he knows how to fight and he’s good at showing them how they can use their unique powers-”

Clockwork didn’t interrupt Daniel as he rambled. It was rare, at least since he’d been deposed, to hear lists of Pariah’s more positive aspects. It wasn’t uncomfortable so much as mildly frustrating. Was this part of Pariah’s ploy? Get Daniel to fall all over himself to recite poetics about Pariah to Clockwork. He should have learned by now that whatever affection he might hold for him, it would not be enough. Not to stop his plans, and certainly not to stop the others.

“So uh, you know, he seems… chiller. Without the crown and ring and stuff.”

“Yes, it was the Ring of Rage Daniel, what did you think it was used for?”

There was a small imperceptible shift in Daniel’s expression, as if he’d realized something and made the choice to file the knowledge away for later. He must have learned that from Pariah as well. “So, if there’s things that can change even powerful ghosts like Pariah, are there things that could change, say… one of the Ancients?”

Was Daniel befriending another Ancient? Clockwork smiled, that was good then. He could hold that against them, the weight of his failure to keep an emotional distance wouldn’t be as stark, if another Ancient or two fell just as easily to Daniel’s pleasant company. He could use that, he simply had to find out which of them it was. Perhaps Sojourn? He was always soft for children, but Clockwork hadn’t been aware of him returning to the Barrens lately, and Daniel rarely went any further than the Time Locked Lands or the Far Frozen.

“It is good to befriend others Daniel,” he says halfheartedly, searching through his mirrors to locate Sojourn, “but remember not to trust too easily. You never know the goals of those around you, if they might be using you towards their own ends.”

“Of course,” Daniel replied, his voice hard.

Clockwork looked over to him, he was staring at the dregs of his tea, expression dark.

“Would you like more tea?” Clockwork offered, wondering what had plummeted the boy’s attitude so suddenly.

Daniel looked up, a small smile on his lips, “Yes Please.”

Clockwork left to make more, his mind still trying to find which Ancient Daniel had befriended.

“The Observants are completely ignorant of your machinations,” Pariah said as Clockwork entered his study. “Of course, they don’t know you as well as they think.”

Clockwork should stop visiting him. Should never have started, a fact that Nocturn was only too happy to remind him of. Sometimes Clockwork wondered if Nocturn got his taste of Chaos from Clockwork's mistakes, he seemed so dedicated to reveling in them.

“I didn’t come here to talk about the Observants. I have my fill without the need to remark upon them when absent from their presence.” Clockwork was scowling. He could hide his irritation, but despite his lies and trickery he was hardly an accomplished actor.

Pariah chuckled, flipping another page in the thick book he’d been reading. The title was faded, but Clockwork recognized it easily enough. It was a detailed history of the Infinite Realms after King Dark had been sealed away. It was a long history, though not as long as the history that came before his reign entirely.

It was also the exact kind of thing Pariah would read cover to cover, like the obsessive monster he was.

“I suppose you came to warn me away from your ward then?” Pariah asked, his voice casual. Clockwork scoffed, allowing a roll of his eyes before floating over to Pariah’s shelves and grabbing one of the books that looked recently used. It was about old soul binding rituals, much like what had happened to Fright Knight. It was amusing, the thought that Pariah’s oldest friend might still be whining about his little curse.

“Hardly,” Clockwork said, idly flipping through the pages, “if I could control Daniel I never would have let him near you to begin with.”

Pariah smiled, placing his own book down. “Yes, I imagine you wouldn’t have. It would be a mistake to let me get close to him and realize he is the reason the Infinite Realms have started to sing.”

He’d figured it out then. Of course that wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. Unlike the Observants, Pariah was wickedly intelligent and fully capable of coming to the appropriate conclusions. “Sing? An interesting way to describe it.”

Arms encircled his waist and Clockwork was pulled back into a warm chest. Pariah’s chin rested on Clockwork’s shoulder as he spoke softly into his ear. “Is it enough? The realms feel alive, weaker ghosts are fleeing or banding together once more. It resembles the time we once had, between Chaos and Order. Will you stop here?”

“There’s nothing more I can do,” he lied.

Pariah hummed an agreement and reached out to flip a few pages through the book Clockwork had been holding. There was a beautifully illustrated drawing of a necklace, bewitched and layered in curses. Pariah must have memorized the pages, of course. “Would you wear jewelry if I made it for you? I would see you decked in gold and finery if I could.”

Clockwork slammed the book closed, just missing Pariah’s fingers. He didn’t think about the earrings Pariah had once gifted him, or how he wore them even now, dangling hidden beneath his hood. “You should know better than to ask that.”

He felt a smile against his neck. “Then I won’t ask.”

He held the Thermos in his hand.

The other Daniel was a menace, truly. But he would not be so desperate to ruin Daniel’s life anymore. It had been long enough for him to realize that his existence was no longer predicated on Daniel’s decisions, or on the loss of his family.

It would change him, of course. The knowledge that he exists in the same time as his once family will either soften his grief, or sharpen its edges. There were so many paths he could take, and Clockwork could not see them all, did not bother to look much further than the distance he needed him for.

There was something more important than his grief that he and Clockwork had in common. Something Daniel and Pariah likely had in common with them as well: the detestation of the Observants.

Clockwork opened the thermos, releasing Daniel’s worst nightmare and not thinking about how the young half-ghost had given it to him so easily, had trusted him so quickly when all Clockwork had done was protect his human family one time.

The other, once possible, Daniel appeared in an explosion of light and matter and immediately attacked, using his claws to scratch at Clockwork’s face. He was prepared for that though, years trapped in a thermos had eroded much of Dan’s more refined aspects. It would work in Clockworks favor of course, he had made sure of that.

For now, Clockwork froze time and moved behind him. That way his wild attack would meet nothing but ambient ectoplasm and Clockwork could speak his piece. Provided his piece took less than a second to speak.

He allowed time to flow and watched as the other Daniel floundered, confused, only to instantly realize just what Clockwork had done and turn around, ready to attack once more. Clockwork smiled as their eyes met and asked, “Would you like to End the Observants and their Order?”

the other Daniel attacked him, but Clockwork could see the consideration in his eyes. The thought had been implanted, now all he had to do was sit back and watch. the other Daniel had always been rather good at ruining things after all.

“CLOCKWORK!” Daniel yelled, flying frantically into the Clocktower. “Clockwork Dan escaped somehow! He attacked Amity Park!”

His desperate flight slowed when he saw Clockwork floating casually at his screens as he always had. He was watching a specific screen now, and pulled the image onto the largest one to share with Daniel. “Yes, I know.”

Daniel looked between him and the screen, his expression growing more and more confused. “But, he was here though. Locked up. How did he escape?”

Clockwork didn’t turn to look at him. “I’m sorry Daniel,” he lied. “Your trust in me was misplaced. He escaped while I was distracted with another matter and I was unable to stop him. It’s my fault.”

Daniel’s eyes widened, searching for something in Clockwork’s expression, and then in Clockwork’s screens. The only thing he saw though, was the other Daniel causing havoc and destruction. After visiting Amity Park and re-traumatising Daniel’s sister, the other Daniel had been driven away by Daniel, whose power had become far superior in the time since they had last met. It was only natural of course, Daniel’s existence was unique and far beyond that of Dan’s mangled pieced together form of conflicting obsessions and damaged cores.

It was possible, Clockwork knew, for the other Daniel to stabilize properly. Perhaps he could become a proper ghost, perhaps he could stop attempting to restrict what humanity he had left. Either way, it did not matter in the end. If anything, his existence was a fun riddle that would play itself out long after Clockwork’s plans came to fruition.

Clockwork looked over at Daniel, his expression hidden behind the shadows of his hood. The boy was staring emptily at the corner of the Clocktower that led to the inner dungeons where the other Daniel had been hidden away. After a moment he turned away, hiding his own expression, and began to walk. As if his legs had become too heavy to fly.

“It’s fine. I’ll get him back. It won’t happen again.” There was a promise in his voice and it softened to be almost inaudible entirely. “I won’t let it.”

After he left, Clockwork turned back to the screen with the other Daniel on it. He was finished terrorizing the ghost from before, and was now floating listlessly in the void of the Infinite Realms. Likely, he was warring with his obsessions- or his emotions- it was hard to tell which. Eventually though, he shook his head, looked up as if to catch Clockwork’s eye, and flew off.

In the direction of the Observants.

It’s eyeball was glaring at him, the normally dull yellow of it’s sclera bright with fury. “You were given responsibility over him! You were entrusted to keep him from destroying the Realms!”

Clockwork’s own eye twitched as he fought back an eyeroll. Those who Watch were as predictable as ever, not showing up at the moment of Dan’s release but instead at the moment he began to take his rage out on the Observants. Their responsibilities had always been superfluous though, a vague excuse to do as they pleased in the name of Order.

“I failed. He escaped. Woe is me.” He floated over to one of his more intricate gadgets and began to tinker with it, pretending to be busy. “Surely an Order such as yours, full of powerful ghosts that command the Realms, did not come to me in fear though? He attacked you directly, does that not make your vow of inaction void?”

“ You-! ”

“Of course, it would be different if you simply couldn’t defeat him. But… he’s only a decade dead. That would be an embarrassment.”

The other Observant that had come to scold (and demand his servitude) floated in front of its companion so as to cut off a likely incensed reaction. “He’s an abomination, and an amalgamation. Surely you can understand why we wanted him dealt with before it came to this.”

Clockwork inclined his head, playing at civility. “Perhaps then, you should seek to work alongside Phantom. I have it on relatively good authority he’s also trying to deal with your resident menace.”

Both of the Observants took his suggestion as an insult, one even growing red with it. “That Abomination? He should be destroyed along with it!”

“Pity,” Clockwork said, turning back to the screens and watching as the other Daniel tore the core out of another Observant’s chest and crushed it in his palm. He wasn’t even absorbing them for their power. It was a waste, but Clockwork was certain it was a waste born of trauma. Dan’s creation had, after all, been due to a botched absorption with a powerful ghost core. “You can leave now.”

“You must deal with this.”

“I will deal with it when the time is right,” he said in lieu of an answer.

The Observants, disgruntled and unwilling to leave, as if hiding in Clockwork’s lair would somehow protect them, made comment after comment demanding his action and threatening punishment should he fail. He replied with sarcasm and an aloof attitude that soon had them leaving out the door if only to try and do what they could to tighten his bonds.

He sighed, there was time still. He should make cookies, that always seemed to calm him, help him to exist in the present and not become impatient for what is yet to be. He headed to the kitchen, only to see an unexpected visitor at his table.

“Nocturn, you’re early.”

The other Ancient nodded. “Yes, your plan seems to have worked flawlessly. The Authority of the Observants has been shaken. Much of the power they had gained through fear and reputation has dwindled, but…”

Clockwork raised an eyebrow as he opened his cabinets. There was egyptian sand flour left over, it would be dryer than using something more modern, but the age would add a good aftertaste. He just needed to add extra Honey-Wasp bits from the outskirts of The Undergrowth and that should balance it. Maybe some purified ectoplasm. Pariah gifted him a jar after he had somehow managed to create a device to filter it from the Infinite Realms.

He had also made an absolutely unsubtle offer to join him in his new ‘sauna’ that Clockwork had pointedly refused.

“But?” he prompted, there was little information he could glean from silence.

Nocturn watched him prepare the batter. He sighed and stood, grabbing a knife and helping to mince the Honey-Wasps before speaking again. “But they still have their numbers, and much of their actual power. And Clockwork, Pariah has made his move.”

“I know,” Clockwork admitted, “but is that not in our favor as well?”

“Not if he takes more power from them, Pariah on his own is not a fight we can accept lightly. Anything more being beholden to him is hardly something I wish to see.”

Clockwork cracked a Kraken’s egg into the mixture and moved the bowl closer to Nocturn so he could scoop the Honey-Wasp bits into it as well, without losing any of the juice. Mixing it would be troublesome, some of the more experimental batters attempted to gain sentience and would try to escape the bowl. “It will work in our favor either way. the other Daniel caused havoc, their power was broken across the realms. Pariah is merely salting the ground we have burned.”

He used a dull knife to cut into the batter and stirred, stopping any attempts at formation. Nocturn grabbed the bowl from him, forcing eye contact. “What if he seeks something else?”

“Haven’t I already escaped the chains he bound me in before?” Clockwork laughed. “Do I not have allies that would find short work of cutting chains that I did not allow to bind me?”

The bowl was set back down and Clockwork and Nocturn both made short work of dividing the dough and setting it into the oven. “We could not break the bindings of the Observants,” Nocturn said as Clockwork closed the oven door.

“That is different, that was part of our plans. They needed to never suspect me, if we were to get this far.” Clockwork waved him off. “Would you like a cookie?”

“We have to wait for them to cook, Clockwork.” Nocturn said, exasperated.

Clockwork simply rolled his eyes and increased the time surrounding the oven. “I don’t wait.”

Daniel hadn’t visited again since Clockwork allowed the other Daniel to escape. It was possible, he admitted in the back of his mind, that Daniel blamed him for what happened. As well he should. Yet, the thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

He was watching the screens again. Aiming them in every direction he could to see everything as it played out. Most were occupied by the remnants of the Order he had set about decimating. A few were dedicated to their interconnected Lair, the place where they held their play courts and kept their prisoners. It was where they kept Vortex before he was freed. One screen though, was aimed at Pariah’s Keep.

It had been a simple thing that Clockwork had neither encouraged nor discouraged, Daniel’s visits with Pariah. But now that Clockwork’s own visits had come to an end, it had become something distinctly bitter, a feeling that was building in his chest, where his core hummed, that Clockwork was ignoring with all the practice of a man dead set on his goals.

Daniel would visit again, of course. Clockwork could even tell the exact date and time, or at least the most likely ones. He didn’t look at the futures where Daniel never came back, there was no point in uselessly fretting about it. He’d be fine, there were more important things to deal with now.

He could feel the pressure of his binds loosening as more and more of the Observants were hunted down. Not all of them were ended by Dan, of course. They had made many enemies. Both Vortex and Undergrowth had gone out of their way to visit quite a number themselves, along with a few of the other Ancients. Clockwork was certainly tempted to do so, alas, the restrictions upon him prevented it still. And the only way for those restrictions to end was for those wielding the reins to End. And well, then there wouldn’t be anyone left to take his ire out upon would there?

Instead he allowed his own part in their demise to be enough for his bruised ego and the millennia of torment he’d undergone beneath them. Then he ate a cookie and kept watch of his screens.

Pariah was teaching Daniel how to use a sword. Pandora had attempted to teach him swordsmanship but Daniel had been disinclined to it. He wasn’t particularly elegant to be fair, and the finesse and practiced movement of Pandora’s sword was more akin to an art than anything else. Her limbs risked entanglement if she wasn’t careful and had developed a style suited to such.

Daniel was much more inclined to blunt, ferocious movements. He often thought with his fist before anything else, even as a ghost with a multitude of powers to command. He used speed and strength to win and outmaneuver his opponents and despite his lack of polish, he often won due to those two traits alone. Pariah was a talented teacher, in that he was clearly taking what Daniel had already in ample supply, and taught him how to wield it appropriately to its maximum use.

He was still only beginning of course, but Daniel was a fast learner and had grown significantly in a short period of time.

Clockwork had toyed with the idea of taking Daniel on as an official apprentice once or twice before. Teaching him how to exist beyond the means which he had become accustomed to as a human. While he would not have Clockwork’s inclination for time specifically, Daniel’s connection to the Realms would allow him a level of control over his surroundings and the beings that exist in them that simply does not exist in anyone outside of the Ancients. And even then, Clockwork’s Time was different enough from the others’ domains to be unique in and of itself in a similar vein to Daniel’s powers. Even if they’d only just barely begun to show.

But it was a risk to do so before everything else came to fruition. If Daniel realized his plans, it would be troublesome. He likely would not agree to the lengths Clockwork is willing to reach, and more than that, there is no guarantee that his existence as half human would not have him attempting to side with Order over Chaos. No, it was better to wait and see how it all played out first. There wasn’t much left to do before the end.

Yes it would lead to anger. Perhaps even to hatred. It would be fitting for Clockwork. He had never known a love that had yet to turn. That had truly been any kind of unconditional.

But he would be free.

Finally, finally free.

Free from this horrid linear existence, free from his servitude, free from his bonds. The root of him, the core, had been born from Chaos, from the mess of all things and no things, and like any child wishing to cradle in the arms of its mother, Clockwork longed once more for it.

He had been patient, as had the others. There was little left to do.

When Daniel finally visited again Clockwork had made cookies.

They resembled human chocolate chips, if one squinted, and Clockwork had made sure to take them out of the oven just as Daniel arrived so they would be warm.

“There you are Daniel,” he greeted. The cookies were still moving and he had to give the tray he was holding a bit of a shake to get them to stop. He doubted Daniel would eat them if he thought they were alive.

The boy didn’t look well. He had deep bags under his eyes, and a skittish, weary look about him.

Clockwork clicked his tongue. “You need to sleep,” he said, not waiting for Daniel to speak.

“What?” The boy lifted his head, confused.

“I said, you should sleep.” Clockwork grabbed one of the amulets from the wall and placed it around Daniel’s neck. “I’ll stop time for a few hours, you can sleep here if you want.”

Daniel just blinked. “Oh.”

Nodding, Clockwork turned back to his screens so he could keep watch. Nocturn had warned that Pariah was making his move and Clockwork was determined to keep an eye on him now, when the timing was most crucial.

He felt a tug on his sleeve.

“Clockwork…”

He looked down to catch Daniel’s eyes. “Yes?”

“Nothing,” he sighed, “thanks.” He grabbed the amulet in one hand, a torn expression on his face. Then he floated off to the room Clockwork had given him to sleep.

Watching as his ward wandered off, Clockwork waited until he was out of sight to grab hold of time and let it rest for a moment. It was the least he could do.

It wasn’t long after their fall that the final thread snapped and Clockwork opened his eyes in triumph. Everything was available to him now. There were no hidden futures, no shrouded pasts. His screens multiplied around him as even his Lair was freed from its limits. Like a beast stretching from a long hibernation, Clockwork lost himself to his Obsession, revelled in the freedom he had long gambled away.

The Infinite Realms felt it as he left the Clocktower for no reason other than because he wanted to and he didn’t have to ask. He didn’t have to come up with some convoluted reason as to why this was perfectly acceptable before his own body allowed him to leave the doors of his own Lair. It felt wonderful, he almost took down his hood to see everything around him with the eyes of a free spirit.

He didn’t though, it would be too much of a hassle to wrangle his hair back and he didn’t really want someone to see him so freely bared. It was enough in every way, that he was finally free.

“I almost forgot how powerful you were, Clockwork.” He turned to see Misery Vex, lounging comfortably just outside his lair. “The Eyes Around Us are gone then?”

Clockwork nodded, looking to the future, looking to the past. She had been waiting here for him, but not for long. And she wouldn’t have waited much longer. “Are you ready for what happens next?” he asked.

“Are you?”

He nodded again. There weren’t any more preparations to make, how could he be anything but ready?

They didn’t meet at the Clocktower this time.

It was no longer necessary after all. This time they met in the night. The soft evening of eternal sleep and dreams, Nocturn’s lair. It was spacious if nothing else, and creative with its decoration. Should one of them wish to sit, they merely needed to chance sitting and see if the space around them would accommodate. It suited him immensely.

“Have you found her yet?” Misery asked.

Sojourn nodded, a small enthusiastic smile hidden under his beard. “Yes, Clockwork and I were able to locate her shattered core amongst Pandora’s boxes.”

“ It will not be easy to receive her, and it will only be more difficult to revive her,” Nocturn warned, “especially if we wish to keep this to ourselves. Rather than risk the entirety of the realms turning on us as they did the Observants.”

Clockwork nodded, “we shouldn’t do much in more than pairs. Sojourn and Misery should seek Pandora. Nocturn and I can set the ritual once the pieces are complete.”

“And the rest of us?” Undergrowth scowled, he hated Nocturn’s lair. It was cold and empty, barren of any more physical matters and there was nowhere for him to take root. Clockwork suspected half of the reason it was that way was intended to irritate Undergrowth specifically.

Sojourn clapped his hands together and smiled, his eagerness truly knew no bounds and his obvious delight was nearly infectious. “You’re our escape plan of course! We’ll need help once we locate the right box, Pandora’s obsession is hardly a good one to be on the wrong side of.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Vortex grinned.

Clockwork couldn’t help but agree, what are they waiting for indeed?

“What is Chaos, Clockwork?” Daniel asked. But Clockwork was distracted.

He hadn’t expected Daniel to show up today, he hadn’t paid attention to it. There was so much to do, so much to get ready for. The time was now after all.

He took care to answer anyways, the changes that were to come would affect the boy. At least a little. He was strong enough that he would thrive in Chaos, and it would help to nurture his Obsession, if the weaker denizens of the Realms needed help. And they would

“Chaos was the first, how it all began. Everything started with Chaos or nothing could have been at all.”

Daniel frowned, a small furrow in his brow. “That… didn’t really-“

Clockwork paused for a moment. “Is something wrong Daniel?”

He sighed. “So if you were made from Chaos, is she like, your mother?”

“No. Chaos is not sentient so much as conceptual.” Clockwork frowned, “though I suppose she predated concepts as well if she was the first. Chaos was neither one thing nor many things. It’s safe to say Chaos was everything and everything came from her. But that did not make her nurturing”

Clockwork looked back at Daniel, letting time flow smoothly once more. It wouldn’t do to delay.

There was a hint of something in Daniel’s eyes, a wariness that Clockwork had never seen before. It must have been due to their conversation, but Clockwork couldn’t place what about it would have Daniel on edge. Chaos would not be any more a threat to him than it would be the other Ancients.

“Clockwork, if Chaos came back…” he paused, as if the words had been stuck in his throat, “what would happen to the humans? The mortals?”

What a strange question. “Life would not exist as it does now, utter chaos would not permit it.”

It had been something of a sport, to watch Sojourn and Misery in their attempts to find and excavate the remnants of the Core of Chaos. Clockwork and Nocturn had watched it from the safety and comfort of Clockwork’s lair, on the largest of his screens.

“They’re having fun aren’t they?” Nocturn mused, taking a sip of his tea. He’d made it himself in Clockwork’s kitchen, had been insistent about it when he’d seen Clockwork start to make his own.

“Pandora is a valiant warrior and a good fighter. Misery has been on the sidelines for some time since the end of Pariah’s court.” Clockwork’s tea was cold. He frowned and set it aside.

“Yes, it’s good to see her stretching her limbs. I hadn’t seen all of them since her last fight.”

Clockwork thought back, the fight Nocturn was referring to played on one of the smaller screens. It was a gladiator based competition, where Pariah had sent her as a member of his court to show his power. She had challenged the Lord of Little Crawlers to a duel and shredded him to pieces before even five minutes had passed. Then she had collected herself, reset her veil, and gone right back to Pariah’s Keep.

Now she was using every extra limb she could against Pandora, swords clashing with long knitting needles and strings of silk. Watching the fight was mesmerizing to be sure, almost akin to a dance, if not for the frustrated vulgarities being thrown around and Sojourn’s overly eager cheering from the back.

“Do you think they’ll make it?”

“Sojourn will remember what they’re supposed to be doing when he almost drops one of the boxes held in his arms. Upon that realization he will sneak away while Pandora is distracted and meet with the others. From there they will come here with their spoils and it will be our turn to prove our worth.” Clockwork answered, easily detailing the future ahead of them.

Nocturn nodded and took a sip of his tea.

It didn’t happen exactly like Clockwork had predicted. But it was close enough. Sojourn had bypassed Vortex and Undergrowth completely and simply flown straight to Clockwork‘s lair on his own. Nocturn spared Clockwork a glance, but he remained unaffected. It was still on track to be an ideal future.

Once Sojourn entered his lair Clockwork grabbed hold of time with his hand and twisted , forcing it to bend and still under his palm. The trip to the Cave was only a step after that and once there, he let loose and released time to settle amicably around them.

“Amazing,” Sonourn said, “I do think I’d like to travel this way more often. It’s quite convenient.”

Nocturn patted him on the shoulder and grabbed one of the delicately detailed boxes he’d been balancing precariously in his arms. “You’d need to be very careful if you did, there’s no telling what might get caught up in all that twisting and turning.”

“It won’t matter much longer after this,” Clockwork said, taking his own box.

The entirety of Chaos was not here, her core long since mostly destroyed, but there was enough to recreate something should they use the ritual they had devised.

It needed to be hidden, so they had found a cave. It was ancient, and once thought to be a reliable doorway into the spiritual and mortal realms, every wall was covered in ancient arts and writings. No rhyme or reason between them, a bit of a mess conceptually, but perfect for their purposes. Once Vortex had destroyed it in the mortal realm, it had been simple enough to recreate, especially using Undergrowth and Misery Vex’s powers.

Most ghosts dared not travel here, where they placed it. It was a deeper part of the Infinite Realms, where the pressures of the ambient ectoplasm was strong enough to kill even some of the more stable spirits, certainly more than any Watcher could have ever handled.

Clockwork gathered the ashes in the center of their chosen chamber. Three rights from the first left. Nocturn moved around the edges, the walls solid and firm under his hands as he tested them. And Sojourn, setting his own box aside, lit the flames.

It began.

They had known the work would be hard, tedious even. Most mortals, when they picture rituals like this, imagine chanting and holding hands, perhaps some use of indomitable will. But this was far more personal, more hands on.

Clockwork took the broken edge of a shattered piece of core, and began to mold it, shaping and soothing it into a puzzle-like shape. He had spent time looking into human carpentry practices, and had come across the traditional Chinese techniques of Lu Ban.

It had taken more than a human lifetime to learn it properly and then suit it to his own needs, but he put it into practice now, shaping the shattered pieces anew and slotting them together so that they might fit and stay snug.

Sojourn had weaved together layer after layer of treated ectoplasm into a fine cloth and was now sewing it into a fitted dress, each stitch small and tidy, seamless against the weave.

The one who stoked the flame, who kept its energy strong and the newly forming core well fed, was Nocturn. He kept a measured gaze upon it, not once turning away or getting distracted.

This continued for an eternity, the creation, or recreation, of something both ancient and now new was exhaustive work. But eventually, Clockwork felt a hum. A small, weak thing that would have left him breathless had he needed to breathe.

Chaos was born again, though faint, though weak. Not anything close to what she once was, but still, she was there, feeding on the flames of her own ashes, pieces of her own core held together and finally finding life.

They needed to keep going. This was delicate work, if they got distracted, if there was even one misstep, it would be over. Chaos would be what she is now, what they made of her, and not what she needed to be.

The fire went out.

“ Damn ,” Nocturn hissed, quickly turning to look around. He did not bother to relight the flame, it was too late. Clockwork felt hollow, had they truly failed? But how?

He acted quickly, bundling the newly formed and still fragile core into Sojourn’s half sewn garment and thrusting it fully into the other Ancient’s hands.

“You are the fastest of us, run, hide her away before we lose her entirely.” Sojourn nodded solemnly, flying quickly through the winding tunnels that led out of the cave.

Nocturn scowled, “whoever is there should be glad I am merciful. Come out now and I shall forgo eternal torment for a quick End.”

There was only silence.

Clockwork was growing irritated himself and looked to the future, only to see Nocturn tackled into a wall by a familiar black and white blur.

“Daniel?!” He said, his thoughts screeching to a halt. But, there was no way. He couldn’t have followed them. He would have had to know about the cave and been lying in wait for the exact moment to-

There was a soft sound, like the clinking of a delicate chain, as Clockwork felt a weight upon his neck. All at once he felt the universe stand still, as if he had been trapped in the moment, the singular moment no longer able to spread himself beyond. It was cloying, claustrophobic. Something he never thought he’d experience again.

And he knew who was behind it.

“You’ve always been impatient my dear.” Pariah spoke softly, his lips far too close.

Clockwork fled, slipping between moments to force space between them almost on instinct alone. Pariah simply let him go, a smug smile on his face. No, he wasn’t supposed to be here. How did he know about this place?

What had he placed on Clockwork’s neck?

He lifted a hand, not taking his eyes off of Pariah in case he decided to get any closer, and felt around his neck. It was a chain, delicate and just long enough to have slid over his head and dangle its pendant at a point on his chest, just above the glass. The shape of it was vaguely familiar, but Clockwork couldn’t place it.

“What have you done to me?” he asked, using anger to hide the tremble in his voice.

Pariah’s expression softened and he took a step forward. “Did I not say I would see you decked in gold?”

No…

The necklace…

It had been a cursed necklace, layered in charms meant for protection that slowly twisted into possession and control. It shouldn’t have been strong enough to cause any trouble at all to Clockwork, if something this simple had worked, Pariah would have used it long ago in the peak of his madness.

Clockwork grabbed the chain, intending to rip it off, but Pariah spoke, startling him. “I wouldn’t, you’ll only hurt yourself.”

“Then why did you put it on me?” he tugged at the chain in emphasis, without his strength. Pariah never warned for no reason.

The bastard smiled, like Clockwork had asked a stupid question, one he should know the answer to. Clockwork scowled, and moved further away from him. His back hit a wall. The cave, while earlier it had been comforting, a sign that eternal chaos was close at hand, that all Clockwork had done was paying off in the end, it was now more reminiscent of a stone cage.

A trap.

He’d walked straight into a trap, one Pariah had been laying since he awoke. And Clockwork had never paid it any heed, had not bothered with his machinations because he assumed Pariah would be too slow, had thought whatever he did would be too weak. He had underestimated him, and now Pariah Dark was walking towards him, a lion stalking its prey.

Clockwork froze time.

He was still moving. Clockwork had frozen time and Pariah was still moving .

It shouldn’t have been possible, there was nothing restricting Clockwork’s power in that way. He felt the threads of all existence tangled around him, grabbed the ones moving forward and tugged, sharp, desperate, to keep them still. He felt them still.

Pariah kept moving though.

“How-?” Everything else had frozen, all around them was silence and the only things that moved were the two of them. It was a strange kind of dance, one stepping closer and the other floating away.

“I made it myself, the charm. It ties you to me, obviously.” Pariah caught him, gently because he didn’t need to use force, didn’t need to use any of the almost limitless strength behind him. “It’s based off the contract you signed with the Observants, I hadn’t honestly expected it to be so blatantly one sided when I read it. Though I suppose it was on purpose, a miscalculation on your part, in the end.”

Clockwork pulled his hand away, but Pariah simply moved with the action and stepped closer, crowding against him. “It doesn’t work like that,” Clockwork said through clenched teeth. A one-sided contract that gave away so much of himself was necessary. It was also only possible because Clockwork had signed it. Pariah couldn’t mimic that without Clockwork’s consent, that wasn’t how it worked. That wasn’t how any of this was supposed to work.

Pariah hummed in agreement. “It wouldn’t be, if that was all I did.” He brushed a lock of hair from Clockwork’s eyes. “The Order of the Observants was in chaos. They were desperate. They wanted someone powerful to protect them. They were willing to give anything for the possibility they might find safety.”

Then he pulled out a medallion of his own, a horribly familiar one.

Oh.

So that was all it took…

Pariah was right, it had been a miscalculation indeed.

“Even if they gave me to you, the contract dissolved with the Order. I felt it break.”

“It did,” Pariah took hold of one of Clockwork’s hands and held it to his lips in a kiss, “But I had you for long enough. Long enough to bind you to myself instead. All it took was some craftswork.”

He let go of Clockwork’s hand to touch the pendant hanging from his neck instead. It was a gentle, reverent touch, as if thanking the damned thing for its work in keeping Clockwork trapped for him. “Luckily I was up to date on all the most prominent binding curses. I have a friend who suffers from such an affliction after all.”

“Fuck you.”

Pariah laughed, a genuine surprised chuckle that truly lit him up from the inside. His eyes were so warm, his hands burned like brands, and Clockwork wanted nothing more than to tear out his other eye with his teeth. “Come Clockwork, you’ve failed. Let’s go home.”

Pariah led him back to the Clocktower, his lair. His home and prison. Clockwork stormed past him once they were inside. “And what is your plan now? I can’t imagine I’d be much use in subjecuting the Realms, as you can see I’m quite traitorous by nature. All of my previous masters can attest.”

“Then it’s good I’m keeping you for your sense of humor,” Pariah said as he closed the door behind him.

It was the first time Pariah Dark had ever been inside Clockwork’s lair. Pariah had always been a cautious ghost, it made sense that he wouldn’t allow himself the vulnerability of being inside another powerful ghost’s lair, a place where they quite literally held all of the power and had all of the control.

The irony of course, was that the moment Pariah had stepped inside, it was Clockwork that felt vulnerable. Exposed like a raw nerve, every part of him standing on end, tightly coiled and ready to flee.

“How is this exactly how I have always envisioned it?” Pariah says dryly, his eyes roaming freely, invasively over every nook and cranny. Every randomly placed cog and haphazard ticking machine. It was a chaotic mess, naturally, it was Clockwork.

Clockwork picked up a twentieth century alarm clock and weighed it in his hands before chucking it as hard as he could towards Pariah. The bastard caught it, of course. And Clockwork scowled.

“Did you often picture yourself waltzing into my Lair?”

Pariah set the clock down carefully, as if it would break. As if it were truly a piece of Clockwork himself. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t have. You were certainly at home in mine.”

“Oh please, half the Realms has access to your Lair. We are not the same.” Clockwork scoffed, crossing his arms and floating awkwardly in the middle of the room. He didn’t want to be any closer to Pariah, but neither did he want to risk being backed into a wall again . It seemed a recurring treat for Pariah, to cage him in that way.

There was a touch of mischief in Pariah’s smile when he replied. “Perhaps we can change that, would you like more visitors?”

“No.”

“Pity.”

Clockwork grabbed another trinket to throw, this one he had pried from the walls. Pariah handled that just as easily, an uncomfortable expression aimed at the destroyed part of Clockwork’s wall. He was truly the most obnoxious perfectionist. If Clockwork’s mangled mess of a lair was going to bother him he shouldn’t have bothered to come inside.

In fact, if he was going to be disappointed so easily he shouldn’t have chained him in the first place. It wasn’t as if the bindings guaranteed something like loyalty. They couldn’t even force him to act should he not wish to. Clockwork wasn’t going to change from how he had been for eons under the damn Eyes.

“Why did you do this?” Clockwork asked, “And don’t dare say it’s only because you said you would. You may be meticulous but you are not beholden to simple words.”

Pariah had fixed his wall. And was now attempting to reinstate the very same decoration Clockwork had used as ammunition. It was strangely domestic to see and Clockwork felt rage simmer and build. Would he simply make himself at home then? Perhaps he would seek to combine their lairs in a twisted amalgamation so that he might seek order where it damn well did not belong.

“You were going to leave.”

What a useless excuse. “Did you lose your ability to reason permanently to that crown?”

This time it was Pariah that rolled his eyes. “Obviously not, if I was able to out-fox Clockwork of all ghosts.”

“You had help.” Clockwork said through grit teeth. He wouldn’t ask who, he didn’t think he could handle having it confirmed.

Pariah’s eyes sparkled. “So you knew?”

“I figured it out.”

“Feeling very betrayed, Clockwork?” This time Pariah’s smile was sharp, a vicious little thing that certainly made him more recognizable as the fallen tyrant he actually was.

Clockwork refused to rise to the bait. He did not regret, it was impossible to feel regret when every single decision he’d ever made had been so thoroughly calculated. “I wasn’t going to leave. Where would I even go, Pariah?”

“You were leaving me.” Pariah walked towards him, quicker than his usual slow prowl. Clockwork had chanced a step back himself but it only served to darken Pariah’s expression further so he stilled instead and allowed himself to be caught and held. Pariah’s hands were heavy, one landing on his hip and the other reaching for his wrist. “You were disappearing to the flows of Time, one minute here and the next somewhere no one could follow you. You speak of chaos and the freedom it would give you, but you lie to yourself when you say that is all that you desire. The freedom you had so desperately sought, how lonely would it have been.”

Pariah had not been able to talk after that, too busy weathering Clockwork’s sudden violent outrage.

Nocturn was the first to visit him, to see Clockwork’s anger, his desperate lashing out. He had the same expression he’d always had when the topic of Pariah or Daniel had come up. The look of undisguised pity, as if he had known from the start that Clockwork would fail, that he would be chained in this way, the moment his freedom was closer than at any other time.

“We do not hate you for your failure, Clockwork,” Nocturn said, and Clockwork bared his teeth. It had been sometime since he’d carved out an eye in petty vengeance but he was not above making it a hobby.

Nocturn simply kept his distance, just one step away with one of those damned medallions around his neck, stopping Clockwork from freezing him in place in his own lair. “You’ve always been easily twisted by affection, too willing to be tied down with familiarity.”

His words hurt, like an arrow piercing through Clockwork’s chest. He hadn’t thought it would be so literal, hadn’t taken Pariah’s threats seriously. Had believed, genuinely, that he would be able to escape whatever bonds Pariah had fashioned for him. Had not thought to protect himself thoroughly enough and now all was for naught. Nocturn said he harbored no ill will, but he should .

And Clockwork was distraught that he did not.

He deflated and Nocturn floated closer, just within range. But Clockwork’s arms hung heavy, and he was exhausted now, the weight of it all too much. “You should. Chaos is lost to us.” he spoke, his voice barely audible.

“Yes,” Nocturn acquiesced, “but Chaos was lost to us long ago. It was a child’s hope, that we could get it back.”

“You are content then? To rot in containment in an infinite realm of order and stability?”

A laugh escaped Nocturn, perplexing Clockwork and only flaring his temper worse. The other Ancient didn’t even try to hide as he fell into a laughing fit. “I would not be, no. But my oldest friend, I am not the one in containment. I have always known you look too much towards the forest and its tallest trees, very rarely have you ever noticed the grass or the leaves.”

“Speak sense,” Clockwork snapped. It was his job to speak in riddles, he had little patience to hear them now.

Nocturn did not call him on his hypocrisy though, instead he shook his head and floated closer, relaxing next to Clockwork as if they were two friends taking tea. “It was not, as you believed, an all or nothing gamble.”

“Was it not?”

“No, the realms are back to Anarchy as they should be. The Observants were the last hold in their attempts to tame them, and they have been destroyed. There is no King, not even a sleeping one, and Chaos exists.”

Clockwork listened, the cold weight of failure that had settled in his chest chipped and cracked as Nocturn spoke on. “She does not exist as she had.”

“But perhaps this is a better way,” Nocturn pondered, “last time, Chaos reigned so supreme it seemed all were insistent to seek order. Then order reigned supreme and we sought Chaos. Perhaps now, with the Realms alive once more, and order and Chaos in balance, it will last instead.”

Nocturn placed a hand on the top of Clockwork’s head, petting his hair. “The other Ancients and I shall seek our fun, and find ways to exist in this new existence. It is only you, I am afraid, that will remain trapped.”

Clockwork slapped his hand away, “How comforting, Nocturn. Do you also go to the newly dead and tell them not to weep, at least they were the ones that died and not others?”

Nocturn’s hand returned to pull his hood down over his face and Clockwork had to slap it away again. “It is not in my perogative to comfort the newly dead. I thought only to inform my dearest friend that he had not earned my animosity. A fear he might have had, failing the plan we had painstakingly worked towards for eons.”

“I don’t want to be chained any longer.” Clockwork admitted. It had been so long since he’d had any semblance of freedom. Did he even know what it would feel like anymore?

“We know. Though some, like Misery Vex, believe it karmic, that your attachments, which had led so thoroughly to our defeat, came back in the forms of chains for you alone. But know that if one day it comes to pass that I can free you, unlikely as it may be, I shall make the attempt.” Nocturn stood, leaving Clockwork alone in his tower.

“Clockwork?” It was Daniel’s voice. It was the first time his young ward had come to visit since the binding. It was not a comfort to hear his voice, to see that he was okay. It was not .

He didn’t acknowledge Daniel when he entered, wouldn’t have let him in the door if he still had complete control of his Lair… But he’d bargained that away long ago in a gamble that had failed him entirely.

Instead he floated to his screens. Ever since the fall of the Observants, he could see properly at least. Pariah had no interest in obscuring his vision, had even less in controlling what it was he could see. Pariah’s only interest had been binding Clockwork to him so that he might not escape, so that he might not regress, so that he might not lose himself to the chaos of infinity and escape his limited existence.

Clockwork scowled, still ignoring Daniel’s presence, his attempts at conversation. Pariah’s interests should not have mattered. Because Pariah should not have won . Because Pariah had lost before and Clockwork had been so certain that he would again. Because-

Because Clockwork had made a mistake when he sealed him away. Because Clockwork knew he could not bring himself to end him. Because Clockwork had seen an opportunity to see Pariah again and had known it would be a mistake but had wanted so desperately just to see him again. Wanted to see him free of the haze of anger the ring and crown had obscured him in, but a ghost’s natural state was obsessive. And Pariah had never hid his desire to keep Clockwork as he was, Clockwork had simply brushed it off as words of affection. He should have known better really, Pariah was hardly the type to speak lightly, and had never claimed what he did not mean with his entire core.

The screen he was watching was boring, most things were now that he had no reason to keep track of the threads, no overarching plan to work towards. It was so simple. A young ghost was trick-or-treating with a watermelon instead of a pumpkin and was turning into a large candy-based monster whenever someone turned them away.

It was the middle of summer where the ghost was, and Clockwork allowed himself to appreciate the tiny bit of chaos that the ghost was bringing to the small mortal town. Nocturn had told him that not all had been lost, Clockwork may be trapped, but Chaos had been released.

Just enough.

He sighed.

“Why are you here Daniel?” he finally asked.

Daniel straightened up, he’d been rambling, no doubt in an attempt to cajole Clockwork into joining conversation or listening subconsciously. He hadn't been.

He was also carrying a plate of cookies that Clockwork had not seen, because Clockwork had not looked. When would he learn his lesson about that? Why was he always looking too late?

“I wanted to check on you,” Daniel said, setting the plate of cookies down now that he was sure Clockwork had seen them. “Pariah said you were… having a hard time.”

Clockwork scowled, too many things tearing at his chest at once. Damn Pariah, damn him .

“Having a hard time?” he said with a false calm. “The plans that I made eons ago, plans that had been in work before your mortal realm even knew what time was, were ruined by someone I trusted. Someone I did not think would step so easily between me and my goals. Exactly what kind of time should I be having, chained to my own lair without even the authority to deny entrance to whom I wish?”

There had been a small flinch, Clockwork noticed, when he had mentioned betrayal. But if Daniel felt any guilt he didn’t look it. He raised his head, eyes full of determination. The very same expression Clockwork had seen through his screens so many times, in the fights against the other Ancients. The plans they’d made to make him stronger, to keep him stable, so that when the Chaos had been released he and the Realms with him would survive.

He had certainly survived.

“Pariah said this was the only way to save you.” Because of course that was what Pariah had told him. Because Daniel was intelligent, but Daniel was also a child and all too willing to trust any competent adult. A flaw that Clockwork himself had been so quick to take advantage of. A flaw that cursed him now.

“Do you really believe that Pariah Dark has my best interest at heart?” he would have sneered, if it had been anyone else. If it hadn’t been Daniel, who was practically his own child. Instead, he asked softly, his frustration drowned entirely by exhaustion.

Daniel still answered him though. “You were changing Clockwork,” What? “The same way you told me Pariah had once changed.”

He hadn’t, there was no way it had been so obvious. He hadn’t, it wasn’t as if he had lost himself to his obsession, nor had he gained power that grew out of his control, what was he talking about?

“You were distant, as if you were struggling to stay in any given moment. Sometimes you’d forget everything going on around you, and others you seemed to be somewhere or some-when else entirely. I mean,” Daniel took a breath, “you’ve always been a bit cryptic, but you were losing yourself entirely . Halfway through a conversation you would start talking completely randomly, in languages long dead or unrecognizable. Or you’d start talking about things that had never happened or had happened forever ago.”

He was almost shouting now, his eyes shining with more than just energy and Clockwork felt a sting in his core. He had known that Daniel would disapprove, that he would get angry. But it had not occurred to him that his anger would be pointed towards this rather than his blatant manipulation of Daniel and his friends.

“And your actions! They were reckless, Clockwork!! Releasing Dan? What the hell?! ”

It was Clockwork’s turn to flinch. “Your future self’s release had always been part of the plan. It was why I had you leave him with me to start with. I was not losing myself Daniel, I was revealing who I actually am.”

Daniel made a desperately frustrated noise. “Do you think saying something like that is going to convince me we were wrong, Clockwork? I- I trusted you! I care about you! You’re-”

“So you’d cage me and try to force compliance so that the more unsightly aspects of myself can be filed away? So you can teach me to be better, like some kind of petty human criminal, Daniel?” He let his anger take over instead. It was easier, so much easier. It was what he had always done with Pariah.

Daniel rolled his eyes. “How dramatic,” he said dryly, “Didn’t you do the same thing to Pariah, wasn’t what you did like way worse? You’re throwing a fit just like he said you would.”

“If you trust Pariah Dark so much, why are you even here? Have him make cookies for you. I'm sure he’s fully capable.” Clockwork wasn’t throwing a fit, he was angry.

Daniel sighed, grabbing one of the cookies he’d brought. They had long gone cold, but it hardly mattered to Clockwork, he wouldn’t be eating them. “Pariah has a lot of faults, and there’s a bunch of things I don’t really like about him. He’s manipulative, methodical. He never lets me half ass anything and he’s really picky. He doesn’t actually care if a person dies or a ghost gets Ended, and we fight about that kind of stuff a lot. But…” he met Clockwork’s eyes, his expression looked hurt, heartbroken. Clockwork didn’t want to see it. Had never wanted to see Daniel like this.

“He’s never outright lied to me. I’ve been checking, ever since… Well. I don’t just trust anyone at their word anymore. So yeah okay, I know he’s manipulating me just like he was manipulating you, but he never lied to either of us about his intentions. He didn’t do what you did.”

Clockwork couldn’t look at him any more. He’d made so many mistakes. If he was truly destined to fail… He should never have revealed his true nature or intentions to the boy. His disappointment burned almost as much as the chain Pariah had placed around Clockwork’s neck.

It didn’t matter though, that Clockwork could not stand to see him, because Daniel flew towards him and grabbed his face gently, hands on either side of his cheeks.

“I don’t trust you anymore, Clockwork, but I still love you. So does Pariah. We can fix this, okay?” Daniel said and Clockwork’s eyes widened at the threat.

He had truly lost, hadn’t he?

#Danny Phantom #ectoberhaunt 2021 #Dark ages #Pariah Dark #clockwork dp #Pariah/Clockwork #Bee's writing #fanfiction #Clockwork having not great morals sorry yall but its been a long time coming and I HAVE been hinting at this exact ending :3c

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like-rain-or-confetti · 4 years

Text

Request: Rescued (Demetri Volturi x Reader)

You let out a scream, but the collision never came. You watched in horror as Demetri Volturi of all people had a tight grip on the newborn vampire and with impossible speed, he and Felix ripped the vampire apart.

The two Volturi guards slowly turned to you. Felix and Demetri looked at each other briefly before Demetri approached. You inhaled sharply, trembling in fear as you anticipated that you were next. He crouched down to your level. "You're safe."

He'd never actually spoken to you before. He'd only ever stare at you when in his presence.

After the battle with the Newborn army, you were more than ready for bed. You had just came back into your room after brushing your teeth, taking off your hoodie before gasping in fright.

There, sitting on the bottom of your bed, was Demetri Volturi. He was quiet at first, seemingly in thought before breaking the silence. "You feel it too." Demetri said simply. You knew almost immediately that he was talking about the pull. The longing you had to be around him. "You feel it?" You asked quietly. Demetri slowly nodded with a grim expression. "I want to understand this but I can't with everyone surrounding us." "You and the others...killed that girl." You began quietly, listening to your voice of reason. "She lived longer than she should have." Demetri answered. "Am I supposed to believe that I won't meet the same fate?" You asked. Demetri sighed. "I'm not here to the play this game with you. I'm not here as a Volturi guard and I know for a fact that you are not as loyal to the Cullen's as you'd have us believe. You and I have to be seen a certain way, play a role and this bond doesn't care for that. So I suggest we figure it out together and cast those roles aside." Demetri swallowed, his voice lowering again. "So do you want to continue roleplaying or come to bed?" You were alarmed by the question, that was exceptionally forward, especially considering the little time you had known each other. You stammered. "As in-?" "Was that not what you were about to do? Go to bed?" You exhaled. "So you're not asking to..." You trailed off. After a moment, Demetri seemed to catch on, a slight smirk growing on his face. "There will be plenty of time for that in the future, love." The smirk vanished. "I just want to be near you, try to understand this." After a moment, you agreed.

One thing was clear, Demetri wasn't entirely good at being open with humans. Then again, you didn't imagine he had much time for humans unless flirting. It was clear, Demetri didn't want to do that with you. He wanted to get to know you and this was the way he decided to do it.

You moved passed him, climbing into your bed. After a moment of watching you. He followed suit. You felt the bed dip as you moved to give him room. The two of you were silent. You felt his arm graze your back and you immediately turned to face him. Like clockwork, you both moved closer to each other and you curled into him. You expected it to feel awkward, cuddling into a stranger, a dangerous one at that. However it wasn't. In fact it felt like you had been waiting for that moment. "Did you know?" You asked quietly. "In Italy? Did you know?" "I had my suspicions." He responded quietly. "I have so many questions. I want to know more about you." You admitted. "I know." Demetri replied. "As do I. However, there will be time for that. Next time. The next time we get peace like this, I'll answer your questions."

As time passed, you were almost inseparable. Whilst your bond only grew stronger, so did the challenges. Such as when Bella fell pregnant. Things weren't supposed to go this way. You were at a loss of what to do. You couldn't tell your father what was happening to his daughter. Reality sank in that one day you'd have to look your father in the eyes and tell him Bella had died knowing full well that she was still around. You hated the situation but it only got worse.

Whilst that was going on, Irina discovered Renesmee and thought her to be an immortal child. She fled before anyone could explain. Seeing there was a law against immortal children, she ran to the Volturi. You hadn't breathed a word to Demetri about any of it. You never got the chance to. The silence on his end was terrifying. Weeks going by with no contact. Soon enough, you wanted to distract yourself. Usually Alice would be a great help in this but she and Jasper had gone, leaving only a note.

As you were heading back home, your eyes connected with a familiar blonde's red ones. Demetri gestured for you to come with him before he led you through the trees. "Were you ever going to tell me? What they did?" "Demetri, it wasn't-" "Were you?" "I-" "Were you ever going to tell me about that child!? I highly doubt you didn't know about it." Demetri pressed. "I did but she was wrong!" You blurted out. "The child isn't immortal!" Demetri immediately sighed in frustration. "Is that what they're telling you? At least it will save you- that works." "They aren't telling me anything, I've seen it!" "You don't understand how serious this is. Children can't keep secrets!" Demetri said louder. You paused, biting your lip swallowing back the lump in your throat. "What works?" You asked quietly. Demetri looked at you, void of emotion whilst your emotions began to build. You continued. "After all this time, you didn't say a word to me. I've been here terrified and you didn't send as much as a letter or a call. I was frightened I would be dead, that you would be in trouble that my sister and her family would be in trouble- this whole time!" The more you told him, the closer you got to him, fighting back tears. Demetri grasped your elbows. "I couldn't because when I was angry and when I wasn't angry, I've been talking to Aro, Caius and Marcus. To make sure that at least you'd be safe in all of this. I convinced them you couldn't have possibly have understood, have known enough to ever piece it together. The only reason it worked was because you're my mate! If you were anyone else...you wouldn't get the chance." Demetri took a breath to calm himself. "If you would have told me, this would have been much more simple." Your lip quivered. "I-I try to keep up, I do but..." You shook your head. "I don't know enough about your kind to ever understand." "I know." Demetri said quietly. "That's what's going to save you, my love. I'm sorry, I am so sorry that you're in this position but I'm going to fix it. I just need you to trust me and I need you to be honest. Never ever out yourself in this situation again." Demetri pulled you closer to him, searching your eyes. "I know I went silent for some time and I'm sorry I left you worrying but it's alright now. I'm fixing it." Demetri cracked a small lighthearted smile. "Didn't you miss me?" Your mouth twisted, his attempt at cheering you up failing. However he continued to prod. "(Y/N), didn't you miss me?" His lips brushed against your own. "Even a little?" "Of course, I missed you." You breathed. You pulled back before he could kiss you and he tilted his head in confusion. Your eyes darted at every angle ad though making sure you were alone. "Are you reluctant to kiss me because you feel it's betraying them?" Demetri asked. You looked alarmed. That's exactly how you felt. "No-I-uh..." You stuttered, mind going blank with no excuses at all. "This is interesting." Demetri hummed, looking less than pleased. "It's really plaguing your mind isn't it? You don't know what to do. Be with me and you're betraying your sister or join your sister and betray me. You have no clue what to do." Your eyes fell to the forest floor, almost ashamed you could he read so easily. "Listen, if we're fine-" "Kiss me." Demetri interrupted. Your eyes darted up to his, wide in surprise. "Kiss me." Demetri repeated, moving closer to you. "We are completely alone. No one is watching and no one can hear us. It's only you and I here.Everything that has happened, everything that will happen- forget it. Just as I said, back when we first spoke. Take away our roles and it doesn't matter to us. So even for just the next five minutes, let's just forget everything. Be my (Y/N). No catch, no consequences, just us here and now. Kiss me, (Y/N)."

In an instant, you closed the gap, capturing his lips with your own. Demetri cradled your face as he kissed you back with just as much force. You broke the kiss, leaning your forehead against his. "If I do as you ask." You whispered. "If I trust you, completely give in to you and let you deal with this. Promise me, I won't regret it." Demetri kissed you again. "I'm going to fix this it'll be easier if you trust me. It's all I ask."

When the day arrived that the Volturi would come, it was bittersweet. To see Demetri again always tugged in your heart strings but under these circumstances, you couldn't be sure that was important. Aro and Carlisle were the first to speak and to your surprise. Aro got straight to business, starting with you. "Firstly, I'd say we should get the first issue dealt with." Aro said, his eyes falling on you. "(Y/N)...why dont you come with us?" Your eyes widened in surprise and after a moment of silence, Demetri stepped forward. "(Y/N)!" He called softly. "Come." He held out a hand. The pleading look he sent you made you aware that this was it.

This is what he meant. You realised that this was him fixing it. Carlisle's words rang in your mind. The Volturi often spared those they deemed innocent. All of those people ended up being in the guard. Due to their remarkable gifts. You didn't have one but what you did have, was the heart of his prized tracker and one of the higher guards. If he wanted to keep Demetri loyal to the Volturi, He'd have to bring you. Your heart beat faster in your chest realising you'd be the next. Although Demetri's words were the last thing you remembered. Him asking you to trust him and you did, you wanted to. You felt terrible as you moved forward. Bella sent you a pleading look and you didn't dare look at her. If you thought about it, or even cast a glance to her, you'd feel the guilt. Demetri was quick to take your hand and pull you tightly into his side. His arm pressing you against him. You realised he was taking a protective stance, ready for any attack.

When Renesmee and the Cullen's were proven innocent, only Irina taking the fall, did you realise what would happen. You looked to Demetri. "I can't go back, can I?" You said quietly. Demetri shook his head slightly with a slightly apologetic gaze. "I'm sorry. It was the only way." You felt tears build up and Demetri pulled you into him tighter. "Please stay with me. I can't lose you." You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I know. I know. It's okay." It wasn't. Your human life was cut short. You could never see your family ever again. Your sister would never want to see you again. Slowly, you turned your head to look at her. She met your gaze and to your surprise she nodded with a soft gaze. You couldn't believe it. Bella was encouraging you to go. She said nothing but you knew what she would say. She'd reassure you it was okay. You could go. Bella recognised how much you gave for her happiness with Edward and now it was time to repay the favour. Demetri also caught sight of this before lifting you into his arms. He couldn't help but smile as he began to walk away with many other guards, taking off with you in a blur.

#request #twilight #volturi #the volturi #reader #demetri volturi #oneshot #one shot

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thegrantwater · 3 years

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Darkness Feeds on the Saddest Souls

And you, my dear, are delectable.

inspiration from this post, which managed to pull me out of my swanqueen rut. i'm considering expanding this into a multi-chapter thing, but i wanna hear you guys' thoughts first! also posted on my ao3 :)

word count: 1169

Emma always thought she knew what darkness felt like. The crippling loneliness of an empty car in the middle of winter, melting into the backseat in an attempt to stay warm. Watching friends leave like clockwork, or being locked away for a crime she didn’t commit, or her son being stripped from her life when she was no more than a child herself. She thought the sick satisfaction she felt locking bail jumpers away and knocking them around in the process was darkness.

She was wrong.

True darkness is scarily comforting. Before Regina was surrounded, before they’d all realized what was so intensely wrong about the night sky they were under, an unsettling cool filled her body - it numbed her legs and dazed her brain, which is why it took the tendrils of destruction brushing her cheek before she noticed Regina had been pulled away.

“What’s it doing?” Robin was panicking, standing in shock.

“What darkness does...snuffing out the light.” Regina was light, and Emma was a moth to her flame.

It was almost painful for her to watch Robin’s attempt at a rescue, because this feeling in her stomach told her nothing would be able to save Regina. The fear in her eyes was crippling, like she knew that whatever happened next wouldn’t be good. Screams ripped through Regina’s throat, shaking the air more than the darkness around her. And as Emma watched, she slowly remembered the dagger in her hand, the cool leather of the handle weighing heavy in her palm. So, ever the savior, she did the only thing she could think of.

She ran. The force of the darkness was compelling, pushing her away from her mission. Still she pressed, holding the dagger above her head. A voice split through the din, a cry from Regina.

“There has to be another way!” Regina was shaking, trying her hardest to pull herself away from the darkness around her. Tears streamed down her face, all hope gone from her eyes.

“There isn’t!” Emma shouted, her grip a vice on the dagger. “You’ve worked too hard to have your happiness destroyed!” Her parents were screaming behind her, begging her not to do this. She turned back to them, because they’ve gotten the darkness out of her before and they can do it again, and the only thing she can do right now is fight to save Regina. She turned back to the brunette, tears flowing freely and a tremble in her hand, but she was ready. Henry would be okay without her, he was for how many years before he tracked her down, and Regina would be okay. She reached forward for the last time, resigned to her fate as the tendrils of black moved towards her. Regina’s eyes were wide, fear and confusion clear in them as her mouth opened in a silent scream.

“I can’t let you do this, Swan.”

The dagger fell as Emma was pulled away from the cloud, leather clad arms wrapped around her stomach. She scrambled against Killian’s grip, kicking and screaming for him to let her go as Regina was once again covered by the darkness. There was another set of hands on them, fighting to let Emma go, and she realized it was Robin when the two men started shouting at each other. But Killian was determined, much like Emma, but for paradoxical reasons. He wanted to save Emma; but if she were honest with herself, she’d forgotten he was there.

Nails scratched at his hands as she struggled, digging deep and burning with each swipe. Her magic was running wild, snapping left and right in a futile attempt to break free. And all the while Regina was slowly consumed, her form disappearing behind a cloud of dark. The cloud condensed, a mass of pure night, and as it went back into the sky Emma finally managed to escape Killian’s hold. She bolted forward, tripping on her feet as she stumbled to the empty spot where Regina Mills once stood. In her place was only the dagger, spinning in the frenzy and clattering to the ground. Emma fell to the concrete, and she felt her jeans tear at the knees as she reached forward, grabbing the dagger. The previously smooth metal was now tainted, engraved with the name of the one person who only deserved to have her name written on paperwork, or uttered softly between gentle stolen kisses in the back of the diner.

The scream that broke from Emma’s throat was shattering, leaving everyone to listen as her world began to collapse in on itself. She clutched the dagger to her chest, whispering her prayers to bring Regina back. But God stopped answering her hopeless calls many years ago.

“Regina! Where is she, where’s she gone?” Robin was desolate, standing speechless behind her. Emma fell forward, the dagger still in her arms as she wept. Over and over she muttered to herself, “Dark One, I summon thee.” She knew no one would come, no one would be there to tell her she was an idiot or assuage her guilt.

“She’s gone, mate.” The pirate’s voice rang in her ears, and Emma turned, facing the people behind her. A cold had settled into her eyes as she stood, glaring at the man before her.

“You did this,” She breathed. “Why wouldn’t you let me save her?” She moved at lightning speed, and David was on her the moment she put the dagger to Hook’s throat, struggling to move her away. “She would still be here if it wasn’t for you! I was supposed to protect her! Why wouldn’t you let me save her?” She screamed, her venom biting at his skin. The dagger tilted forward, and Killian let out a noise of shock as it dug into his neck. His hand moved to her wrist, his grip so tight she felt his fingerprints on her bones.

“I was only trying to protect you Emma!” He defended, shouting back at the blonde. He squeezed again, and the dagger fell just as David pulled her away. Her back hit his chest and the pair fell to the ground as Emma once again sobbed.

“What happened? Where’s my mom?” Emma heard Henry run up to the group as Killian wiped the blood from his neck. David still had a grip on Emma, but one of his hands had moved to her hair, running it over her head as he mumbled words of remorse into her ear. The conversation around her was dull, like she was hearing it from the bottom of a pool - all she heard clearly were Regina’s fractured cries as she fought against the darkness. She was just there, and now she was gone.

As her vision blurred in and out of focus, the only thing she could see was the dagger, sparkling under the streetlights. Regina’s name taunted her, and reminded her of the fact she so desperately wished to deny.

Emma had lost. And Regina was gone.

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nowis-scales · 2 years

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Blood-Splattered Child Aesthetics + Quotes Guessing Game

Here it is, the BSC Ship Guessing Game, here to heal you after yet another chapter of angst. For those of you who don’t read BSC, basically the gist of this is that I don’t currently have my pairings labelled for the fic on AO3, but I’d like to change that next chapter. However, before I do that, I thought it would be fun to play a guessing game based on quotes + aesthetics to see if everyone can figure out what I’m working towards.

Whether you’re reading the fic or not, feel free to drop a guess via reply, inbox message, or AO3 comment. Remember: only characters in Fire Emblem Fates count! Participation is not mandatory. I’m not expecting too many answers, I just thought it would be fun, so please don’t sweat it!

Please enjoy, and check at the end to see if I give you any hints. Oh, and if you’re interested in the fic, you can pick it up here.

Pairing #1:

Quotes:

“The best friends of our childhoods are the loves of our lives, and they break our hearts in worse ways.”

“I didn’t know what to call it, what was happening between us, but I liked it. It felt silly and fragile and good.”

“When I’d first loved him, I wanted to take him apart, as a child dismembers a clockwork toy, to comprehend the inscrutable mechanics of its interior. I wanted to see him far more naked than he was with his clothes off.”

Pairing #2:

Quotes:

“And you love him. Tell me, if he handed you a bloodied hand, would you take it, only because it was his?”

“You touch me and I feel a little less war torn. I’m not sure what peace is supposed to feel like, but I think it may feel a lot like you.”

“I can’t go another day choking back “I love you”. I feel it in my shoulders when I breathe.”

Pairing #3:

Quotes:

“You kiss the back of my legs and I want to cry. Only the sun has come this close, only the sun.”

“I burned so quiet and so long you must have wondered if I loved you back. I did, I did, I do.”

“I told the stars about you.”

Pairing #4:

Quotes:

“You’re a bad idea… but I like bad ideas.”

“In this space right here that we have made for each other, you can say anything and I will not abandon you. Unwrap the worst things you have done. Watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch.”

“I’m quite choked with tenderness for you, my love, it makes me a bit pathetic to love you this much.”

Pairing #5:

Quotes:

“I never thought of her as a thing to be considered by daylight. The many times I had seen her, none had been in the day. I expected her like I expected the moon.”

“Loving me must be so fucking hard and I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I won’t be in the history books; that’s for you. But I loved you first. As long as they get that right, I don’t care what they say.”

Pairing #6:

Quotes:

“Can I kiss you before I kill you?”

“In the dream I don’t tell anyone, you put your head in my lap.”

“You’re the only person I’ve ever met who seems to have the faintest conception of what I mean when I say a thing.”

HINTS:

‣ Each of these pairings have photos in their aesthetics that pertain to their arcs and or future special moments.

‣ Pairing #1 I think will be by far the one that stumps the most people. I even think that you might not be able to get it at all.

‣ Pairing #2 is a rarepair that is not often used in game due to limited gameplay value.

‣ Pairing #3 has a character who could be said to have experienced compulsory heterosexuality.

‣ Pairing #4 are two characters who are not often considered alike, but have a particular thread that connects them.

‣ Pairing #5 grows from one-sided flirting to a budding friendship before a full conversion to romance.

‣ Pairing #6 features more of a quiet love, one that both sides are embarrassed or shy about.

Best of luck to all of you with your guessing!

#miscellaneous blood-splattered child content

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spectacled-renegade-writes · 1 year

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An Early Start - Chapter 22 - Danny Phantom

Ao3: Here | Masterpost: Here

Ao3 Description: The accident that turns Danny half-ghost happens when he is four years old and leaves him trapped in the Ghost Zone. Clockwork finds him and takes him in to raise. But what happens when Clockwork sends Danny back to the human-world ten years later when a permanent portal appears?

Chapter 22:

In some ways, things got easier. But in others, things remained. The day Danny came back home after his epiphany he told Jazz about it, too. He felt it was the least he could do after ditching school and leaving her in the dark again.

Now that Danny was aware of the things stressing him out, he could better learn how to cope with it, and in the weeks following he seemed all around less tense, according to Sam and Tucker. One fateful morning, Jazz offered Danny a ride to school, something he hasn’t taken her up on in a while, since he liked the solitude of walking (or flying). He thanked her for the ride as they entered the school.

“No problem, Danny.” Jazz smiled. “I’ve missed our morning drives to school together. They feel like the only time we get to hang out anymore.”

Danny smiled sheepishly, and was about to offer to hang out after school when an alarm interrupted his attempt to respond before it even began.

“Ghost alert! Ghost alert!” A mechanical female voice said over the school’s speakers as red lights and alarm bells began to ring.

Danny tensed up at the barrage of noise and lights, and Jazz grabbed his shoulders and yelled, “Danny, hide!”

But Danny wasn’t concerned. Ghost alarms have never gone off while he was in human form before, so it must be a different ghost. However his ghost sense didn’t go off. But just as he thought to be concerned about it, Mr. Lancer walked through the hallway with a cheap monster mask on and pretended to be a ghost. “Booooo,” his voice wavered as he tried to mimic a ghost. “I am a ghosssst!”

Danny deadpanned. Next to him, Sam and Tucker appeared. “Looks like you didn’t get the memo.” Sam said, rolling her eyes as she held up said ridiculous memo. “The school is running ghost drills now.”

Danny rolled his eyes too and shook his head.

“Who’s that supposed to fool?” Jazz asked.

She shouldn’t have asked.

Their father barged in wearing the Fenton Peeler and shouted, like a battle cry, “Ghost!” He skidded to a halt in front of the two siblings. “I got the memo, and I know there are ghosts around here!”

Danny wished he could sink into the floor. A glance at Jazz yielded the same reaction. He actually would do it too if there weren’t so many people around. Instead, Jazz tried to stop their father by shouting, “Dad! No!”

Of course, because why would he ever listen to his kids, Jack ignored what Jazz had to say and yelled, “Eat ghost peeler, spook!” Then proceeded to blast Mr. Lancer with an ecto-charged attack from a weapon of his own design. One by one each of Mr. Lancer’s clothes were disintegrated off his body until only his underwear remained. It was no surprise when the following thing to happen was the entire surrounding student body bursting into laughter.

One student even yelled, “I’ll never respect his authority again!”

Mr. Lancer’s gaze zeroed in on the Fenton family and he stalked over to them, covering himself up with a nearby painting as he did. “I can’t give you detention,” he growled at Jack. “But someone named Fenton is staying after school!”

Danny knew it would be him even before his sister and father left. At least Jazz put a hand on his shoulder and whispered, “I’ll make it up to you.” As she passed. Well, so much for hanging out later.

The only silver lining of the day was that Danny managed to avoid Dash at every turn, and he ate lunch on the roof with his friends so he could catch up with Sidney. But, the end of the day had to come eventually, and Danny said goodbye to his friends before he made his way back to Lancer’s classroom.

“Mr. Fenton,” Lancer said when Danny entered the room. “Sit down.”

Danny chose to stand. He never managed to understand why the adults in this school were feared and as such, did not waver under Mr. Lancer’s attempts at intimidation.

“Mr. Fenton.” Mr. Lancer growled.

Danny understood Mr. Lancer was embarrassed, and genuinely felt bad about what happened to him, but for once this was not a situation Danny felt guilt over. This was the fault of his ghost-obsessed father. Danny pulled out his notebook and began to write, and ignored any further attempts of communication from Mr. Lancer until he was finished. When he was done, he tore the note out and passed it to the teacher.

I know you’re mad and embarrassed, but this isn’t my fault and it's unfair to take it out on me. I don’t like my father’s ghost-obsessed behavior either, and my sister and I told him to stay away from the school. If he won’t listen to his kids, nothing in the world will make him listen, not even mom. She’s just as obsessed as he is.

Danny figured the truth was the right way to go. This whole thing with his human parents has grown beyond exhausting and Danny has surpassed annoyed, and relented to exhaustion on the subject. He kept his eyes downcast and prepared to be completely ignored as students often are at this school. What he wasn’t expecting was for the gentle tone in Mr. Lancer’s voice the next time he spoke.

“Danny,” Mr. Lancer said softly. “Please, take the seat across from my desk.”

Danny almost felt whiplash at the sudden change in demeanor so he did the only thing he could, he sat down.

Mr. Lancer leaned forward with his elbows on his desk and his chin resting on the back of his hands. “Danny, you’re often late to my class and sometimes you don’t even bother to show up altogether. If you do manage to show up then there’s still a chance you will randomly leave early. When you’re here, you keep your head down and keep to yourself, and you barely turn in your homework.”

Danny wondered where his teacher was going with this. He knew the things Mr. Lancer were saying was supposed to be important to him, and maybe if he’d grown up as a normal kid they would be, but as it stands Danny did not see even a lick of importance to these things, short of doing them to follow the human rules.

“But,” Mr. Lancer continued. “When you do turn in your homework, you do excellently. When it’s time to take a test, you pass with flying colors. I never see you take a single note during class and yet you retain everything I teach you. You’re a smart kid, Danny, you just don’t apply yourself. So, after showing me this note, and connecting it with everything else, I have to wonder, is everything okay at home?”

The question caught Danny off guard. On one hand, he didn’t have the heart to tell Lancer that he didn’t retain the things Lancer taught, they were simply things Danny already knew from Clockwork’s teachings, on the other… what exactly did he mean by ‘is everything okay at home’?

It seemed Mr. Lancer could tell Danny didn’t understand and he cleared his throat. “You have... been back for a while now and you seem to have adjusted fairly well considering your circumstances, as well as the length of time you were gone. Now, I don’t want to go too in depth because I’m sure this is a sensitive subject, but as your teacher it’s my job to be concerned about my students. So, I have to ask, were your parents responsible in any way to your disappearance ten years ago? And if so, are they repeating similar behaviors now?”

In another life Danny thought perhaps he’d get angry and defensive at this question. But, in this world, he felt no such animosity. Instead, he saw Mr. Lancer in a way he’s only seen him a few times: An exhausted and underappreciated teacher who at his core, simply wants the best for his students. Danny thought his note must have been a moment of clarity for the man.

Danny put pen to paper. He often didn’t see the point in lying, which is why he almost never did it, but he knew there were times when it was important. Right now it was important. Jazz had explained early on what happened to kids who had parents that didn’t take care of them. She’d told him this to ensure he wouldn’t tell anyone else, so he wouldn’t be taken away from her again. Danny scribbled his answer and passed it to his teacher.

Everything is okay at home. I’m sorry for any concerning implications.

Mr. Lancer was silent for a long time after he read this. He stared at the page, a wrinkle in his brow indicating an internal debate. But, his mind seemed to settle it because he sighed. “Okay,” Mr. Lancer said. “You’re excused.”

Danny pocketed his notebook and grabbed his backpack to leave. He was halfway to the door when Mr. Lancer spoke up one last time. “Just one more thing.” Danny turned to face him. “If there is anything going on, and you don’t feel like you have another adult in your life to turn to, you can always come to me. My door is always open.”

Danny became aware of the fact that this teacher may or may not be more intuitive than he let on. Well, one experience didn’t confirm such a hypothesis, but it was a theory. He nodded to his teacher, then turned and left the room.

Danny’s day only got worse when he got home. He’d been having such a pleasant time lately after recovering from his breakdown that he should have predicted it’d come crashing down soon enough. He made his way to the basement where he heard Jazz chewing out their parents on his behalf. Danny smiled as he descended the stairs, one day he would return the favor.

His smiled faded away when he heard his father going on about all the chores he has neglected to do.

Jazz stepped right in. “Why would you even assign Danny chores down here?! Have you ever thought, for one second, that maybe he doesn’t like being down here? Since, you know, this is the place your experiments nearly killed him ten years ago!”

Danny winced. She was right… partially. It was true that this place brought back those bad memories, but mostly it was because Danny didn't like to be down here while his parents were down here too, and they always were, so Danny avoided the basement. But, he did not refute her claim. He remained silent and watched the exchange, waiting for the right moment to step in if Jazz needed him to. Though he didn't need to because the television in the corner lit up with breaking news.

“The hunt is on for the Amity Park Ghost.” The news anchor said. The family of four stopped their squabbling and turned their attention to the voice. “As a result of today’s false ghost alert at Casper High, the need for competent, non-Jack-Fenton, ghost hunters in Amity Park has never been more obvious.”

Jack, oblivious as ever, only retained the part where he was mentioned and exclaimed, “Hey, they said my name! What in the heck does need for competent ghost hunters mean?” He proceeded to press a button on the Fenton Peeler and douse himself in ectoplasm.

The news anchor continued. “Luckily, a mysterious benefactor has offered a million-dollar bounty on the head of Amity Park’s most famous ghost, and hired the world’s best-known ghost hunters to track him down.”

Danny and Jazz glanced at each other.

“Nobody’s catching that ghost kid but me!” Jack shouted, darting out of the room and knocking over a pile of boxes on his way. He stopped long enough to say, “Danny, clean that up.”

Danny spent the rest of the night with Jazz researching the ghost hunters this “mysterious benefactor” hired. His nerves calmed when they learned these guys were just as incompetent as their father, and have precisely zero instances of actually catching any ghosts.

So, as he met his friends at the Nasty Burger after school the next day, to meet these ghost hunters, Danny felt calm and secure in the knowledge that he’d be okay.

It didn’t take long for his father to show up soon after, and even less time to make a fool of himself. Tucker had thought of a side hustle to earn some extra cash by giving tours of haunted locations around Amity Park. The idea amused Danny, but just as he was about to warn Tucker that maybe dressing as a ghost while doing these tours might not be the best idea around a bunch of incompetent, idiotic ghost hunters, Jack proved Danny’s point ahead of time, and the next thing Tucker knew his costume was ruined by a blast of ectoplasm.

As the other ghost hunters laughed at Jack, Danny’s ghost sense went off, and suddenly he realized who this “mysterious benefactor” was. Where those ghost vultures were, Plasmius wasn’t far behind. Danny sighed. He was tired of fighting him. While the other ghost hunters were distracted by Jack making a fool of himself with the vultures, Danny snuck behind the Nasty Burger and transformed, turning invisible as he took to the sky, looking for Vlad. It didn’t take long to find him on a nearby rooftop. Danny landed a few feet away from him.

After a moment of hesitation, the only thing Danny could bring himself to say as he opened his mouth was, “Why?”

Vlad looked completely unperturbed as he casually answered back, “Because I need you out of they way while I destroy your father. Don’t worry, little badger, I know you can handle those idiots, but that doesn’t mean they won’t put up a fight.”

“Please, Vlad,” Danny begged, exhaustion dripping from his voice. The temperature seemed to deplete with each word of Ghost Speak spoken. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Just call off the vultures and the hunters, and we can work this out.” Even as each word left his lips he knew it was futile. At the very least, Danny knew his words got to Vlad for a moment, considering the quick falter in his expression. It was the reason that Danny hasn’t given up on him yet. If he can manage to fully break through Vlad’s resentful resolve, then he knows he can finally get through to him. But today did not seem to be that day.

“Unless ‘work this out’ includes destroying your father, I’m not interested." Vlad cackled as he lifted off the ground and sped forward, grabbing Danny before he had time to react and flying the both of them high into the air. “Tah!” Vlad shouted as he proceeded to throw Danny toward the gathered ghost hunters.

Danny could not fight against the momentum so instead he braced for impact and landed hard on the ground before quickly gathering himself and fazing into the ground. He met Tucker and Sam behind the Nasty Burger and transformed back.

“Danny, are you okay?” Sam asked.

At the same time, Tucker asked, “Dude, was that Vlad Plasmius?”

Danny nodded, then added, “For both questions.”

As they began to walk back to Danny’s house, Sam asked, “What is he here for?”

Honestly, Danny just had this weird feeling, so he stuck his hands in his coat pockets and shrugged. He kept to himself during the rest of the walk home. Something… something just didn’t feel right, didn’t add up. Yes, of course Vlad hated Danny’s human father and desperately wanted to see him perish but, well, the way he’s going about it just seems random and ill planned, which goes against what Danny has learned of Vlad's cunning behavior. There has to be something else going on.

These thoughts plagued Danny as the made it to the steps of his house. “Listen,” he said, pulling his hands out of his pockets. “You guys do your ghost tours. I have a few things I need to figure out.”

“Like what?” Sam asked.

Danny’s hands fumbled over each other as he struggled to think of the right thing to say. But, he steadied them when he settled on the right words, “Vlad told me what he’s planning, but I think he’s lying. I need to figure out what he’s actually planning before something bad happens.”

“And you need us to distract those idiotic ghost hunters for you.” Tucker finished for him.

Danny nodded sheepishly. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Just pay for my next meal at Nasty Burger and you’ve got yourself a deal!” Tucker held a thumbs up.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “You just focus on Vlad and let us know if you need backup.”

Danny smiled. “Thank you.”

“Not problem, man.” Tucker said. “We’ve got your back.”

So, the three friends parted and Danny went inside and made his way to the basement to do his chores while he thought about it. He knew his parents wouldn’t be down here right now so it was prime time. It was the reason he shirked his chores in the first place, his parents were always down here.

Giving his hands something mindless to do helped Danny think better, too. He really couldn’t understand what it is Vlad could possibly want. At some point he heard his father call out from somewhere in the house, “I’ll be back! I’m going out to search around more for the Amity Park Ghost!”

Danny just finished changing the ecto-filtrator when his ghost sense went off. He spun around to be greeted by both the vultures and Vlad. “Shame.” Vlad hummed, floating to the floor. “I thought you’d still be in pursuit by those other hunters. I guess you’re better than I gave you credit for. No matter." He turned to the vultures. "You three start on the portal.” Then turned back to Danny and cracked his knuckles. “I’ve got this.” Vlad shot an ecto-beam and Danny dodged out of the way just in time, changing into his ghost half as he did.

“The portal?” Danny narrowed his eyes. “I knew you weren’t really here just to kill my father, but the portal? That’s it?”

“My, my!” Vlad clapped his hands sarcastically. “I suppose you are smarter than I gave you credit for. My portal was destroyed so I’m taking Jack’s portal instead! You can try to stop me all you want, Daniel, but I’m still more powerful than you.”

Danny was unimpressed, and just felt so tired of this back and forth. “Please don’t make me do this.” He begged as he charged up an ecto-blast.

“It’s the only way,” Vlad sneered.

The two half-ghosts shot their attacks at the same time, the attacks meeting in the middle and fighting to overpower the other. Instead, they both cancelled out, causing a small explosion that sent both half-ghosts flying into opposite walls. They both quickly got up. Upstairs, Danny could hear Jazz and his mother, and so could Vlad. “Stop them!” Vlad commanded to his vultures as he charged toward Danny.

Danny tried to stop the birds but Vlad crashed into him, elbow first, at the same moment. Danny crashed hard into the floor and his knees nearly buckled underneath him as he struggled to stand up. His ghostly wail has been the only thing to stop Vlad in the past but he couldn’t use it here, not in such a small space, it would send the whole house crashing down. “Why,” Danny coughed. “Do you even need it in the first place? If you had one before it means you built it. Why not just rebuild it instead of going through all this trouble?”

It was such sound logic that Danny was surprised when the expression Vlad made in response gave way to the fact that he simply hadn’t thought of this.

Vlad sneered to cover up his embarrassment. “Because,” he punctuated. “This is much more fun! Besides, I get to humiliate Jack this way. That’s why!”

Then it occurred to Danny why Vlad hadn’t thought of the logical solution: He couldn’t. Every bit of Vlad’s rage stemmed from Jack Fenton so when something else angered Vlad, he automatically associated it with Jack Fenton as well. It was a realization that disappointed Danny. How was he supposed to get through to someone who subconsciously associated all his rage and anger toward one man? Danny turned around to look back at the portal. The vultures seemed to have taken care of his mother and sister because were back trying to dismantle it. Danny hoped they were okay. He barely had time to turn his head back to Vlad when a loud thud echoed through the room.

“Freeze, spooks!” Jack shouted from where he’d jumped off the stairs to the lab, holding the Fenton Fisher. “I got an alert that there was an explosion in the lab!” He cast the Fenton Fisher at Vlad but Vlad only laughed and broke out of it.

Danny used the distraction to faze into the floor. His father could hold Vlad off for now. Right now, he needed to make sure his mother and sister were okay.

As the battle raged on in the basement, Danny turned invisible and intangible, and flew quickly through the entire house, searching for them. His ears picked up on banging and he followed it to the weapons vault. He found his mother and Jazz trapped inside, unable to escape due to a lack of handle. He felt his shoulders sag in relief when he saw they were unharmed. So, he grabbed them by the collar of their shirts and pulled them out to the other side.

“They let us out?” Maddie asked incredulously, looking around for the ghost responsible.

But Jazz just smiled. “Not them.” She said.

Danny smiled back but remained invisible as he dashed back toward the basement... only to see the vultures missing and his father throwing Vlad Plasmius into the Ghost Zone. Well, he thought. That’s surprising. Danny touched the floor and returned back to his human form since his father’s back was turned.

Danny ended up hanging out with Jazz that night after all, after texting his friends what happened. He told his sister what happened too. By the end of the night, as Danny lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, he was left with a weird pit in his stomach. The whole thing just ended so abruptly. Minimal combat, no resolution, and a feeling of want leftover. Danny turned to his side and stared out his window, out into the stars. He had a feeling this was not an isolated incident, but instead a beginning.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ao3 Notes:

We're getting so close to the end! I can't believe it!

Thank you so much for reading and I truly hope you have a lovely day/night! <3

#an early start au #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny phantom fanfic #mute!danny fenton #disabled danny fenton #danny fenton #jazz fenton #vlad plasmius #vlad masters #jack fenton #mr. lancer #sam manson #tucker foley #maddie fenton #anxiety #lost time #renegade writes

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captainsolare · 3 years

Note

Hiiii Cap 🥰 Can I get Yami fluff? 💕 Roll 4 times for AU, 1 time for dialogue prompt and 3 times for trope 💕 Thank you!!

A/N: Hi Nati!! I hope you enjoy it! Prince Yami is a very dreamy idea.

Yami Fluff + Royalty AU! + Locked in a (chamber) + "I wish I could hate you."

Yami stretched, nearly falling out of the tree he was perched in. He steadied himself, taking a long breath of air before leaning back against the tree; they’d be looking for him soon, they always did. Like clockwork, he heard footsteps rushing into the courtyard, “Prince Yami! I know you’re here in one of these trees, you have royal duties to attend to.”

Rolling his eyes, he hopped out of the tree, landing with a thud on the ground below. It was Finral, his primary keeper that had come for him this time.

“There you are! Prince you can’t keep going off like this, it worries the King.” Finral chastised, ushering him down the long hallway to Yami’s office.

Yami sighed, “I know, I know. But paperwork is boring.” He sat down at his desk, eyeing the files that sat untouched upon it.

Finral crossed his arms, fixing Yami with his sternest glare, but it failed like always and his gaze softened. “I know it’s no fun, but you must attend to your princely duties.”

The door shut with a click and Finral returned to his post outside it.

Yami sighed, putting his feet on the desk and flipping open the first file. “If he’s so worried about me, why doesn’t he ever come to see me?”

Once night fell you scaled the castle wall easily, keeping to the shadows. You’d spent weeks memorizing the guards’ schedule, figuring out the weaknesses in this impenetrable castle, and now was the perfect time to act. You had managed to get a map of the inside of the castle before you came here, and by now had committed it to memory.

If your intel was to be believed, the item you were looking for was kept in Prince Yami’s desk, the second drawer from the top, right-hand side. You crept along the walls, thankful for your camouflage cloak when a pair of guards went past your position. The trip to the second floor was quick work, but now came the hard part, you’d need to make it into the Prince’s room without getting caught. You found an empty room a few doors down and snuck inside, preparing to stand on the window ledge and scale across that way.

The window opened with surprising ease and you stepped outside after making sure the coast was clear. You could only pray that there was no one awake in the rooms between your current position and the room you were trying to get to. Thankfully, it seemed as if all the lights were off in the rooms between, so you should be able to slip past without detection. You made it to the Prince’s room and crouched down, praying the window wouldn’t open too loudly.

To your relief, the window opened with ease, and you smiled. It was obvious from the wear that the Prince often used this window to sneak out. You entered the room cautiously, boots thudding softly on the carpeted floor. The desk was across the room, but based on the snores you heard from the Prince’s bed, getting there shouldn’t be a problem.

You opened the drawer and just as your intel had said, there lay the ruby bracelet, ripe for the taking. Soon, you’d be off somewhere remote with plenty of pocket change. Your only way out of here was back the way you came, so you started heading off in that direction, but there was a whoosh of steel and a sword was placed dangerously close to your neck.

“Who are you?” Prince Yami asked, voice rumbly from sleep. “Just a thief.” You replied quietly, there was no talking your way out of this one. You raised your hands in submission, dropping the bracelet. Yami released the sword from your neck and picked up the bracelet, putting it in his pocket. Before he could ask for your name you were taking off across the room, trying to get to the window before he could stop you.

“Wait!” He whispered harshly, “Don’t step… there.”

There was a loud clicking sound, you’d stepped on a trap door. The floor opened up, sending you both tumbling into the pit below. The pit was surprisingly soft at the bottom, as you patted your hand around you realized it was hay.

“Are you okay?” You heard the Prince ask. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could make him out in the ambient light.

“Yes, I am.”

“That’s good to hear.” He leaned against the wall of the pit, hair disheveled from sleep and from your fall into this place.

An uncomfortable silence settled over you, only the sound of your breaths breaking it.

“Any idea when we can get out of here?” You asked, watching him with hopeful eyes.

Yami sighed, “Not until morning. My knight will come looking for me then and he’ll be able to let us out.”

You smiled sadly, “I see, and I guess after that happens I’ll be executed.”

“Probably.”

The silence fell over you again, this time a more somber one.

“What’s your name?” Yami asked, turning to face you.

You took a breath, wondering if this was a good idea, then decided to just tell him, if you were to die anyway, it would be nice to make a friend first.

“It’s Y/N.”

“I see, that’s a pretty cool name.”

You laughed, “You think so? It seems pretty normal to me.”

Yami smiled, “Maybe so. You’ll have to forgive me, I don’t have many friends.”

“Really? I’d expect a handsome prince such as yourself to be surrounded by them.”

Yami laughed, a deep rumbly chuckle that you could feel in your own chest, “I suppose it may appear that way, but really it’s just people that want to suck up to me because of my title.”

You nodded, fixing your gaze upwards, “I know how that goes.”

Yami squinted, surprised at your admission, “Really? You don’t seem the type.”

You laughed and Yami cocked his head, studying your face best he could in this light, “Even royals can become disgraced Prince Yami. I used to be in a similar position to yourself, but I ran away, needed to get out of that place.”

You scooted closer to each other as you continued with your story, Yami settled his elbows on his knees.

“I used to have dreams about leaving, buying my own house by the seaside, living independently. No maids or servants, just me.” Your voice sounded almost wistful as you spoke, and Yami thought of his own dreams.

“I want to leave this place too.”

“Is that so? Where would you go?” You cocked an eyebrow, studying him. Prince Yami was attractive in a rugged sort of way, his jaw was chiseled and covered with stubble, and even in this dim light, you could tell how muscular he was.

Yami straightened, his eyes full of a hopeful sparkle, “I want to go live in the forest and open my own Knight Training academy. I’d take in the misfits from the Kingdom, those who have no place else to go. Maybe we’d be a family of sorts, it would certainly be better than what I have here.”

You smiled, a wistful sadness overtaking you, “That sounds lovely Prince Yami.”

“Oh please, call me Yami, there’s no need for formality here. And really? You don’t think it’s dumb?”

“No, not at all. In fact, I think it’s a noble dream.”

The two of you talked for a while longer, until your eyes were bleary with sleep. You huddled together for warmth as the pit became colder.

“I’m sorry I got us into this mess Yami.” You said softly, you had scooted next to him now, your head resting lightly on his chest.

Yami chuckled softly, “I wish I could hate you for it but the truth is, this is the first time I’ve been able to be this open with anyone in quite a while.”

“I see, well that’s comforting to hear.”

Yami got the spark of an idea, “Y/N.”

“Yes?”

He sat up excitedly, and you pulled away so you could look at him better.

“What if I did open that training school, and what if you were my first recruit? If you didn’t end up being executed of course. We could find a spot in the woods near the seaside, there is such a place, I’ve seen it. And we could open that school together! You’ve already proven that you can be sneaky, you could train our knights in stealth techniques.”

Yami’s words were kind, you could find hope being stoked in your heart, but you knew it couldn’t happen. You surely would be executed for trespassing and attempted theft.

“But… how would that happen? I will surely be killed in the morning.”

“Not if I lie.”

“Lie? What could you possibly come up with that could get me out of my inevitable fate?”

“You’ll see, I am excellent at talking my way out of things.”

You wished you could believe him.

The trapdoor was opened sometime later, letting the harsh light of the morning into your prison.

“Prince Yami, how many times have I told you to be careful? I have pointed the spot of the trapdoor to you many many times now.” A voice from above said.

“I know Finral, I’m sorry.”

You and Yami climbed from the pit and Finral drew his knife. You tried not to panic, but the possibility of you being thrown in jail, and worse, were almost certain now.

“Who is this Prince Yami? Are they a criminal? Did they trespass into your room?”

Yami put a hand up, gesturing for Finral to put the knife down.

“No, they aren’t, and no they didn’t. This is Y/N, and the past few months we have been discussing plans for my training academy, in secret of course.”

Finral blinked, looking from you to Yami and back again. “Is this where you have been running off to then?”

Yami nodded sheepishly, “Yes, I didn’t want to tell you because you’d already warned me against such actions.”

“Prince Yami, you already know I support you fully. In fact, I have already found a property in the woods like you wanted. I’ve even cleared your plan for the school with the King.”

Yami sucked in a breath, “Is the ocean close by too?”

When Finral nodded, you and Yami clasped each other's hands excitedly, then you wrapped Finral into a tight hug.

“This is great! When can we set off?” Yami asked, chuckling as Finral took deep breaths after being let go.

“Right now if we hurry.”

“Great! I will pack my bags.”

Finral nodded and set off to pack his own.

“Well?” Yami turned to you, eyes full of hope, “Do you still want to come? If you want to leave there will be no hard feelings.”

To his delight, you smiled, taking his hand in your own. “Of course I do.”

Over the course of one night, your life had completely changed, and you were filled with hope once more. Maybe, just maybe, you could make a difference here, unlike in your own kingdom. As you watched Yami buzzing about, packing his things, you couldn’t help but smile, maybe you could find love here as well.

#yami x reader #yami sukehiro #yami fluff #black clover yami #prince yami #gender neutral reader #aurora borealis #planet fate

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crashbandicunttt · 4 years

Text

So, I wrote this Borra smut fanfiction upon no one’s behest. lmao. I just love Bolin so much and thought if the writers paired him canonically with Korra, I imagine their energy would be just chaotic in a good way. Plus, that Borra date montage just really has me in a chokehold, especially the way Bolin looks at Korra. let me die.

FIRST

A Bolin x Korra smut fanfiction.

E rating.

Set in a mix of the LoK universe and the modern world. There’s enough context in the story though, I think. You don’t need that much context though, this story is just mostly horny.

“So.” Bolin said, half chuckling.

“So.” Korra responded in a small voice.

They stayed that way for a little while longer, under the cover together but never touching.

And to think everything seemed to start off relatively easy.

—

The agreement was simple and straightforward, a pact made when Korra was thirteen and Bolin was fourteen: if neither of them gets laid by the time they are eighteen, then they would rather lose their virginities to each other. At the time Bolin admitted it was not his brightest moment. After all, it was at age ten that Bolin first discovered Korra was not only the girl he wanted to hang out with all day during the weekends, but that he wanted to be beside her all the time. He realized he wanted to be with her long before the pact was made.

If he remembered correctly, the pact was made clumsily and in response to an encounter they should have probably not experienced.

It was a fateful winter night when the pact was formed. Bolin’s large extended family was home for the holidays, and being that their family was large, every holiday saw their house filled to the brim with people. Bolin beamed with joy, completely in his element interacting with each and every member of his family. Unlike Mako, Bolin was less sullen and enjoyed the company of many as much as he enjoyed the company of his own brother.

Or Korra, it seemed, who he finally spotted standing with her back flush against the wall closest to the basement door, holding a cup of water in her hand that she was so intently watching. Bolin excused himself to stroll closer to her, ignoring the way his heart pounded so much louder whenever he was around her.

There was no reason she had to know.

Holding his cup in his own hand, he waited for her to look up at him and the way she instantly smiled just made him feel all sorts of warm and… funny inside. Only when he got older would he realize what that was, but at the time, he labelled that feeling ‘funny,’ an emotion that made him grin at her.

She grinned back. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he responded, clinking his cup against hers, to which she obliged happily. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just a lot of people. And I only really know you. And Mako. And your grandmother.”

That she did, and no matter how many times Bolin introduced her, she seemed to forget them. Bolin supposed that was just the thing about big families. Now, enough movies told him that whisking a girl away to somewhere nice in the middle of a party was the way to go. Only there were no ‘nice’ places in their household, and the cold winter night outside limited their options severely. So Bolin turned to the next best thing: the basement.

It made sense that Korra would stand in the proximity of the room they hung out in the most. Every Friday like clockwork since they were old enough to understand how to operate the DVD player, Bolin and Korra would sit on the couch in the basement and watch a movie together. Sometimes Mako would join them, but as he grew older, he remained in his room for longer periods and joined Friday basement movie nights only sparingly.

This time, Mako was bustling about helping their grandmother tend to the guests. Bolin and Korra snuck away to the basement with ease, and when Korra flopped down onto the sofa, she seemed to sigh in relief for the first time all night. Bolin hid a careful smile as he turned to the DVD player. A disk case of their favourite movie sat on top of the DVD player. Bolin figured if there was something that could help Korra’s nervous energy abate, it would be watching something familiar.

Only, when he sat down and pressed the remote so the disk would be fed into the slot, something completely different materialized on the screen. It was… not their favourite movie, that was for sure. In fact, it didn’t even seem very appropriate at all. Bolin and Korra looked at each other but neither made a move to pop open the DVD player, go back upstairs, and forget this ever happened. Perhaps it was pubescent curiosity that made them stay seated where they were, staring intently at the unfolding events on screen until it finished. Both of them had questions in mind that they did not have the courage to ask each other just yet. Not now that Bolin’s shirt felt too tight and his skin too hot, not now that Korra’s hair seemed to lay much too flat on her forehead, sticking down due to the light sheen of sweat.

“Uhm,” Bolin awkwardly broke the heavy silence first. “So, that was a different, uhm, movie.”

“That was… Bo, I don’t think that was a movie.”

“Y-yes it is,” Bolin responded with nervous laughter, tugging at his collar. “Didn’t you see the actors?”

Korra’s look was puzzled, but she didn’t say anything for a long time after that, and neither did Bolin. The party upstairs continued merrily, and soon, thankfully, Bolin’s body temperature dropped and his shirt no longer felt three sizes too small.

Well, until Korra decided to attack the awkwardness by saying: “I’m pretty sure that was sex.”

Bolin couldn’t help but agree. He knew Korra well enough to sense that this specific tone of her voice brokered no argument. Which meant they were venturing into uncharted territory and he had to be careful not to show any signs that, well, he would rather not have this conversation with her because, well, it was simply too awkward to talk about something so intimate in such a casual manner with the person he liked so much.

He gulped. “Yes. I think so, yes.”

Korra looked thoughtful, her gaze back in her cup of water again. “What do you think it feels like?”

“Wh—what?”

“Sex,” she asked, unyielding blue eyes now trained at him. Too tight. Tomorrow, he will burn this shirt.

“I don’t know.”

“Should it feel bad?” Korra tilted her head.

Something told Bolin it shouldn’t, but he had the same question in his head while they were watching the video. “I don’t think so,” he said. Of this, at least, he felt sure. He and Mako may not have any parents anymore but he was vaguely aware two people in love also engaged in… well, sex, and that their love meant sex was supposed to feel good. With a full blown blush, he told Korra as much, and she took his information like it was nothing but plain fact rather than fuel to an increasingly uncomfortable conversation. For Bolin, of course, who had never had this conversation with a girl before. With some of his guy friends at school, sure, but never with a girl, much less Korra.

He drank from his cup as he watched Korra think from the corner of his eyes. Finally, she blinked up at him.

“You think that will hurt me?” She asked. Bolin choked on his water. Korra was quick to pat his back, which only made it worse.

“I— uhm,” he cleared his throat. “I don’t know.”

“You think it will hurt you?” She followed up, unfazed by his discomfort. Spirits, this is the first time he actually regretted going to the basement. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. He just wanted Korra to feel a little less overwhelmed so that when she goes back up with him to the party, it’ll be easier for her to interact with everyone else.

“I— I hope not.” He finally croaked out, thumping his chest lightly with his balled fist, willing the discomfort in his throat to melt away. It didn’t, especially not when Korra’s resolute eyes trained on him. This time, he knew a decision was going to follow it and he didn’t exactly know if it would be a good one. He hoped it would be good because Korra sticks to things she wants to do with a fiery passion.

Korra crossed her legs on the couch and set her cup down on the floor.

“You said that sex was something that two people who loved each other did.” She explained, almost to herself. “But in the video, they didn’t seem to be happy doing it.”

“Yeah?” Bolin said, setting his own cup down and rubbing his throat from all the coughing.

“Does that mean she didn’t love him?”

This conversation was so weird. Bolin had such a vague idea of sex that every question Korra threw at him felt like a trap. Granted, he was one year older than Korra and thus felt like he knew about this whole thing more than her, but he felt like it was still not his place to talk about these things with her. After all, she had her parents.. But the cat was already out of the bag and there didn’t seem to be a way he was going to get Korra to think about anything else until this was finished.

“I don’t know many things about that but… I guess maybe, they’re not doing it for love.”

“Why not?”

“I think because maybe… maybe it doesn’t matter if they love each other.” This was horrible. If only it weren’t so cold outside then maybe he could bend himself a little rock house and promptly die in it.

“So they’re just having sex?”

Bolin shrugged, trying to be dismissive about it. “I think so.”

“Well,” Korra said after a while. “I thought of something.”

“Okay?”

“Obviously, when I grow up, I’ll be doing that.”

Bolin winced, feeling entirely responsible for the blunder. She was only a year younger than him and yet he already felt like he’d violated her, even though they didn’t really expect porn to be tonight’s movie.

“And,” Korra started again, a small smile gracing her lips for the first time since this whole thing started. “Since I already love you, maybe you can be the first person I do that with!”

Since I already love you.

He knew she just meant the friendly type of love, he knew this. He did. But it felt so nice, so warm in his heart when she said that, her sincerity clear in her eyes. It was just the other half of her statement that made him blink in disbelief.

“You want to… what? With— with me?” He asked while placing a hand on his chest. “M—me?”

“Yeah.” Her smile was blinding, like she hadn’t just said something that started to fry Bolin’s pubescent brain in a hot oil bath of dangerous teenage boy curiosity.

“Well,” he grappled for an excuse and found one just as quickly. “We can’t, though, because we’re not old enough.”

Korra considered this, eventually nodding. “Eighteen, then.”

Bolin gulped. “Eighteen? What do you mean?” Lie, he berated himself. He knew exactly what that meant. And from the looks of it, so did she.

“We wait until we’re eighteen and then we do it. If we don’t find anyone else to do it with by then.”

And this was when his famous mistake began: he’d agreed.

He was so sure she’d forget, so sure she’d eventually turn 19 and only think about the time they popped in a porno into the DVD player by accident as something to laugh about as she went on with her life. Thinking this, Bolin had felt it safe to agree with her request. And so, the pact was made.

Bolin and Korra would lose their virginities to each other if they don’t find any other partner by the time they reach 18.

—

And like almost every promise she made, she made good on this one, too, showing up at his dorm room door a week after her birthday, after she’d moved into the same school he did for college.

Fuck, he thought as he let her enter his dorm room. His roommate was out for the night for his weekly DnD habit.

He sighed. Just his luck, then.

As he closed the door, Korra bounded up to him in a great hug, and Bolin caught her, encircling his thick arms around her. When she pulled away, she punched his arm.

“Ow, Korra!” He admonished, rubbing the spot. “When did you get such a mean right hook?”

“Training to be the Avatar, of course! I also came because I promised I would beat you in an arm-wrestling match one day, didn’t I? Prepare to be defeated!” She exclaimed, before Bolin moved to hush her on account of the other sleeping students on the floor. Korra apologized in an instant, smiling sheepishly at her antics.

There was that funny feeling in the pit of Bolin’s stomach again. And it just intensified when she settled on his single bed, deftly taking off her boots and kicking it to the side. She spotted a folding table off to the side, leaning beside the window. She pulled it close, placing it in front of Bolin’s bed before pointing to a spare chair near the door that was piled high with laundry.

“Come on, pull that seat over here and fight me like a man!” She said, sending Bolin laughing.

“You’re on, lady! I’ll show you what a man looks like!” He retorted, speaking loud enough for effect but quiet enough so as not to disturb everyone else on the floor.

This was good. Good. She came here for a different promise. He might just be able to get out of this. With a flourish, he sat down on his seat and flexed his arm, placing his elbow on the table in preparation for their battle. Realizing he had been topless all this time, he felt a little subconscious, looking at Korra and then scooching his seat just a little close to his bed so he could reach for his tank.

Korra waved her hand dismissively. “Hey, Bo, relax, it’s just me.”

“Oh, okay,” he retreated to his seat, positioning his arm on the table. “Let’s go, little lady,” he said, grinning when she fit her hand easily into his own. Bolin reminded himself that this was an arm-wrestling rematch and willed himself not to dwell on the thought that her hand in his just felt so… perfect. So, so perfect.

Soon, she was exerting effort into her hand, her teeth gritted as she pushed against Bolin’s grip.

“Not to brag but I was born to have a tighter grip, Korra. It’s an earthbender thing.”

Korra scoffed. “No it’s not, and that’s definitely a brag. Don’t forget I’m the Avatar.”

Bolin laughed, and it felt just like old times. “You still weren’t born an earthbender, unfortunately. But fortunately, our established friendship means you can request for me to go easy on you. See that? I used unfortunately and fortunately together. Neat, huh?”

“Ha! No way, Bo! I didn’t practice all that time for nothing,” she responded, and Bolin was surprised to find his hand was actually giving.

“Okay, whoa,” he said, unable to help it. “Okay, that’s impressive. But not more than this!”

With the strength of the right half of his body, he pressed tighter against her hand, determined to give her the fight she deserved. A light sheen of sweat beaded on her brow and it was more alarmingly… attractive than it needed to be. Korra’s hand started to give this time, but with a tight groan, she was able to summon up enough strength to slam Bolin’s hand in defeat.

“Ah, what! No fair! Did you go into the Avatar State just then? That’s illegal, you know.” Bolin protested, comically crossing his arms. Korra’s eyes flitted to his bunched biceps just then, and unbidden, Bolin arched a curious brow. Interesting.

“No, I didn’t,” Korra coughed into her hand before momentarily turning her head to look around the room.

He’ll let that slide. For now. “I could have sworn I saw some glowing! Explain yourself!” He protested, proceeding as normal.

“I have nothing to explain!” She replied, standing up abruptly. They stared at each other, squinting for only a split second and for a split second, Bolin thought she was going to storm out out of embarrassment. Luckily, they’d just ended up laughing together. Korra closed the distance between them to hug him again, and Bolin was all too happy to return her tight embrace.

“It’s so nice to see you, Bo. I really missed you!”

“No, I missed you!” Bolin said, pouting at her. She poked at his cheek intending to kiss it when just at that moment, Bolin turned his head.

The kiss landed on his lip.

A million thoughts rushed through Bolin’s brain in that moment, the most prominent being ‘put as much distance between you and Korra,’ and ‘never let her go.’ It didn’t help that these two thoughts fought each other in his head, rendering him immobile after the soft smack of her lips. It was a tiny thing, he barely tasted her, but his body singed for more. And it did this so because it also knew what day it was, how old they both were.

It knew of the pact.

Bolin swallowed; Korra caught it. Eventually, they broke apart, both feeling flustered. Bolin resolved to find solace away from his room, which now felt entirely stuffy.

“I— uh, need to get something, uh, outside. You can, uh, stay here!” Bolin swung the door open hastily, but stopped when Korra said, “Wait.”

Don’t fight it, you’ve always loved her, his heart screamed at him. But his brain told him this wasn’t what he had in mind. Korra deserved to be worshipped in, maybe, silken sheets or something, not in his cramped dorm room.

“Bolin, please look at me.” She pleaded, and when Bolin turned back to look at her, he wished he wasn’t wearing gray sweats to bed tonight. He could hide nothing in the thing.

Desperate for a distraction, Bolin thought about many other things. All the things, if it meant he could calm down his wildly beating heart in front of her. He stood stock still, shoulders tensed and hunched inward.

“You know why I came here, don’t you?” She asked, stepping slowly towards him and just when Bolin thought she was too close, she reached behind him to close the door. The lamp was usually enough light for him, but with her here, it seemed to shrink back at her brilliance.

Bolin closed his eyes, worried that if he doesn’t, he might just lose himself staring into her eyes. So close. What was only seconds felt like ages before Bolin felt Korra’s careful breath against his cheek. So close. He resisted the urge to bite his lip.

With a shaky smile, he quipped, “H— hi, Korra. It feels so nice to be close friends with you.” How he could still manage a joke right now is beyond him, especially when earlier they had already accidentally kissed and even that nearly sent him into cardiac arrest. Korra’s hushed laughter at the joke made his shoulders relax just a little, before her next words made him tense up anew.

“Can I kiss you?”

Bolin’s been hit by a heavy rock to the chest before, but all his training built up his resistance over time. But this… this was a hit to his heart. His breath hitched, unbidden, and he braved one eye open to look at… exactly how close she was. Much too close.

“Korra, I—“

“Can I at least touch you?”

“Korra—“

She reached tentative fingers into his jet black hair, and the small shiver that shot down his spine made his mouth run dry. That was just a hair-touch! His body is betraying him! She’ll definitely see the effect she has on him if she just looked down. Please don’t look down. Please don’t look down.

“Is this okay?”

“Y-yes,” His mind screamed. But then Korra stopped touching his hair.

“Yeah?” She asked.

Bolin brought up a hand tentatively just to facepalm. “I— I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Yes you did.”

“I’m such an idiot,” he mumbled.

“You are,” she agreed.

Bolin raised a brow at her. “Hey!”

Korra chuckled, which served to take away some more of the tight tension in his body. He was still on guard, though, making small steps backward to put some distance between them. But Korra easily caught on to what he was doing. She inhaled deeply and steeled her face into an unreadable expression. Oh no, no.

“If you didn’t want me to be here then maybe you should have just told me! God, I feel like an idiot!” She groaned, shoving past him to get to the door. No, no, Bolin thought. He has to fix this.

“Korra wait—!” He exclaimed, wrapping his fingers around her wrist just before she reached the doorknob.

“What?” She snapped, and when she whirled her head towards him, he saw her eyes were watering. Oh, Korra.

“I— can we just talk about it first? Yeah?”

“What’s there to talk about?! When you obviously don’t want me here!”

“Korra, listen— just listen to me.” He pleaded, ignoring his brain’s call to be careful when touching her. That was always a slippery slope. Especially now when they’re in a room together, about to discuss a five-year-old pact Korra never forgot about. “Come here.” He said, loosening his grip on her wrist and holding her hand. He tugged her closer to his bed and settled on the floor in front of her when she finally sat down on his covers.

Bolin took a deep breath. “First of all, I missed you, too, in case that part wasn’t clear. What with all the… you know, this going on. Heh. And second of all, well, I didn’t really…”

Oh man. This was so hard. Korra stared at him, waiting for his answer.

Bolin cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head and shifting his gaze away. “I didn’t really want our first time to be just here. In my dorm room. You deserve something special, you know! It’s just all a surprise, is all.”

A beat. “So you do want to have sex with me?”

Oh.

Well. He walked into that one.

Bolin swallowed and his answer came in a squeak. “Y—yes.”

Korra bit her lip and it took everything in Bolin’s body not to physically react to that. He remembered the accidental smack from earlier, how soft her lips were.

“I don’t really care where we are.” She finally said, settling on the floor, too, in the space between him and the bed. “As long as I’m with you.”

Fuck. “T—thank you, Korra. I appreciate that.”

“So… do you want to do it?” She pressed, moving an inch closer on her hands and knees. This time it was his turn to bite his lip.

He turned the offer around in his head, willing his heart and… nether regions to calm down. If he did this, there was no going back. Something would change and it will never be the same between them. What he couldn’t figure out was whether or not that was a bad thing.

He finally looked at her, really looked at her. “I’m not going to wiggle out of this one, aren’t I?”

“Unfortunately, no,” she said with a cheeky grin.

Sighing, he replied. “Alright, then, oh Miss Avatar, I am your willing participant. But please, do come back to bed. It’s much more comfy there.”

Korra smiled a bright smile, happily settling on his bed. He followed after her, all too aware of her proximity now. She didn’t seem to be as nervous as he was, which made sense to him because even though he knew she didn’t expect him to, he had already put himself under the pressure of making this feel good for her.

“Alright so what now?” She enquired, bright blue eyes glinting with mischief and… something else. Bolin tried to think. One of them had to be level-headed around here, which was rapidly becoming hard to do when his body was already heating up at the prospect of the pact.

He stretched his legs out and patted his lap. “Sit on me.” He said, and the resulting flush on Korra’s face made him swallow. Doing great so far, Bolin, doing great.

She followed his command, sitting just a hair’s breadth away from where he was already at half-mast. Bolin tentatively put his hands on either side of her thighs, silent watchful stare asking for her permission. She placed two hands on his shoulder before nodding, prompting Bolin to slide her closer and fit her against his chest so she was sitting directly on top of his groin. His next exhales became hotter, as he pressed his forehead against her chin. She too was affected by his closeness, her thighs clenching ever so slightly, almost imperceptible.

“Korra, if we do this, I want you to tell me exactly when I’m making you feel uncomfortable, okay? If you tell me to stop, I will, immediately.” He assured, absently drawing circles on her thighs. She nodded, adjusting herself on his lap. He hissed when she did and she looked at him in a panic.

“Oh, no. Are you okay?”

With his voice strained, he replied, “I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just I’m very hard right now.”

They both fell silent enough that they could hear each other breathe. Slowly, tentatively, Bolin saw Korra move her hips again, grinding down his erection. His grip on her thigh tightened as he groaned. “Korra.”

“Yes?” But she kept going, slowly and then with more confidence, causing Bolin’s breath to escape him in hot bursts against her neck.

“Korra— s—slow down,” he pleaded in jagged breaths. He wanted this so bad but it was moving too fast. He placed his hand on her hips so he could manually stop her and Korra gave a whimper when he did. The sound made his cock twitch. He took a deep breath to steady himself before looking up at her face. She was flushed, no doubt the same way he was. He wanted this to last a bit longer, a bit more. If this was going to be just the fulfillment of a pact and nothing else then he was going to draw it out and worship her and then burn this memory in his mind if this was the first and last time he was going to do this.

“Okay, just an update,” he said, breathing labored. “So, I’m hard as a rock under there and you’re… much more, uh, willing than I thought you were going to be. You know, for a virgin.”

Korra crossed her arms, shooting him a challenging glare. “For a virgin.”

“For a virg— yes. That’s not a bad thing, though! It’s just— I want to make this feel good for you. You deserve it.” If his voice quieted at that last sentence, he didn’t notice. He smoothed his hands up to the small of her back, pressing a thumb against the part of her waist he knew was ticklish. A bubble of laughter escaped her lips and before he knew it, she was kissing him.

Korra.

Korra was kissing him.

It was messy. She was inexperienced after all. But so was he. So it was a strange mix of wet, slippery, and teethy but neither of them cared. They just kept kissing until it felt right, and after Bolin found tilting his head a little was easier for both of them, he continued to kiss her fervently. Her arms snaked back around his neck as her chest pressed close to his. He groaned at the contact, pushing his tongue past the seam of her lips to taste her. She’d had something to drink before coming here, something fruity. Bolin smiled against her lips, savoring the taste and feel of her. Soon, she was grinding down his cock again, breaking apart for air and throwing her head back when Bolin latched onto her neck to mark her with fiery hot kisses.

“Bolin,” she sighed to the room and he pulled her closer at the sound.

Maybe he’d died. That’s right; he’d died and even in heaven was tormented by the delicious feeling of having Korra so close, tasting her, feeling her, loving her. That last part he didn’t think he’d say but it was there. He did love her. Even before all this began. He still loves her.

She shuddered when he started suckling on the skin of her neck, urged by a need to mark her in some way. To put something on her body that reminded them both what had transpired here. His wandering hands reached underneath her tight blue tank, the one she loved to wear so much ever since she grew those muscles he loved so much. He pressed his mouth on top of her tank where he knew underneath sat her breasts and she trembled some more, moaning in heated pants. Bolin smoothed his hands up her back, making sure to touch her feverish skin as he peeled the tank off of her and let go of her clothed breasts. He chucked it somewhere in the room, forgotten momentarily, to pay attention to her sarashi wraps next, the only barrier between him and his prize.

Korra was looked almost shy as he drank the sight of her, topless, and he knew this was because she had not been naked with anyone before. Bolin’s heart swelled at the thought of being the first to see her like this, his forever best friend and the now, as ever, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He kissed her cheek when the last of the wraps finally fell to the floor. “Good?” He asked, pressing the word against her chest where he planted a small kiss.

Korra swallowed and then muttered, “Yeah.”

“Tell me how you feel.” He asked almost automatically, and he was struck with how smooth and even his voice was. He’d thought he would be too anxious for this but when it came down to it, he was more sure about this than he ever was in any other thing in his life.

Korra’s fingers found the curls on the back of his head before she pressed her forehead against his for another passionate kiss. Breaking away momentarily, she whispered, “I’m feeling good.”

“Good,” he replied, grinning and slowly tracing her nipples, budded now and very eager. Her moan was long and drawn out when he finally took one of her nipples in his mouth, languidly caressing the other one with his hand.

“Oh, Bolin,” she hummed, bucking her hips against his straining cock. He gripped her hips at the contact, grinding her down himself. It was too much, much too much, but his brain still screamed for more. He nipped at her breast and sucked like it was his last meal. And when he licked from one breast to another with his tongue flat against her skin, Korra’s fingers tightened in his hair, hard enough to hurt — he didn’t care. On her chest he left marks, too, and she was only too happy to have them.

Bleary-eyed, he lifted his head up to meet her eyes again, one hand still showering attention to one of her breasts. “You look so beautiful.” He breathed out, kissing the corner of her lips. “And you feel so good.”

Korra looked at him in a daze, too, breath hot and fast against his face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

And despite their current steamy interaction, they couldn’t help but laugh. There was something so easy about this whole thing, something that went beyond sex and Bolin knew it was their friendship, but he also knew it was about love. His love. He could not say the same for Korra.

“Feeling good?” He finally said, burying his face in between her breasts and exhaling. If she moved unceremoniously now, he might just paint his sweatpants white on the spot. That small moment of laughter seemed much more effective in tipping him over the edge than the half hour they already spent on kissing and fondling.

You’ve got it bad, Bolin. So bad.

Korra nodded, reaching a hand down into her pants before Bolin could think.

Fuck, this was real. It’s getting very real now.

Wordlessly, he watched intently as she slid a hand into her waistband. He drew circles on her clothed thighs, his chest feeling tight and his cock feeling ready to burst. Fuck, no. No. Not now.

Before he could do anything about it, he spilled into his sweatpants the exact moment Korra moaned so deliciously as her fingers slipped inside her pussy. No, he’d ruined it. Out of shame, he bit his lip and thrust small upward strokes despite himself. He couldn’t control it. It was too much. Korra stopped when she noticed, slipping her finger out of her entrance and placing her hand back up on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, I— Korra, I ruined this.”

“Shh, it’s okay, Bolin. We have all night.”

“A—all night?”

“Well, if—if you want to, of course—“

Bolin was sure he’d stopped breathing at some point. And if he thought he’d been dead before, he was sure now that he really had died. There was no way any of this is real, no way Korra wanted to spend all night with him having…

He gulped. “But I already came.”

“You will again.” She said with a smile, climbing off of him to position herself on the other side of the bed, her legs falling open before him.

You will again, a statement hotter than it had any right to be. A statement that seemed to linger far longer even as she started to take off her pants beside him, still frozen in place at what she said.

Wait. Pants?

“Korra, are you sure?” His cock twitched again even in its flaccid state, highly interested in the way she was currently wiggling her hips out of her pants. When it was finally off, he just sat there, watching her legs fall open to reveal all of her. The air felt too thick, like the only way to breath was to swallow. Korra watched his Adam's apple bob consistently before taking her fingers slowly down and tracing between her folds. There was gathering wetness there and Bolin could see it, he couldn’t stop seeing it. He thought maybe he never will. The room was quiet enough that he could hear the way the slick coated her folds. After what felt like forever, she finally plunged a finger back inside and released a groan that was identical to his own. His cock was back and ready for more. And yet he sat there, patiently, cock painfully straining, transfixed by the way she was moving her fingers. In, out. In, out.

But then she stopped. And then she covered her face before releasing a disjointed sigh.

With furrowed brows, he placed a reassuring hand on the side of her thigh, growing increasingly worried when her disappointed whimpers increased.

“Hey, hey, Korra, are you okay?” In a flash, he was on the floor, kneeling beside her on the bed and kissing her sweaty forehead just because he could. “Talk to me.”

“This always happens.”

“What always happens?”

“I start off and I think I’m wet enough when I’m actually not.” This time she turned around, pressing her chest against the bed and burying her face into his pillow. It took every ounce of willpower in Bolin not to touch her in that moment. A beautiful, naked woman was in his bed. And not just any beautiful, naked woman, no, Korra.

“What can I do to help? I’m very helpful, you know. Do you want some tea? Or like, maybe a hug?”

Frustrated, she groaned some more.

“Okay, okay. I’m just going to, uh, get in bed with you here but I’m going to give you a little bit of space for now, alright? I’m here for you, Korra, really,” and he meant it with all his heart. More than she will ever know. “And besides,” he began, gently encasing them in his blanket and kissing her hair. “I pretty much finished waaay too early for this whole thing so I don’t want to judge you for your uh, drought.” He grimaced when she groaned at the word choice. “I meant your situation! Your situation! Oh, that’s not any better is it?”

A pause and Korra was chuckling into his pillow. After what seemed like forever, she turned around, pulling the blanket up to her chest to cover herself. With one hand, she pulled her ponytail out and stared at the ceiling.

“So.” Bolin said, half chuckling.

“So.” Korra responded in a small voice.

They stayed that way for a little while longer, under the cover together but never touching. Bolin hummed a tune as the seconds dragged on before Korra spoke again.

“Do you think I’m naïve, Bo?” She asked.

“What? No, of course not.” He responded all too quickly, worried as to where this is coming from. “Why would you say that?”

She turned to him and he propped himself up with his hand against his cheek. If he noticed how Korra eyes shifted to the way his biceps moved, he didn’t mention it. She took a deep breath. “Because I came here thinking I can do this. Only for me to… lose interest just when it was getting good.”

He’d read about this before somewhere, and he was pretty sure it didn’t expressly mean losing interest. “I don’t think that’s it.” He said, tentatively reaching a hand to stroke her hair. She looked at him, blue eyes meeting green, before shifting just a little bit closer so he could do what he wanted. Even her hair was soft.

“Then what is it?” She asked.

“I think you just need more… stimulation.”

She groaned again. “What more stimulation do I need? I’d already touched myself before coming here and it still wasn’t enough.”

His hand stilled. “You touched yourself? Before coming here?”

“Uhm, yeah.” She replied, making herself smaller.

“What did you think about?”

“What?”

He propped himself up on both arms now, angling himself just right so she could see both his arms flex. Her curious little eye flutter made him feel… sexy.

“What did you think about, Korra? Before you came here and decided to rock my world.”

“Pfft, rock your world. That’s two rock puns now, Bo,” she snickered. Bolin pouted.

“Hey that was a legitimate thing you did, grinding down on me like that.”

“Okay,” she conceded. He wanted to kiss her again. So he did. And she kissed him back with ease, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Well, I thought about this moment, really. I’ve actually been thinking about it since I— what are you doing?” She asked, watching Bolin leave her side to kneel in front of his bed.

“I have an idea. Just keep talking. You were saying?”

“Okay, well, so uhm, I’ve just been thinking about this moment since I moved in a week ago.” Just then, Bolin lifted the blanket off her feet and slid her gently sideways so her feet were dangling over the edge. He watched her swallow, watched as she lifted herself up gingerly to look at him.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

“Listening to your story.” He simply replied, hiking the blanket up just above her knee before planting a kiss there. “You were saying?”

“But th—that’s it,” she sighed when he ran his finger slowly on the inside of her thighs.

“Oh?” He made sure to breathe out the word against her thigh, letting his breath fan out against her skin. He watched as she threw her head back.

“Bolin, what—“

“Do you trust me?” His voice was much lower now and because of his earlier release, this time around he felt more in control. It helped that Korra was so pliant in his hands, so responsive even though he hasn’t even put his lips on her just yet. Good idea, he thought. “Tell me, Korra. Tell me you trust me?”

Bolin never really thought of himself as particularly… skilled in the art of oozing sex just by his words. But he felt now, maybe he was wrong, as he watched Korra nod eagerly. “I trust you,” she said, voice tight.

“Good girl,” he replied, almost unaware of it. “I’m going to eat your pussy out, okay? Now, it’s gonna feel weird but I read somewhere this helps with the dryness.”

Korra blushed again. “Do you have to bring it up again?” She said, irritated. Playfully, he nudged his nose against the downy curls of her sex, blowing air onto her folds. She yelped, clenching the blanket in a white-knuckled grip.

“I’ll bring it up when I want to.” He pressed, remembering that lesson in female anatomy he taught himself. “Tell me what you like, okay? If you don’t, I will stop.”

Bolin continued to run his nose in her downy curls but when she remained wordlessly panting, he lifted his head. She blearily stared at his face, a questioning look flashing on her face. “What—“

“Tell me what you like,” he insisted, pulling her legs closer and hooking it over his broad shoulders. The smell of her sex this close felt exhilarating, like he wanted to drown in it. “Won’t you, Korra?” He asked, licking a small stripe up against her folds with the tip of his tongue. She arched her back nearly off the bed, mewling and babbling.

“Korra, answer me.”

“Yes! Yes, I’ll— I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you, Bo. Please.”

“Please what?”

“P-please that, uhm, lick me again.”

Bolin was more than happy to oblige, settling ever closer, only ever closer, so close that he can press the flat of his tongue against her folds completely, licking very slowly from her entrance up to the little bud of nerves on top. Korra cursed, the first time he’d heard her do so. It was sinful. The way she just said fuck followed by his own name. Motivated, he pressed his face closer, continuing to lick, tasting her at each pass. His cock twitched with renewed interest and he ignored it only until he couldn’t, palming himself.

When he opened his eyes, he saw her watching, mouth agape and blue eyes glazed. Fuck. He wanted to stay here. In between her legs. Just eating her out. Forever. Eventually, she became antsy, and Bolin saw in her face she wanted to say something.

“Something on your mind, Korra?”

“I— p— please do the licking with something e— else…”

“Like?” He asked, almost innocently, even as his lips and chin glistened with her wetness. As if in suggestion, he probed at her opening with a thick finger.

“That! That’s—“

“Oh, this?” He asked, running his finger down her wet folds and then pushing it inside agonizingly slowly. Korra’s hips bucked into his hand but he steadied his finger, stopping and kissing her inner thigh. “Tell me, Korra. Tell me you want me to fuck you with my fingers.”

He was gone. Gone. All coherent thought replaced by giving her whatever it was she wanted.

“I— please f—fuck me with your fingers…”

With a pleased rumble from within his throat, he gently pulled his fingers in and out and as he sucked his own finger and watched her breathe much more heavily at the sight, they knew that she was finally wet enough.

Bolin slipped another finger on the next pass, testing how open she already was, and she welcomed him easily, just as he dove back in to flick her clit with his tongue. Korra wailed, hands flying up to his hair and fucking up into his face. Underneath, his cock was straining so hard but he didn’t care, palming mindlessly. Korra was coming or he was going to stay here until she did. Or maybe even after that just to lap her up.

“You like that? On your clit?” He asked, giving a flat lick that covered the entire bundle.

“Fuck, ah, yes, Bolin. Oh, yes.” He focused his attention on the bundle, following the tantalizing tug of her fingers in his hair. He groaned each time she did, and the vibration of the sound seemed to increase the intensity of her moans.

“Right there,” she babbled over and over again as he hit a spot inside her with his fingers. “Oh, just stay there, ah.”

Inspired by another naughty idea, Bolin lifted his head from her opening, breathing harshly against her sex. “Listen to me.” He began, kissing her thighs to get her attention. “I’m going to eat you out until you scream, until you come. And then when I drink you up, I’ll fuck you with my cock. Is that okay?”

“B—but, I’ve already come by then,” she looked concerned, but he’d read about this before. Multiple orgasms.

“You will again.”

She recognized the quip as her own and couldn’t help but crack a smile. But she still looked worried. “A—are you su—sure? What if I don’t c—come?”

“You will. I’ll make sure of it.” Without another word, he moved his fingers in and out of her at a much faster rate than before, all while swirling his tongue around her clit. Korra panted so harshly at his attentions, as though she was drowning in desire. Bolin already was. He wanted to drown in her cunt forever. It was not long after that that her thighs clamped on either side of his head. He could die here for all he cared. It’ll be a lovely death. Though cramped, he moaned into her pussy, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside her that made her gasp and moan loudly. If he was concerned about his neighbours before, he wasn’t now. Let them hear.

It didn’t take long for Korra to reach climax, her whole body trembling violently at the force of it. Between her clenched thighs, Bolin caught every last drop on his tongue, giving her folds a final kiss before finally standing back up.

She was a vision. Not even in his wildest wet dreams did he imagine how beautiful and utterly ruined Korra looked like on his own bed right now. Her hair haloed around her face and her mouth open, her lips swollen from how much she was biting them. The quick rise and fall of her chest made her breasts look all the more lovely, and her lax and shaking legs made his head spin.

I made Korra come. I, Bolin, made her come.

“C—come here, p—please, Bolin.” She reached her hand out weakly, and in an instant, Bolin was on her.

“So,” he kissed her cheek, positioning himself on top of her and pressing his erection between her legs. “How’d that feel?”

“So good. I thought you were a virgin.”

“I am. Well, sort of.”

Korra raised a brow.

“Well, I am a virgin. I’ve never gone all the way. But I’ve eaten pussy before.” But never like this, never this delicious, never this good, he wanted to say. Never you. “This… this felt different.” He admitted, which was not a lie. He hid in the crook of her neck. “Your pussy? Heaven.”

Korra chuckled. “Liar.”

“It’s true!” He chuckled with her, kissing up to her ear. Not knowing she was sensitive there, he felt her hips buck up again. He chuckled darkly. “Excited, aren’t we?”

She tried to protest but he was already sucking and kissing at her neck.

“Bolin,” she moaned, long and deep.

“This is the part,” kiss, “where I fuck you again,” kiss, “with my cock this time,” kiss, “tell me to stop and I will,” kiss, “I’ll do anything for you.”

It hurt his heart how much he meant that last part. He pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes searching. He did nothing else, waiting for her response. He didn’t even move, his arms having no problem holding him up. Korra stared at him for what felt like forever until he felt her wrapping her legs around his lower back. Bolin took a shuddering breath, closing his eyes to quell the irresistible urge to just thrust.

“Tell me,” he pleaded again. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Korra looked at him, panting softly against his lips. She kissed him. “Fuck me, Bolin.”

It was like a switch had been turned on in his brain, like her words wiped away every rational thought in his head so that all he could think about was going back into her wet heat. With hurried hands, he shucked his sweats off and pounced right back on top of her, loving how slick and open she was now to his stiff cock. Still, he pushed slowly, watching her face intently at each delicious inch that sank in. Satisfied, he made the final push to bottom out, the tight, wet heat around him nearly making him lose his mind. How would he ever exist after this? After experiencing Korra like this?

Bolin planted a wet kiss against her temple. “Is this okay?” He asked, pulling back slightly to slide back in gently. Korra’s legs around his lower back tightened and he grit his teeth so hard at the sensation.

“Yes. Yes,” she panted, bringing Bolin’s face closer and kissing him greedily. Slowly and then a little faster, Bolin pulled out and slid in until she was open enough to take all of him in each stroke. Each push inside made him see stars and it took everything in him not to blow his load right then and there. It was just too good.

“Korra,” he moaned against her lips, watching with half-lidded eyes as her breasts bounced with each thrust. “Fuck, Korra. You drive me insane.”

“Bolin,” she babbled his name over and over again. “Faster.”

“What was that?” He said through broken gasps.

“Faster!”

“What?”

“Faster! Please Bolin!” She clamped down on her bottom lip, staring intently into his eyes as he neared the delicious edge of his orgasm. He could feel she was close too, but he was determined for this to be about her. Only her.

“Come for me, Korra, please?” He muttered against her lips, capturing her in a bruising kiss. As the sinful sounds left her lips in staccato, Bolin continued on with his relentless pace, feeling her whole body shake as she neared her own orgasm.

“Yes, yes, yes, Bolin!” She all but shouted when she came, throwing her head back and arching her whole body underneath him. Shortly after he let go, too, seeing spots and hearing his own ragged rasps echo in his head. He bucked gently as he emptied in her, shivering when he was all spent. He collapsed on top of her, admiring the modest peak of one of her breasts, blissed out and too pleased to think about anything other than Korra. He kissed the side of her breast lazily, running a finger on her raised nipple. Korra flinched, feeling oversensitive.

When she didn’t say anything for a long time, Bolin grew worried. But when he lifted his head to look at her, her eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Is there any chance we can do that again?”

Bolin’s breath caught in his throat again. How could he ever deny her? He couldn’t even wiggle out of this silly pact. Grinning, he kissed her and his heart sang at how eagerly she kissed him back.

When they broke apart, he said, “Could you at least bring me flowers next time? A man wants romance too, you know.”

Korra laughed. “Sure thing.”

If you want to read it over on AO3, here’s the link. :D

#legend of korra #borra fanfiction #bolin #korr #bolin x korra #fanfiction #bolin smut #smut #no one asked for this #but here you go #join me in this pretty much dead ship lmao #idc #i love them both

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: The Confession {5}**

Chris Evans x Best Friend Reader

Warning: Cursing, Angst, PLENTY OF WORDS, Moderate NSFW, Moderate SMUT, DO NOT READ AT WORK

Words: 6.3k

Summary: Not this time.

Note: Thank you for reading lovelies! 😘😘

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Mildly Interactive***

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-Chris-

“You did what!”

Scott gaped at him as he sat on the couch in the backyard.

“You’re shitting me. You did not,” Scott continued. His shock was evident. He looked at him as if he’d said something even more surprising. Scott gulped down his beer and slammed it to the wood top of the table between them. Then he slid to the edge of the seat to gape at him some more.

“My God, stop it already!”

“Excuse me for being astounded that you actually told her.”

Crinkling his nose, he looked at Scott with his brow raised. “Actually told her? what does that mean?”

“Oh come on. Did you think I didn’t know that you’ve been in love with her for most of your life? Come on, Chris,” Scott finished fanning him off before he walked to the cooler to retrieve another beer.

“Wait, wait, hold the fuck up. you knew?”

“Yes, I knew. I knew, mom knew, Carly, Shanna—brother, this has been the worst kept secret.”

He groaned and dropped his head back, staring into the blue sky. It was a beautiful day. He heard Scott’s “humph” and looked to see him holding out a beer for him.

“Thanks,” he said as he took it, opened it, and drank half down.

“Wow. Why didn’t anyone say anything?”

“We all thought you would get it together eventually. We thought you’d both have this “duh” moment, and that would be it,” Scott explained.

He couldn’t believe his ears. His entire family knew how he felt; all these years, they knew and never let on. He could have laughed, but he was too on edge after everything. It had been two weeks since your talk, two weeks since he sat in your living room and told you everything—well, mostly everything. One week and you hadn’t called, stopped by, or texted. Nothing.

“I don’t know if I should have told her. I think I fucked up—bad.”

Scoot took a deep breath and sighed out before he took another swig of beer. When he lowered it, he didn’t speak. That made his panic and fears increase.

“What if I’ve ruined everything?” He grabbed his head and scraped his scalp.

“Why the hell did you wait so long?”

Springing to his feet, he paced around the couch. “I was scared. Have you seen the guys she’s dated? Jesus Christ, business tycoons that have billions of dollars and corporations, athletes that are built like no one’s business. All these guys are just—not me.” Voicing one of his fears felt more difficult than any of the stunts he’d done in his career. This was something he’d thought about for years, and it always gave him anxiety and stress.

“Are you serious right now?” Scott scoffed and shook his head. “You’re a world-famous movie star. You’re Captain fucking America! Even then, you know none of that matters to her. It never has. What’s the real reason.”

Dropping back into the couch with a loud groan, he finished his beer in one raise. Sitting with the words in his head, he was reluctant to voice them. If he said them out loud, then they’d be facts, irrefutable facts.

“Spit it out!”

“She deserves better,” he blurted out before he brought his face to his palms and continued. “She’s seen everything Scott, all my--.”

“Whoring ways?” He could hear the amusement in Scott’s voice.

“Not funny.” His voice was impassive.

“It is—from the outside looking in, hilarious.”

He sprang to his feet again and paced back and forth. “She’s seen the women. She knows how I’ve treated them. She knows my Dorian Grey, and you know my Dorian Grey is seriously ugly.” As he spoke, every dirty thing he’d done over the years flashed through his head, the women, the experiences, the cheating, everything.

“Ah, I see. You’re afraid she knows too much and knows you too well to see you any other way than a complete male gigolo out for sex.”

Turning around to give Scott another warning look, he rolled his eyes. “You’re still not funny.”

Scott chuckled and leaned back. “I totally am.”

“She deserves the world, Scott,” he began rubbing the back of his neck as he sat at the edge of the couch. “I’m sure I fall short,” he finished in a crestfallen tone. There it was.

A few moments of silence passed before Scott spoke again. “Wow. Wait, you’re being serious? You really think this?” When he didn’t answer, Scott continued. “Chris, we want the person we end up with to know everything about us. We want them to understand we’re not perfect, that we’re human and want to be better with them, for them.”

When he didn’t look up, he heard Scott’s footsteps before he dropped on the couch beside him. “Listen to me. You want her to have seen your ugly so she can weigh it with your good. Look, I’m your brother, and yeah, your ugly is ugly, but you’re a good guy. Shit, you’re the best man I know, next to dad. Y/N has seen it since we were kids.”

He knew he should have known this, but when it came to you, it was a different case.

“I was always afraid to hurt her. I was scared I’d fuck it up somehow, and because of it, fuck us up,” he confessed.

“So you just kept quiet about it. I’ve always known you were in love with her. I just knew one day it would come out naturally, and the two of you would fall together like natural clockwork. You weren’t supposed to wait until she had a fiancé, you jackass!”

Groaning again, he nodded. “I know, fuck, I know.”

“What were you expecting?”

What was he expecting? He’d asked himself this question since that ill-fated night he texted you the words. He hadn’t come up with an adequate response.

“I don’t know. I was drunk when I did it, drunk and wallowing,” he began. He thought back to the night in your living room then straightened up. “When I looked in her eyes as I said it, Scott, there was something there. I saw it.”

“What’d you see?”

The words teased his tongue as they’d teased his mind the entire week. He hadn’t said them out loud because what if he was wrong. The more he thought back to the look in your eyes, the more he knew that he couldn’t have been wrong.

“She has to love me too. Right?” Looking at Scott for confirmation, he was met with an unsure look.

“Let’s say she did. What do you expect to happen?”

Crinkling his nose again, he gave Scott a crazy look. “What? Obviously, call off the wedding so we can be together for real,” he plainly declared.

“Have you thought that through? What if right now, with the idea of her being married off to someone not you is playing with you, making you feel like you want this relationship? What if this is the draw of what you can’t have?” He’d thought about this long ago but dismissed it before it came up again. He didn’t feel like that was it.

“I’m not like that,” he professed.

“How do you know? This is the first time you’re in this situation,” Scott countered.

“Scott. It’s Y/N.” That was all he felt he had to say.

“Exactly. I know another reason why you held on to this for so long was because you were afraid of this. You were afraid that once you got what you thought you wanted, you wouldn’t want it anymore, and then it would have been too late. How do you know?”

Bringing himself back to the night it all became clear for him he clued Scott in. “I was sitting there thinking about her, and I knew Scott. I knew.”

Scott nodded and took his words in.

“Okay.”

“I don’t want her because I can’t have her now. It’s not because I’m scared of losing her to someone else. I’m not nearly as self-centered and narcissistic enough for that. I want her because—because I love her,” he responded with certitude. He felt this in his bones.

“Okay.”

“We used to talk every day, several times a day, all day even. I haven’t spoken to her since that night at her place. She won’t answer my calls or messages.” It hurt to say. It hurt a hell of a lot more than he ever imagined it would. It felt like rejection, a rejection he had no experience with that was made worse because it was you.

“She needs time, Chris. You just dropped the mother of all bombs on her for crying out loud. It’s not just any bomb; it’s an atomic bomb that complicates her life. She has a fiancé. She planned a wedding, one that is happening in six weeks,” Scott reasoned.

He knew all of this, and he’d even tried to drill it into his own head, but it never stuck.

“Give her some time to get her thoughts and feelings in order,” Scott finished.

He looked down at his entwined fingers and sighed. “I feel like I’m losing my shit just waiting around. I feel like I’m waiting on a judge to decide the rest of my life,” he spoke. The silence stretched between them, and his anxiety reached its peak.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I fucked everything up, Scott.”

~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

“I love you, Y/N. I love everything about you.”

Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.

“I love how you are my family.”

Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.

“You’re my home, always have been. I’m in love with you.”

Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.

“The sight of you together kills me.”

Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.

“I want you, Y/N. I always have. That hasn’t changed since we were sixteen, and it will never change. I love you.”

Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.

“I can’t lose you.”

Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.

“Y/N!”

The scent of roses, lilies, and cedar filled your nostrils and bringing with it your current reality. You took a deep breath, but one wasn’t enough. You took several more. It had been a hard week. You should have still been floating on could nine, and part of you was, but it was an exceedingly small part. The rest of you was in suspended animation tangled with stress, anxiety, and confusion. When you got like that, the only thing that seemed to help was work.

However, no matter how much work you did, you didn’t forget. You didn’t forget the words he said to you, didn’t forget the look in his eyes as he crowded you in the kitchen. Didn’t forget the way his fingers on you felt exponentially different than they had before. You couldn’t forget how your skin tingled, or how you didn’t move right away. When you got there, you blamed it on shock and nothing else.

“Y/N. Do you need help?”

Pressing your forehead on the cold glass, you took your final breathes and plastered a smile on your face before you walked out of the dressing room. As soon as you did, everyone gasped and fawned all over you. After stepping onto the pedestal, you looked at your reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror and nearly toppled over. You wore the wedding dress you’d picked out two months ago that was now half altered. The A-line ballgown was massive but gorgeous. You loved how it made you look as if you had no waist and plenty of hips, and not to mention the bustline did wonders for your breasts.

“My god, Y/N, you look incredible,” your mother sighed out as she clasped your hand. You could see the unshed tears in her eyes. She’d dreamed of this day probably since the day you were born. Every mother plans her daughter’s wedding in her head the moment she takes her first steps. She’d been with you through this entire process lending you strength and guidance.

“Thank you, mama.” You looked at yourself again and took another deep breath to let it out in a rush.

“Don’t like it anymore?” The question belonged to Jaxon’s mother, Anita. Smiling, you looked at her.

“No, I still like it.”

“Jaxon said when he came in the other day, he was tempted to look at it before he paid for it,” Anita informed.

Turning to her fully, you cocked your head to the right. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Calm down, Y/N. He didn’t look. The superstition is intact,” Anita remarked.

“No, no. Not about him seeing it. He did what?”

Anita stopped smiling and gave you a confused look before she continued. “He paid for it,” she said matter of factly like it was no big deal. The bubble of anger you felt raise within you rose so quickly smoke nearly shot through your ears.

“What’s the problem? My son makes a lot of money. He has influence and the means to do what he pleases. You know that is one of the reasons you agreed to this—expedited wedding,” Anita slid in.

“Excuse me?” You took a step forward, forgetting you were on a pedestal.”

“Y/N,” your mother cautioned making you stop in your tracks and bite back the insult you were going to return back to her.

“Jaxon has assured me it’s not because you’re pregnant, so it leaves this. No?”

You had the sudden image of leaping off the pedestal right on top of her and wrapping your hands around her neck.

“Anita,” your mother began stepping toward her. “I know we don’t know each other well, but you will soon come to realize that I go to bat for my baby with anyone who dares disrespect her. Listen here, your son asked her to marry him, not the other way around. You’ll do well to remember that when you speak to her and remember that it’s a good thing when a man finds a wife—that is if they don’t cheat and find another younger one.”

Your jaw dropped. She took - it - there. Your mother didn’t shrink back or cower; she held her head high and puffed out her chest. You pressed your lips together, pleased at the reminder that you were her daughter. Anita had a high and mighty look on her face before she slinked away to the seats. Once there, she sat.

“Let’s also remember that love is why we’re all here, Jaxon’s and Y/N’s for each other,” your mother finished. When Anita didn’t speak again, your mother turned back to you and gave you a nod.

“Let’s carry on.”

Soon after, your sister Sharice arrived with your niece Adella along with your aunts Florence and SherryAnne. Once they arrived, the tone of the parlor drastically changed. They laughed, joked and chatted as if they didn’t care where they were. You didn’t mind; it distracted you. For the remainder of the appointment, the seamstress worked her magic pinning, measuring, and altering according to your specifications. You always had a glass of champagne in one hand and your phone in the other. Just because the majority of the day was dedicated to this didn’t mean you wouldn’t work.

Halfway through, Anita made an excuse to leave. Before she left, she pulled you in to a hug and kiss while making you promise to make it to the mayor’s mansion for dinner one night during the week. Reluctantly you agreed, and she pranced out of the parlor as if she hadn’t disrespected you in a significant way.

Once she’d left, you dropped onto the couch with all the flounce of the dress around you.

“Ignore her. She’s just mad her precious only son puts you above her. She’s jealous,” Sharice said.

“Jealous or not she should get the fuck over it. she purposely told me about Jaxon buying the dress. He’s told her about how I act about him doing things like this.”

You were angry and had every intention of ripping him a new asshole for doing what he did plus telling his mother something that was between the two of you.

“Your man is well off, enjoy it. You’re going to be married, what’s his will be yours,” your aunt SherryAnne explained.

“I understand that Aunt Sherry, I get it. That does not mean he can throw his money at me. I’ve worked hard for everything I have, and yeah, I don’t have millions or a mother who is a Mayor that comes with connections and pomp, but I sure as hell have my own. We talked about the dress. I said I was going to pay for it. He undermined me and did it behind my back. He didn’t even tell me,” you ranted.

“Maybe he doesn’t know how serious you are about it,” your mother hypothesized.

Rolling your eyes, you knocked back the remainder of the champagne and held out your hands, a silent plea for them to help you up. As they did, you all giggled.

“Are you sure you want this dress?”

“Yes. Don’t worry; I’ve already eyed the reception dress,” you announced as you walked back to the dressing room to change back into your clothes.

Ten minutes later, you reemerged dressed and ready to go. The group of you walked out to the sidewalk and said your goodbyes. When they all walked away, your mother turned to you and studied your face before she gently caressed your cheek.

“Are you alright, baby girl?”

Sighing you thought if you should unburden yourself, but the second you thought to, you decided against it. What was the purpose?

“Yeah, I’m fine, just tired.”

She nodded and pulled you in for a hug. “Maybe go hang out with Chris for a few hours. He always works magic with ironing you out.”

The sound of his name filled you with so many conflicting emotions that you knew he was the last person you needed to see. When she pulled back, she kissed your forehead and tapped your cheek before she walked to her car. Waving goodbye, you watched her car drive off. Checking your watch, you saw you had fifteen minutes to meet Jaxon at the market as you’d promised. After the events at the parlor, that was the last thing you wanted to do. Part of you didn’t trust yourself well enough not to blow up at him in the middle of the produce department. Resigning yourself to your fate, you hailed a taxi and got on your way.

Thanks to traffic, by the time you got to Whole Foods, you were running a little late. As you got out of the taxi, you saw Jaxon standing outside talking on your phone. You took a deep breath and approached him. When he saw you coming, his smile widened as he held his hand out for you. Deciding against taking it, you held onto your purse with the hand he reached for instead. Not picking up your cue, he leaned in to kiss you, but you turned your cheek and continued walking into the store.

Jaxon tried to wrap up his conversation, but after a few minutes, you could tell he was being roped into an even longer dialogue. Pushing the cart through the aisles, you placed items in while he trailed behind you. When he put his hand on your hip, you pushed forward, breaking the contact. Every time he tried to stop you from moving, you didn’t allow it.

After almost ten minutes of this, Jaxon abruptly ended his call. “Okay I’m done, they’re gone. It’s just you now. Tell me how was the dress fitting,” he began wrapping his arms around you, making you face him.

“Call them back. I’m fine. I don’t need your attention,” you said, pulling from him and walking ahead.

“You don’t—what?” His hurried footsteps echoed behind you before he was pulling you back to him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lied.

“Bullshit. I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s wrong. What did I do?”

“Interesting you know you did something,” you slid in before walking away again.

“Come on, Y/N, don’t play games. If I fucked up tell me what I did so I can make it right.”

“How? By throwing your money around some more?”

The way he looked at you said he knew what this was about. When he opened his mouth to no doubt explain it away and brush it under the rug, you walked away yet again. Turning down another aisle, you looked at the products as you passed them, trying to remember just what you had on your list. When you got halfway down the aisle, Jaxon fell into step with you.

“Let me explain,” he began before you cut him off.

“Explain how you undermined me and went behind my back to do something you knew I wouldn’t want? Explain that?” The impatient look on your face only grew to one of annoyance.

“Baby, it wasn’t like that.”

“This is not the place to talk about this. Let’s just get this over with and get out of here,” you suggested while putting products into the cart.

Before Jaxon could speak again, you heard a familiar voice call your name. Your back stiffened.

“Chris, my man,” Jaxon began.

“How you doing?”

“Good, me and the soon to be Mrs just getting some groceries for dinner,” Jaxon informed. Slowly you turned to face him. He wore a low tipped baseball hat, his signature incognito look. It was stupid. You’d told him before that it was his beard that got him recognized.

“Hey, DeeDee,” Chris said. You nearly snorted out loud hearing your nickname.

“Hi.” Again it was barely above a whisper.

“How are you?”

“Great--I mean good--fine,” you stuttered.

Silence fell between the three of you, an awkward silence.

“So come over for dinner tonight, Chris,” Jaxon petitioned. Your head snapped to him, confused how he’d deduced that you being angry at him meant to invite a third party to dinner so you couldn’t talk. The man was nuts.

“Uh—are you sure? I don’t want to impose,” Chris began before Jaxon cut him off.

“Nah, no imposition, right babe. Any best friend of my other half is a best friend of mine. Plus, I’m sure you guys would love the time together. I know the planning of the wedding is keeping this one busy, so yeah, we’re sure,” Jaxon monologued.

Another thing you hated was him talking for you. He’d toned it down over the months, but every now and then, it would spark up. Chris was looking at you as if he was waiting for your final word. He knew how you hated being spoken for. While you wanted to tell him that tonight wasn’t the night the puppy dog look in his eyes broke your heart. Sighing, you nodded.

“Come to dinner. You gotta eat right.”

“Okay. Dinner. Your place?”

“No, we’re at mine tonight,” Jaxon corrected. “Don’t worry, in a few weeks we’ll have it together in the new house,” Jaxon finished.

“Uh, we should go if there is any hope of actually having dinner ready,” you voiced, turning away from both men and walking away toward the checkout. This was going to be a long night, you thought to yourself.

When you got back to Jaxon’s place, the argument that was had went on for nearly an hour. It was really one-sided. He listened to your gripes, apologized, and promised to check himself when he felt the urge to spoil you. The way he didn’t even put up a fight made you feel like he wasn’t listening to what you said or considering it in a real way. He said all the right things, but he’d done that before only to flip and do the offense again.

You went your way to the bedroom, and he went his to the kitchen, and that was where you remained for the next forty or so minutes. You needed the time to cool down. You knew you’d grown up differently and knew you two had different ideas of gender roles, but you didn’t think it was a major discrepancy or too much that you couldn’t work through it. This recent move had you wondering if maybe it was something that couldn’t be worked on.

As you stared at yourself in the walk-in closet, you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose. You could feel your migraine and wanted to do nothing but sink into a hot bath with a cup of lavender tea. One man was giving you a headache from his lack of care about what mattered to you and the other from his overabundance of caring at the wrong time.

You felt arms wrap around your midsection, which jarred your eyes open. For some reason, you expected to see Chris.

“I’m sorry, really, really sorry. You can’t be mad at me anymore. I can’t take it. You know how I feel about leaving things unspoken and holding on to slights. Things like that can seriously hurt a relationship.”

You knew he was reminiscing on his parents. Their fairytale marriage fell apart because of one too many unspoken things and slights that created caters between them that turned into separate bedrooms and his father’s affairs. Sighing, you dropped your head back onto his chest, allowing him to kiss your bare shoulder.

“Forgive me?”

You remained silent and just stared at him through the mirror. His hand moved from your belly to your pelvis, where he raked up your skirt.

“What’re you doing?”

“Sssh,” Jaxon softly lulled, continuing what he was doing until his fingers were softly scratching a path on your inner thigh in an upward motion. “Let me make it up to you.”

“How?”

“By taking that migraine,” Jaxon answered before his fingers slid underneath the material of your underwear to rub against your sex. Groaning, you attempted to move, but he kept you where you were by pinching your clit. Sucking in a breath, you locked eyes with him.

“Let me do all the work, darlin’.”

Once the words were spoken, Jaxon wasted no time with teasing. He intently circled your clit in tight, quick motions. You leaned against him, sighing out, quickly getting used to how good it felt. Every few seconds, he changed the direction he swirled his finger and the speed of which he did it. After only a few minutes, you were close. With your eyes closed, your moans and pants echoed in the closet as Jaxon’s free hand held you tightly at your hip. You felt his finger leave you, which made your eyes flutter open to see him sucking it clean. In the same breath, Jaxon stepped before you then dropped to his knees.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated before he lifted one of your legs and draped it over his shoulder and kissed your bud.

You groaned and dropped your head back and focused on the pleasure he was giving. Once your eyes closed, the face you saw was not that of your fiancé, the man on his knees before you giving you pleasure. It was Chris’s. You saw him as if he stood right before you. He was watching you, his eyes boring into you, looking deeper into you than anyone had ever seen—just him. You gasped and held onto Jaxon’s head feeling your orgasm get closer and closer. Still, Chris in your mind, stared. It was as if he was taunting you, silently asking if this was what you wanted if Jaxon was doing it for you.

Feeling the pressure of Jaxon’s suck increase, you whimpered and began bucking your hips riding his face. The slurps echoed in the closet, and Chris’s stare intensified. The blue in his eyes beckoned to you, spoke to you, told you that you were making a mistake and that you should stop pretending. When you felt your orgasm whip through you, you felt an urge stronger than any you’d ever felt before to scream his name—Chris’s name. Biting your tongue, you rode the wave until you shook, and your knees buckled. As you fell to the floor, Jaxon’s arms caught you.

“I got you, sweetheart.”

When you opened your eyes, you saw Chris’s face and not Jaxon’s, and that was what fueled your actions.

“Make love to me,” you whined while trying to remove his pants.

Jaxon didn’t protest, he obliged and quickly undid his pants to free himself from his undid zipper. When he slid into your slickened heat, neither of you went slowly. There was a time to take your time, and this wasn’t it. Jaxon moved your body with the strength he possesed and fucked you with frenzied thrusts. It was what you needed to unsee Chris's face, to push aside the unrecognizable desire you felt for your best friend. The desire wasn’t only for him, though.

Feeling the power of Jaxon inside of you, you knew it was him you were making love to, you knew it was him your body was reacting to, but you also knew Chris was also causing some reaction. Planting your feet onto the floor, you sped your movements, not wanting the ability to think properly for the next however long. You’d worry about what this all meant later—much later.

~~~~~~

-Chris-

He hated it here. At your place, he saw pieces of your life with him, but here he saw the other pieces that put together the full picture. There were framed photos everywhere, along with boxes that Jaxon explained away, stating you were in the process of moving into your new house—together. It was a painful thought, one he tried to push to the back of his mind. This was the first time he’d been here. He was always able to get himself out of coming by, but tonight it seemed like his luck had run out.

When they made it to Jaxon’s mancave, he saw accolades, accomplishments, pictures galore of all the influential people he knew, and even awards. It all presented like he was a good guy. It only made him want to hate Jaxon even more, but he hadn’t mistreated you in the time you’d been together. He couldn’t remember a time you came to him crying about something he’d done or how he’d hurt you. There was no representation of his bad character. He had no reason to hate him, none but one—you. This man had you.

When he first walked in, he could smell him on you. You didn’t smell like your usual self, and that told him all he didn’t need to know. From then he had to pretend that the sound of his voice didn’t make him sick, that the pictures of how happy you were together didn’t boil his blood and the thought of you in his kitchen cooking for him night after night didn’t give him the strongest bout of jealousy he’d ever felt. He was an actor, but he doubted he was playing his part well tonight.

“Dinner!”

The two of them made their way back to the dining room to see you’d filled the table with the food.

“Smells amazing, baby.” Jaxon wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek.

“Let’s eat,” you rushed out, breaking contact with Jaxon to get to your seat, a seat he pulled out. He nearly vomited in his mouth.

Dinner was awkward and painful. He expected it to be, but it was increasingly so. Jaxon kept a hand on you at all times; he could see his grip on your bare thigh through the glass dining table. As he spoke about everything under the sun, he noticed you looked distracted. Every now and then, your eyes met and lingered before you looked away with a guilty look in yours. He wondered what you were thinking, what you were feeling. Every time he tried to read your body language, it told him nothing, but you were tense. Was it the dinner, or was it something else besides what he’d told you?

Like clockwork, every few minutes, Jaxon found a way to make even more contact with you than his hand placed on your thigh. He’d either lean into you to kiss your forehead or an exposed shoulder or even pull you in for a kiss. He could see the tension in you increase every time Jaxon attempted affection. All the while he sat there watching the two of you, he knew what he felt and why he felt it, but it didn’t make it any easier to handle. It broke him.

“So you know we’re moving, the move is happening in a little while. Can we count you in to help?”

“Jax, god, we have the moving people for that,” you began.

“Yeah, but you even said you didn’t want them moving everything. I’m talking about those things,” Jaxon clarified.

“No, Chris is busy. He’s not here to be at our beck and call. He has a family to spend time with.”

“I thought as your man of honor; he’d want to help out,” Jaxon continued.

“Man of honor?”

You slapped your forehead and closed your eyes.

“You hadn’t told him? She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” He looked at you and waited for you to explain.

“I was—it’s nothing.”

“No, it’s something. What?”

You sighed and finished your glass of wine before continuing. “I was going to ask you to be my man of honor the next time you were in town. Then—things—yeah,” you trailed off.

His heart sank. You wanted him to stand beside you over your sister or even all your friends.

“It was stupid,” you continued.

“You don’t want it anymore?”

“What?”

“Would you rather someone else do it?”

Your eyes locked, and he was able to read you clearly for the first time in weeks.

“No, I want you. Only you,” you whispered. It felt like you meant something else.

“So whaddya say?” Jaxon’s voice broke the moment.

“Uh, let me check some things, and I’ll get back to you,” he said, barely above a whisper as he avoided your eyes. This night had just gotten one hundred times worse.

Once dinner was finished, Jaxon retreated to his office to take an urgent call, which left him to help you with the dishes. When he walked into the kitchen with the last of the dishes, you were finishing loading the dishwasher.

“Dinner was great,” he professed.

“Thanks, you whispered.

He stood beside you in silence for a few moments. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he began.

“Not avoiding. Busy.”

He scoffed. “We’ve both been busy before and still managed to talk all day. You’ve been avoiding me. Why?”

“Chris, I have a lot going on with work and this wedding.”

“So cancel the wedding.”

Your head snapped to him so fast he nearly laughed out loud.

“What?!”

“You heard me. Cancel the wedding,” he repeated.

“Why the hell would I do that?

“Because I love you and you love me.”

You rolled your eyes and looked back to the dishes. “Of course, I love you. you’re my best friend.”

“You’re in love with me,” he flat out said, not caring if anyone heard.

“Chris. Stop. I love Jaxon. We’re getting married in six weeks.

“Are you in love with him? You and I both know there is a difference. I don’t think you are,” he cockily said though he didn’t feel so confidant in his declaration.

“Yes, I am,” you answered. Again, his heart sank.

“And me?”

You looked at him again, and he saw the conflict in your eyes. There should be no conflict where resolution resides, he thought before he took a step to you, closing the distance between you.

“Y/N, come on,” he pleaded before you took a baby step back.

“This is not the place or time. Jaxon is in the other room.”

“I don’t care like at all. How do you feel, Y/N?”

“Fuck, I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know what I feel,” you blurted out in an urgent fiery whisper.

“Yes, you do. Okay yeah, it was a shock, but that was two week ago. You know how you feel, how you’ve always felt I’m suspecting.”

You rubbed your forehead and sighed out. “Jesus, okay. Let’s say I did know. What does it matter? I’m engaged to be married to a great guy.”

“Why would you marry someone you don’t love in the right way? Why would you resign to live the rest of your life with someone you don’t profoundly desire on every single level? Why would you want that especially knowing there is a better choice, the one who loves you as fiercely as you love him?”

He could have just pulled you to him, something said you wouldn’t have stopped him, but he didn’t know if he had that level of asshole in him—not right now.

“I’m sorry about that,” Jaxon said as he walked into the kitchen, breaking the bubble, making you move away from him to approach Jaxon. Once at his side, he watched on as Jaxon kissed you. It hurt to see, especially when his hand gripped your hip in a possessive manner. While it hurt, it also showed him what he wanted. He knew, without a doubt, his reasons weren’t for anything other than you were the woman of his dreams.

It was clear what he had to do now. He had to prove it to you. He had to up the ante and prove to you that he really felt what he felt. He also had the double task of showing you that you loved him as much as he loved you. He had to prove to you that he was the better choice for you, not Jaxon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

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***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. I’m sorry.

#the confession fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #black fanfiction #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic

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