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skiller0dani · 4 years ago

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Palace Garden | General Kirigan

M A S T E R L I S T Shadow and Bone Masterlist

smut requests info w.c | 4.8k summary | You are the General’s personal Healer, he doesn’t go anywhere without you. So when General Kirigan is invited to the King Pyotr’s annual ‘end of year’ party at the Grand Palace, you join him. Except the King’s second son, Nikolai, takes a special interest in you.

song

My Shadow and Bone pieces will probably include Spoilers from the SHOW. I have not yet read the books, I have only read through most of Six of Crows. I’m finishing that book as we speak, I have only seen the Shadow and Bone tv show, I haven’t read the books.

PSA: I write with limited knowledge of who Nikolai Lantsov is, although I know he is royalty (King of Ravka I believe) but in the show he isn’t the King, so I made him a Prince. Don’t be mad at me, this is all for fun and it’s FICTION.

“You’ve received another invitation from the King, just how long do you plan to ignore him?” You snicker as you drop a letter onto the General’s desk. It’s an invitation to King Pyotr’s End of Year Celebration, attended by decorated Soldiers from both the First and Second Army, and hopefully the esteemed General. The previous year the General had ‘urgent’ matters to attend to so he was unable to attend the dreaded party in his words. In truth you always had fun at the King’s Celebrations so you didn’t know what always soured his fun.

“Until the day after next.” His shoulders were rigid and his tone was clipped.

“General, tonight is the Celebration. You must answer the King by then, you know that.” You chuckled with a roll of your eyes, watching as the General begrudgingly tore open the envelope. You watched as his eyes scanned the paper in front of him, his eyebrows pinching together in frustration.

“General?” You knew it was unwise to engage him when he was in a state of agitation but in all honesty, you didn’t fear him the way everyone else did. General Kirigan swiftly ignored you and reached for a pen, and upon further examination your eyes caught your name written on the letter from the King.

‘I am most eager to meet your esteemed Healer, Y/N.’

The General tends to get a tad, possessive, of the things he deems belong to him. You were one the things the General had claimed as his own, and anybody who shows a particular interest in you tends to annoy him. You can see the tension growing in his shoulders, and while you might not know how deeply he cares for you, you know he sees you as more than just his Healer. Hopefully, he sees you as a sort of friend as well.

“Are we going to attend the Celebration General?” You ask cautiously, watching as Kirigan’s expression shifts from mildly annoyed to thoroughly agitated. You make sure to keep at least one foot distance between you and the General at all times, he tends to be a bit unpredictable when he’s upset. You watch as the General stands, yanking at the buttons of his Kefta before tossing the heavy fabric onto his bed.

“Yes, we are. Apparently both Princes will be in attendance.” The General says through a huff, reaching for his dress jacket- the black one with gold detailing he wears for social events. The Princes? Neither of the Princes have been spotted inside the Grand Palace for a few months now, it’s no wonder the King has chosen tonight for the Celebration. The end of the year isn’t for a few weeks and normally the Celebration is closer to the years change. You try to mask the mild excitement you feel at the prospect of meeting either of the Princes, although you don’t hear much about Prince Vasily. Most of the young Grisha women training in the Little Palace whisper about Prince Nikolai.

“Does this please you?” The General asks, his tone distracted as he finishes buttoning his Kefta in the mirror. You shake your head, your eyes briefly catching his.

“I couldn’t care either way General.” You say with a shrug, and you swear you see the tiniest smile grace the corner of his lips. For as long as you could remember you’ve had a thing for the General, what women wouldn’t? He’s tall, handsome, has dark hair, dark eyes, and he’s powerful. You doubt some Prince could ever compare to General Kirigan, not that you’re hoping one will. A Tailor swiftly enters the General’s chambers then, her eyes landing on you.

“A package has come for Y/N sir, and she should be getting ready for the party soon.” She says, her eyes only briefly meeting the General’s before flickering back towards the floor. His eyebrows stitch together when he sees the box she holds. You reach for it before his hand raises, “give it to me.” He instructs sternly. The Tailor quickly hands the package to the General and you see an unreadable expression pull onto his face. He plucks a note from the top lid of the package, and hands it to you before opening the package.

I await our meeting with bated breath dear Y/N.

- Prince Nikolai

Inside the package is easily the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen. It’s blood red with silver detailing, and it goes all the way to the floor. You take the dress from the General, stroking the smooth silk. He can see the twinkling in your eyes as you eye the gift from the Prince, it sends surges of frustration through his tightening chest. The Tailor ushers you into the General’s bathroom so you can change, and the General turns his back for privacy. It’s been like this for some time now, you hardly ever get ready for social events in your own room anymore. You’d been the General’s Healer for quite a few years now, and on more than one occasion he’s had to provide some Healing for you as well. He’s seen your entire upper torso bare from when he had to heal a stab wound through your chest. Needless to say, you were probably too comfortable in the presence of the General.

You stepped out of the bathroom and the General turned, his eyes landing on you. For a second he didn’t know what to say, you were absolutely stunning. Your hair had been let in loose curls down your back, normally you wore it up and out of the way so he didn’t normally get to admire your hair falling around your face. The dress hugged each of your curves beautifully, but the color was irritating him. Surely it was tailored to match whatever the Prince was wearing and General Kirigan couldn’t let that slide.

“Well? Am I presentable?” You ask the General, knowing you’ll need his say-so before you’re party ready.

“Nearly.” The General says, his voice trailing off into a whisper as he leans over towards the Tailor. You can see her smile but it’s quickly masked, and you don’t know what he’s saying to her. Quickly the Tailor ushers you back into the bathroom and fumbles around for a few things from her kit. She turns back to you with concentration on her face and soon the appearance of your dress begins to change. The red color fades away and is replaced with an inky black color, and the silver detailing morph into gold detailing. Soon the dress remains mostly the same, except for the fact that it matches the Kefta the General is wearing. When you step out of the bathroom again, you see a pleased look upon the General’s face.

“Now you’re ready.”

»»————-　✼　————-««

Your arm was hooked with the Generals as you entered the main hall of the Grand Palace, your eyes immediately traveling to all the ornate decorations covering the walls. Decorated window curtains, glass chandeliers, a wide ballroom laid out in front of you. It was crowded with people, a soft Orchestra playing in the background, and soft chatter. The General wore an easy smile across his face. He was keeping up appearances, you know he didn’t want to be here. His arm held you to his side tightly, and looming before you was the throne for the King and Queen. Stood on each side of them were the Princes, Vasily stood next to the King, and Nikolai next to the Queen. The King looked positively delighted to see the General.

“General Kirigan! Good you could make it. You remember my sons Vasily and Nikolai don’t you?” The King gestured to both of the Princes, and while Vasily regarded the General with a polite smile, Nikolai’s eyes were firmly on you.

“Yes of course, allow me to introduce the Princes to my Personal Healer- Y/N.” General Kirigan sounds almost proud as he introduces you, and you bow for the Princes who both send you a smile. Although Nikolai’s smile is flirtier then this brothers, who remains polite. The Queen’s eyes trail down your gown, noticing the slight shimmer to the fabric.

“Your dress is lovely, you must have had a good Tailor.” She smiles and you blush as you take your place next to the General, your arm slipping through his with ease.

“Well actually it was a gift from Prince Nikolai. T-Thank you for such a generous gift!” You inform her shyly, feeling General Kirigan’s body go slightly rigid beside you. You carefully peek at the General, and you notice he’s locked in a heated stare-down with Prince Nikolai.

“You’re very welcome, did the color not suit you?” He asks and it’s just now that you notice the Kefta he’s wearing matched your dresses previous color perfectly.

“Oh not at all-”

“I thought it would be better for my Healer to match my Kefta, your highness.” The General cuts in, his voice polite but firm. The General says it as if you should match because you’re his Healer but you know what he’s really saying. He’s telling the Prince he wanted you to match his Kefta and not Nikolai’s, General Kirigan is saying that you belong to him and the Prince knows that.

“Of course.” The Prince’s tone is tense, and the smile on his face looks practiced. You stay firmly placed by the Generals side, offering a polite smile as the General nearly drags you away from the royalty and further into the party. You can feel the frustration washing off the General in waves, your hand curling around his bicep a little tighter as a weak attempt to calm him. Kirigan almost cant stand the sight of you wearing a dress the Prince picked for you, but seeing the Princes face when he realized the dress he picked no longer matched his Kefta, but the General’s instead was wonderful enough to make up for it.

“General? I apologize but you’re needed urgently-” A Grisha solider pushes gently through the crowd and begins to whisper hastily in the General’s ear. You see annoyance cross onto the General’s face before he shoos the Grisha away. He turns towards you, leaning down to brush his lips over the shell of your ear. The small action sends shivers down your spine.

“Can you manage by yourself for a few minutes? There’s something I need to attend to, but I should be back shortly.” He whispers and you quickly offer him a nod before slipping your arm from his. General Kirigan shoots you an apologetic look before following the path the Grisha took before he disappears from sight. You hold a glass in your palm, although you’re not sure what the shimmering liquid is. You feel slightly out of place, and everyone steers clear of you. They saw you with the General, and are probably going to continue to ignore you to prevent receiving the Generals wrath.

“Y/N, right?” You hear a voice to your right and you know who it is before you even turn. Only one person is brave enough to approach somebody the General has placed an ‘unspoken’ claim on.

“Prince Nikolai.” You smile politely, taking a step to the side to create a small amount of distance from you and the Prince. He sips at his glass, a twinkling of mischievousness in his eyes.

“So tell me the real reason the color of your dress was altered. I thought we would have complimented each other nicely.” His voice is smooth like honey, his eyes a cool amber. It’s not that you find the Prince unattractive, quite the opposite actually. You just aren’t interested in him that way, and his good looks could never compare to General Kirigan. The Prince is clean cut and refined, while the General is rugged and untamed. They’re opposites in every way, and you just can’t be attracted to anybody else. Prince Nikolai could never compare to the General.

“I apologize Prince Nikolai, but I wanted to match the General.” You say with ease, finally allowing yourself to take a sip of the mystery drink in your hand. A look you can’t place briefly crosses over Prince Nikolai’s face, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he looked hurt.

“I see.” Is all he says and for the next few minutes you feel a tense silence before a hand presses against the small of your back. You turn your head and nearly breathe a sigh of relief.

“General.” You smile, although his eyes are firmly on Prince Nikolai. His hand gently pulls you closer to his side, and your heart races the tiniest bit faster when his hand curls around your hip to rest there. You know you and the General aren’t together, but the placement of his hand tells people otherwise. You lean further into his side, and you can feel his body relax ever-so-slightly as you do so. When the Orchestra plays a slow song, General Kirigan glances down at you with a raised brow.

“Prince Nikolai, if you’ll excuse us.” General Kirigan says when you notice other couples moving to the dance floor, including the King and Queen. He turns then and leads you out to the ballroom floor, his hand pressing against your lower back, holding your chest flush with his. He takes your hand with his free hand and soon you are both gently swaying to the music. The lights in the ballroom dim, the stars twinkling outside becoming even brighter.

“General, could I ask you a question?” You ask softly, relaxing into his embrace. When you hear him hum softly in response you turn your head up to look at him, he towers over you. You nibble on your bottom lip, your heart beginning to race like mad in your chest. His grip on your palm shifts to allow his fingers to lace through yours gently.

“Why does Prince Nikolai make you so...upset?” You ask, and deep down you know the answer. You just need him to say it. General Kirigan’s eyes flicker to meet yours, an expression on his face that you can’t read. His body presses more firmly against yours when his hold on your lower back tightens, pulling you even closer to him then you were before. You wished you could stay here in this moment with him forever, just the two of you and nobody else. You know that in your heart, you’ve fallen in love with General Kirigan but you doubt he’d ever feel the same way.

“Because I dislike the amount of attention he gives you.” General Kirigan admits, his eyes turning away from yours. You thumb rubs circles over the back of his hand subconsciously as your mind tries to grasp what he just said.

“Prince Nikolai could devote his entire life to attempting to impress me, and it would make no difference General.” You say softly, drawing his gaze back to yours. Your faces are nearly touching, your noses brushing against each others as you lean up on your tippy toes to be closer to him.

“Why not?” He can’t help himself as he asks, surely there’s not a chance you could ever feel for him what he feels for you. Part of him hates himself for being so weak, for allowing his heart to care for you, for allowing a weakness to crawl into his heart.

“Because he could never mean to me what you mean to me General, no matter how hard he tries...he could never be you.” You whisper softly, your cheeks burning hot and your eyes refusing to meet his. General Kirigan feels every emotion he’s tried to push away flood through him then, joy, excitement, glee, pure happiness. A small smile overtakes his face as he leans down to whisper in your ear for the second time tonight.

“Aleksander.”

“What?” You’re startled to say the least, pulling back to look into his eyes. Did he just...?

“That’s my name.” He clarifies, a full smile on his face now. You feel your heart pounding heavily in your chest when you suddenly hear a loud explosion. Startled, you push yourself into General- Aleksander’s chest. His arms curl around your body as the floor to ceiling windows are thrown open, and fireworks are seen outside. Immediately people flood out onto the Palace garden to view the fireworks, and Aleksander is gently leading you outside with them. Your hand is still locked with his as your head tips up to watch the colors explode in the sky. The Alkemi really pulled all the stops for this firework show. Your breath is stolen right from your lungs as you watch the fireworks go off, but soon you feel Aleksander’s fingers turning your face to look at him. Your eyes lock onto his before you’re leaning forward to connect your lips to his.

His arms wrap around your torso to pull you against him tighter, your arms flying up around his shoulders. You hear the fireworks exploding above you and the cheering of the crowd around you, but soon all of them fade away until it’s just you and Aleksander out in the garden alone. You don’t notice the people cheering for the fireworks around you, and you certainly don’t notice Prince Nikolai eyeing you with a broken heart from across the garden. He’s heard much of your victories in battle, and he knows more about you then you thought. When you part from Aleksander, you see a smile on his face and you know that same smile is mirrored on your own face.

»»————-　✼　————-««

By the time you make it back into Aleksander’s room, the moon is at it’s peak in the sky but you don’t feel tired. You stand shyly in his doorway, usually this is around the time you’d bid the General goodnight and begin the short trek to your room. But you’re not ready to say goodnight, you’re not ready for tonight to be over just yet and you can only hope he isn’t either. You bite the inside of your cheek just as you turn to head back into the hallway.

“Leaving so soon?” You hear his voice cut through the silence, and when you turn you see hurt flashing in his eyes. Does he want you to stay?

“I assumed you’d want me to go...like I normally do.” You say softly, your cheeks burning hot.

“Stay.” Is all he says, and it’s all you need to hear. You take a few steps into his room, shutting the door softly behind you. Aleksander crosses the room to you, his hands cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips back onto his. Your hands grab at the lapels of his Kefta, drawing him ever closer to you. His lips move languidly against yours before the kiss grows more desperate, his hands yanking your legs around his waist as he lifts you easily. His palms rest on the globes of your ass, quickly turning you and placing you down on the desk, not caring about the papers that are sent scattering off the desk. Your hands are trembling as your fingers work to unfasten the buttons of his Kefta. His hands don’t know where to touch first, gently grasping at the underside of your breasts before trailing down your curves, feeling how the dress hugs you so perfectly.

“G-General!” You gasp as his lips latch onto your pulse point, his hands digging into your hips. You finally unbutton his Kefta completely, pushing the fabric from his shoulders as soon as it’s freed. You yank at his dress shirt until its untucked from his pants, and his hands reach up your back to pull at the zipper securing your dress.

“Desperate?” Aleksander teases as he slowly pulls the zipper down your dress, the shoulders falling down your arms. You nod frantically, in truth you’ve never felt this desperate for anybody in your whole life. Your palms cup his cheeks, pulling his lips back to yours as his hands pull your dress down your body until it bunches at your waist. You’re practically panting against his lips as one of Aleksander’s hands slides up your thigh before he pulls away from you. He pulls back, just far enough that your lips can’t reach his. You try anyway, leaning forward and chasing his lips with an open mouth. He chuckles softly but stays just out of reach.

“What’s wrong?” You whine, your hands resting on his shoulders. Aleksander has a smile on his face, his hands are still on your hips, holding you tightly. He can’t believe that you’re here in front of him, letting him kiss you, letting him undress you. If only you knew all of the terrible things he’s done with the very same hands that are touching you, you’d probably want nothing to do with him. Aleksander brushes that thought away.

“Nothing, I just wanted to take in the moment.” He smiles but you groan, pulling helplessly at his shirt. He chuckles before leaning back towards you, pressing his lips to yours again. He loves that you’re so eager for him, so needy for him. Aleksander finishes pushing your dress down your legs, leaving you in nothing more than a pair of panties. His hands reach up to cup the underside of your breasts, his lips moving quickly against yours. Your hands reach to the hem of his shirt, and you part briefly to pull his dress shirt over his head.

“Sure about this?” Aleksander mumbles against your lips as his hand dips into your panties to drag a finger through your drenched folds. You nod helplessly against his lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders when he pushes a lewd finger into your tight opening. He thrusts his finger into you quickly, loving the desperate whines coming from your lips.

“Words please.” He says softly, quickly pressing a second finger into you. Your nails press crescent moons into his shoulders when he crooks his fingers into you, making you squeal.

“Yes, yes I’m sure about this.” You gasp, his thumb making contact with your clit and rubbing tight little circles. Your lips press firmly to his again, and he swallows all of your moans. Aleksander groans softly when he feels you grind your hips into his hand, your back arching as his other hand slides up your stomach to pinch your nipple.

“God all I want is you Aleksander-” You moan, saying his real name for the first time. Hearing you moan his name has shivers trembling down his back, and his fingers pulling out of your tight heat. Your hands are reaching for the waistband of his pants, fumbling with the button before you give up and Aleksander is swatting your hands away. He quickly undoes his pants and reaches into them to pull his hardening cock out. With one hand, he rips your panties from your body, leaving you naked and sprawled across his desk. It’s not a sight he’ll ever forget. He steps into your spread legs, one hand on his cock and the other hand on your hip as he presses his tip against your slippery folds. Your hands pull his chest against yours as you press your face into his neck when he pushes into you. Both of you release a moan simultaneously when you feel him stretching you open.

“Please tell me this isn’t a one time thing-”

“Stop talking.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours as he continues to work himself inch by inch into you. You mewl against his lips as he bottoms out, his tip nestled against the spot that makes your toes curl. It burns just a bit, but you’re still panting against him as he stays completely still inside you. You try to pull your hips back but his hands lock you in place, a playful smile on his face as he watches you roll your hips. His pupils are blown open in lust as he holds you against him, and he feels you growing wetter by the second. You want him to move so badly, you feel tears of frustration pushing at the backs of your eyes as you weakly try to once again get him to move inside you.

“Move please.” You beg shamlessly and Aleksander presses a quick kiss to your lips.

“You have to promise me something first.” He says softly and you groan, rolling your hips desperately again. He’s so hard inside you, you can feel your walls squeezing him tightly.

“Anything!” You nearly cry out, you ignore him when you hear him chuckle softly.

“Promise me that you’re mine. I can’t have anybody else seeing you this way.” Aleksander growls, starting to feel a little impatient himself. Your hands pull his bare chest against yours, your lips a hair’s distance away from his.

“I promise. I’m yours, only yours.” You promise, your hips wriggling against his once more. Seemingly satisfied, Aleksander pulls his hips back and slams back into you, causing you to cry out as he sets a brutal pace. He slams into you, ramming his tip against your g-spot repeatedly. You cry out as his lips latch onto your neck, leaving bruises in his wake as he bites and suckles any skin he can find. Your arms wind around his shoulders as he slams into you, reducing you to nothing more than a boneless moaning mess underneath him. Your lips press to his and you kiss him with a fiery passion, your body rocking against his. Suddenly Aleksander pulls out, gently yanking you off the desk to bend you over it. Your toes barely touch the ground before he’s sliding into you again, taking you roughly from behind. You hear him hiss through clenched teeth as his hand runs up your spine to twist your hair around his hand. He yanks you up onto your elbows by your hair, holding you in place as he keeps his brutal pace.

“Oh yes, yes-” All you can do is cry out and moan underneath him, all of your thoughts reduced to nothing more than endless praises to his cock. His grip on your hair loosens before your upper body collapses against the desk again, and his hands move instead to your hips to draw your body back against him to meet his thrusts. Pulling you back against him allows him to ram even deeper inside you, and you can feel his tip hit your cervix every time he thrusts into you. One of his hands reaches around your body to pinch and roll your clit and as soon as he does you’re crying out and moaning like a bitch in heat. His teeth are clenched as he groans above you, you feel absolutely heavenly.

“Fuck, fuck! Gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” You cry out helplessly, your hip bones screaming in pain every time they’re rammed against the edge of the desk. Aleksander doesn’t slow down even for a second, continuing to brutally pound into you, desperate to chase his own release. Aleksander yanks your torso up so that your back is pressed to his chest and one of his hands reaches down to roll your clit. You cry out desperately as your orgasm washes through you, causing you to clamp down around him tightly. Aleksander fucks up into you, slamming into your overstimulated body until you’re violently trembling and soon he’s cumming in hot spurts. Your exhausted body nearly collapses to the floor when he pulls out and steps away. Aleksander immediately reaches forward to catch you before you crumple to the floor.

He scoops you into his arms and gently carries you to the bed, and you practically melt into the mattress. You see concern pooling in his eyes as he pulls the blankets over you, his thumbs brushing over the bruises on your neck and shoulders, plus the purple bruises on your hipbones from the desk. He leans down to press his lips to your gently and you smile into the kiss.

“I know that look, stop worrying. I can Heal myself in the morning, I’m too tired now.” You reassure him and his worry eases a bit before he’s standing to turn out all of the lights and slide into the bed next to you. Aleksander reaches over to pull your limp body against his chest. Pressing a kiss to your head, he holds you against him tightly.

“Did I go too hard?” He asks into the silence and you nuzzle into his warm chest.

“It was perfect Aleksander.” You promise, pressing a kiss against his chest. He relaxes then with you in his arms. Soon he hears your breathing even out and he knows you’re asleep. Aleksander knows by now that he’s falling in love with you, but for your sake he has to keep his distance. He’ll have to find a new Healer, no matter how much it pains him to do so. If anybody found out the Black Heretic loved somebody, you’d be in grave danger and frankly, Aleksander is afraid of what he’d do if he ever lost you. His heart breaks when he remembers what he has to do tomorrow, but luckily it isn’t tomorrow yet and he can enjoy laying here with you sleeping in his arms.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #general kirigan #general kirigan smut #the darkling #the darkling smut #the darkling x you #darkling x you #aleksander kirigan smut #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova smut

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averytiredfanfictionwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Clan (Technoblade x demon!reader, Philza x demon!reader)

Word count- 2,210 Content Warnings- none that I can think of Ao3 link- right here.

My first post back in a while. I’m sorry about the absence to whoever might care- a lot of things popped up in my personal life that stressed me out, on top of my graduation fast approaching. But I’m back now, and this might not be the Karl or Ranboo fic that was promised, it is at least something. Those will both be coming within a week or two, I just need to finish up some stuff and then edit them. So follow if you want to see when I post those, or just reply on this post saying that you want to be tagged when I do post them. Enjoy! Reblogs are appreciated, as well as likes. So if you could just do both, that would mean the world to me!

Techno’s used to being alone. He lived the first hundred years of his life that way- until he met Phil. And then Phil left. And he was alone again.

But when he met Y/n, that all changed. He never had to worry about being alone again. Immortals are rare, and meeting another one is even rarer, but the two were inseparable. She never disclosed where she was from, or what the tattoos of strange runes on her body meant, and Techno knew better than to pry into matters that didn’t concern him, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about as she stared out the window with her eyes clouded over and memories of a past time playing in her mind.

When Phil came back, it was easy for the pair to fit him back into their lives. Even though Y/n had never met him before it was as if they’d known each other for centuries before then. The three easily settled into a calm daily routine and when they returned to their own houses in the little community they’d created for just them at night, they fell asleep having forgotten what life was like before they’d met.

The three gods never worried about what would happen when they were found. After all, they’re immortal. They’ve lived to see the rise and fall of countries, rulers, and everything else. Them of all people know that nothing is permanent. But none ever stopped to consider that what they had wasn’t permanent.

It started when Techno woke up in the morning. The arctic always lent itself to freezing mornings but this one felt colder than the others. It could be because he had expected to wake up with Y/n and Phil next to him on the couch, and was surprised that they would go back to their own houses. But it was much more than that- even if Techno couldn’t have known.

Phil and Techno looked in silence for any trace of Y/n around their community when the sun hit the middle of the sky and she still hadn’t shown her face. Any places she might have gone off to in search of quiet or a place to nap. But that didn’t appear to be the case and their search turned up empty and in vain.

Techno retreated into himself. He found the note she’d left when he and Phil returned from their search and he didn’t say anything, instead heading down to the basement in his small house and shutting himself in to work on ‘very important stuff’ as he told Phil. Phil didn’t believe him- Techno wasn’t exactly quiet in expressing the emotions he felt about Y/n leaving.

Phil wasn’t quite as emotional as Techno. He was more than two hundred years older than the pink-haired man. He was used to the constant ebbing and flowing of life, of the appearance and then disappearance of people. That’s not to say it didn’t hurt, but he knew that it’s the way of life. People come, and then they go. To stop it would be to disregard the nature of humans as a whole.

He was a little surprised when Techno came back up at the end of the night and, while silent, had refused to acknowledge that she’d even existed there in the first place. He ignored the building next to his where she’d slept and kept her belongings. Whenever Phil tried to bring her up, Techno would shut out the conversation and pretend he hadn’t heard him. It wasn’t healthy, and Phil couldn’t blame him because he was still young but he just wished he wouldn’t be so heartbroken to the point of refusing to acknowledge that she ever existed in the first place.

This went on for months. Almost a whole year had passed and the building that contained Y/n’s belongings went untouched. All the delicate keepsakes from past adventures, photos of strangers that neither of the men dared ask about, and the bookshelves lining almost every wall and so full of books from all over the world- it all gathered dust. Until finally she came back.

Phil almost didn’t recognize her at first. The tired weariness evident in the dark circles under her eyes and the dragging of her footsteps, but everything else was the same. The dark hair on her head now long enough to braid- much to his excitement- and the multitudes of runes covering her body, with the additions of quite a few now. One of the newest things though is the several piercings and jewelry that she’s wearing. The most prominent of which is the chain hanging around her neck, a medium-sized precious stone of unknown origin hanging off of it.

“Y/n…” Phil said, dropping the wood he held in her arms in favor of running over and embracing her.

She hugs him back, the feeling almost foreign to her now. But now that she’s back, she doesn’t intend on forgetting it again.

“Where’s Techno? I need to talk to you both.” Y/n mumbles into Phils' shoulder, and for a minute he feels the cold flush of fear at the thought of her leaving again.

“He’s inside his house. Here, I’ll take you there.” Phil can’t help but feel like he’s showing around a visitor. The community has changed quite a bit since she’d last been there but the dread-filled feeling that he gets at the thought of her leaving again, coming back to say that she’s leaving and never returning, is more than he could take.

“Techno. Where are you?” Phil calls out as he enters the house and the chill of the room makes him shiver.

“Downstairs.” A gruff voice calls back, followed by a grunt of frustration.

“Well, can you come upstairs real quick? We have a visitor.” The word is bitter on his tongue and the look that flashes quickly across Y/n’s face makes him wish he’d chosen a better wording.

“Fine.” The ladder creaks and then Techno is peeking his head through the hole that leads down the basement.

“Y/n. What are you doing here?” It’s not entirely a question, and Y/n winces at Techno’s harsh tone. “Why are you back now? What, was living out there not as good as you thought it was? Well, you can leave. We don’t want you back here. We’re doing just fine on our own.”

Y/n feels destroyed. She didn’t expect Techno to react positively to her return, but she didn’t expect this.

“Can I just tell you why I left?” She asks, and Techno snorts.

“Sure. Go ahead. Lay on us this wonderful reason.” Techno’s voice drips with sarcasm.

“There were some people I needed to find- had to find.” She says and Techno laughs.

“Really. That’s your reason. You had to go find some people so you left for ten months. You didn’t even think to tell us in person, instead, you just left a note. Hell, you could have taken us with you. We would have happily gone with you. I would have happily gone with you. I’d have done anything for you. But it appears that the feeling wasn’t mutual, since you barely bothered to leave a half-assed note telling us.” Techno shouts, having climbed fully into the room and stood towering over the girl.

“You don’t understand. This was not a trip you could have made. Neither of you would have been able to!” Y/n shouts back.

Phil backs away, settling into the couch on the other side of the room.

“What do you mean, I don’t understand. I understand perfectly. You abandoned us. You abandoned me. Well, you know what, I don’t want you back here. You need to leave. Get your things and leave. Right now.” Techno says and it feels like Y/n was just punched in the gut.

“What? Techno you’re not serious?” Phil’s astonished. Of everything he thought Techno would say to Y/n, this wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah, I am. Now get out.” Philza protests and Techno starts yelling at him as he tries to shove her out of the house.

“My clan was killed! I had to find their bodies!” She shouts out over the two men and Techno stops pushing her.

“Clan?” He asks and Phil stares at her blankly.

“You’re a demon?” He asks and Techno looks back and forth between the two.

“Part demon, yes. My clan was killed and I had to find them. I needed to know who was left. And… I’m now the leader of a clan that doesn’t exist anymore. They were all dead.” Her voice breaks at the end of her sentence, and the sorrow overwhelms her. She’d done a good job on the trip there and back of not crying, of ignoring what happened. But saying it out loud makes it real, and something inside her snaps with those words.

Suddenly the runes tattooed on her and the amount of gold jewelry she’s wearing makes sense to Phil.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Techno pulls her into his arms protectively.

Phil stands from the couch and joins them. The combined warmth of the other two hybrids is almost too much to bear, but Philza hugs them anyways. Y/n’s sobbing continues for a little longer, but soon it turns into muffled sniffles and the shaking of her body calms a little bit.

“It’s up to me now to find a new clan. Custom is that I have to either join one or find others to form one with. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay here. Most of them require you to live with the group.” Y/n whispers as she pulls away from the hug.

“No. I won’t let you leave. Not for a second time.” Techno says stubbornly, and Y/n shakes her head.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do. We’ll be your new clan. Even if you can’t give us the jewelry of your brothers and sisters like tradition dictates, we can still be your clan. Technically your clan doesn’t have to be other demons.” Phil smiles at her. Techno doesn’t know why Phil would know that, but he doesn’t question his knowledge either way. Phil’s lived a long life before he and Y/n came into the picture.

“You guys would do that?” She asks and he nods his head eagerly.

“Of course. We were already really close before- nothing’s going to be changing.”

“Yeah. What do we have to do to join your clan?” Techno asks.

“Well, we basically have to get married to each other. It’s really just an unbreakable promise to stay with each other and protect each other until we die. Soooo… forever. Are you guys sure this is what you want? Because once we do this we can’t go back.” Y/n looks at them in worry.

“Yes. We both want this. You belong here with us. Life was horrible without you here. I had to deal with Phil all alone. The full force of his attention was on me. It was a never-ending nightmare.” Technos voice is dry as he delivers the joke and Y/n laughs as Phil protests.

“Hey. You forget that I was equally as stuck with you. It’s not easy when you live with a piglin who never gets cold and forgets that not everyone is as lucky as him.” Phil says and Techno mimics his words.

“Whatever you say, old man. But Y/n, I’m a hundred percent serious about joining your clan. I never want to let you go again.” Techno says into Y/n’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it was so quiet without you here mate. And cold. So, so cold.” Phil wraps his wings around the two human furnaces and holds them close.

Even though he’s more than two hundred years older than the pair and knows the reality of life- that eventually they’ll get bored of each other or tired and leave- he finds himself wanting to never let go.

“Here, hold out your hands,” Y/n tells them as she pulls out of the hug.

The two men do so without hesitation, and Y/n places a ring in each of their hands. They’re heavy, made of an unknown metal to most who walk the earth and they’re burning hot to the touch as if they were just forged and taken out of the fire.

“But… you’re not supposed to?” Phil says and the woman shakes her head.

“It doesn’t matter if my clan is made of demons or not. I’m still going to give you guys the rings signifying our bonds.” She says and Phil nods.

“Now… who wants to go and slaughter some orphans?” Techno asks, clapping his hands together.

Y/n shouts yes and drops her bag on the ground, running out the door. Techno hangs back a moment, pausing only to look at his reflection in the mirror- at the heavy ring on his tusk. It’s stopped burning and has turned into a comfortable warmth.

“Hey, you good mate?” Phil asks and Techno smiles.

“Never better.” He eyes the half-demon waiting outside in the snow, her tail swishing on the ground behind her.

“Good. Because now there’s no getting rid of her.” Phil smiles and they join the girl waiting outside, ready for whatever adventures lie ahead.

#dsmp x reader #dsmp techno #technoblade x reader #technoblade x platonic!reader #philza x reader #philza x platonic!reader #hybrid reader #technoblade x hybrid!reader #philza x hybrid!reader #technoblade x y/n #philza x y/n #lizzy writes

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thewildomega · 4 years ago

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Always wondered how Katakuri would react to a painter S / O ? The strange way they look at life from an artistic view , Since it probably wouldn't be practical for a pirate to be an artist : ( Like them randomly stopping to admire a flower and talking about how the color makes them feel only to hear someone like Luffy say " it's just a flower , what's the big deal ? " ) You can make is angst if you want , but can it please have a happy ending ? ( I don't wanna cry!😫)

P.s. My angst idea is the Katakuri's S / O has some ability to do with water and her belief is that is the only reason Katakuri and the Charlotte fam like her (she might be right about some of them🤔) after all I imagine they would think being a painter is stupid . You don't have to do this it's just my idea . 🌸Please and thank you💖

A/N: Thank you for requesting! So I changed a few things up but I hope you liked it!

Through the eyes of an Artist

Finding a secluded area away from everyone else you pulled out your sketch book and charcoals, your most cherished possessions. Glancing up to the spring that was surrounded by beautiful flowers of all colors you grinned a little and started drawing away, drifting away into your own mind. Times like these were your favorite, times when you could be yourself and not the woman you had been forced to play the part of.

Your mother and father owned a large sugar cane plantation and had made many business investments over the years by marrying off your brothers and sister. now however it was your turn, your parents chosen suitor had been none other than a man from the Charlotte family, one of the notorious Big Mom's sons. For weeks now you parents had been doubling down on your 'princess' training along with your lessons on how to make be a proper wife. You hadn't known to just two days ago when your ship had arrived at Toto Land Island that your betrothed just happened to be the most feared of them all, Katakuri. Having only been in his presence once, he had said nothing to you, only looked down at you with a cold stare that told you everything you needed to know. He didn't want you. Your parents and brothers had seen it as well apparently and the moment all of you had been shown to your temporary rooms they had all started jumping you.

"You couldn't smile a little?"

"Why did you not curtsy like we talked about?"

"Couldn't you have made yourself even the slightest bit attractive tonight?"

"You are such a disappointment..."

"Why oh why did we have to be cursed with such a worthless daughter!"

"The only thing good she has going for her is her devil fruit powers..."

On and on they went, your eyes focused on the floor as tears brimmed and threatened to spill down your cheeks. That night when you had laid in bed all you could think about was how not even your husband would care about you. You were doomed to be forever unloved. What sucked even more was that you were being ripped away from the only friend that you had ever had, the only person that didn't see you as a failure and waste of space. Tika had been the only person to seem to like you for you not just because of your water manipulation devil fruit powers.

Before you knew it splotches were messing up your art piece and you sniffled as you reached up to wipe away the tears falling from your eyes. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath and sighed. Opening your eyes a bit you looked towards the blueish purple hyacinth and blinked slowly, turning the page to capture that single flower, the one that represented how you felt. Adding in different shades and blending them together with your fingertip you tilted your head to the side in concentration, not even hearing the person walk up behind you.

"You shouldn't be out here." a deep voice spoke.

Completely caught off guard by the sudden voice you threw your sketch book and charcoal out of your hands and let out a little yelp. Snapping your eyes up you saw the two crimson eyes looking at you with the same coldness and disdain as they had two days ago. Opening and closing your mouth you quickly bowed your head. "I'm sorry. I... I didn't know it was off limits o..or anything I just... well I..." Stupid you had done it again, you had messed up again. Just like you always did. "I'm sorry." you said in a whisper.

He just stood there watching as the woman, his bride to be stumbled over an apology. Seeing her bow her head low and then move to gather her things he moved his eyes to the ground and saw a pad of paper of sorts and what looked to be a set of colorful charcoals, many of which were very small. She had been drawing? Crouching down he began helping her gather all the little pieces for her.

When his large hand started picking the pieces of charcoal out of the grass to hand them to you you glanced up to him and saw his face buried in his scarf. Taking them when he held them out for you, you quickly thanked him and went about placing them in the small bag you had. Being so focused on the task at hand you didn't even notice him lift your sketch pad up and flip it over to examine your flower piece until it was too late. "No! Don't look at tha...." you tried saying but it was too late.

Standing back to his full height he looked over the different drawings and art pieces. "You did all these?" he asked, his voice emotionless.

Curling up some you mumbled out a small 'yes' and readied yourself for the cruel words you were so used to hearing. When he said nothing you bit your lip and looked down. "I know it's a useless pass time, stupid even but I..."

Looking to a painting of the sea he grinned a little behind his scarf. "You are an exceptional artist." Hearing her small gasp he looked down to see a small blush dusting her cheeks and her eyes looking up at him in pure shock. She wasn't used to such compliments apparently.

You could honestly say your heart warmed a bit at his kind words and you swallowed thickly before replying. "Thank you."

Humming he began leading her back to the palace. "Do you preferer to use Charcoals?" he asked.

Shaking your head you reached up to brush your hair back behind your ear. "No, paints are my favorite."

"Gouache, Watercolors, acrylics or oil?" he asked.

You had never had anyone to talk about art with before and could feel yourself smiling a little at the conversation. "Well I've only ever been able to use Acrylics and oil based paints before. I have seen some watercolor pieces from other artist before though and hope to one day try them as well."

Humming he continued walking with her all the way to the palace doors, the both of them quietly talking about this and that until he heard a man and woman yell his fiancé's name.

Quickly looking up when you heard your parents yell your name you saw them both waiting at the front entrance, deep scowls on their faces. Instantly the smile that Katakuri had managed to bring to your lips disappeared. "Mother, fath..."

"Where have you been?! We have been searching for you for hours!" you mother screeched. "Just look at your dress, covered in those damn charcoals again." she snapped.

"I.. I'm sorry.. I..." You started but were quickly cut off by your father.

"No more of your excuses. I am sick and tired of this worthless hobby of yours." he growled, snatching your sketch pad and charcoals from you.

"No, please father I..."

"Y/n that is enough." your mother hissed out between clenched teeth.

"Now, you will apologize to Katakuri for no doubt wasting his time with your foolishness." your father demanded.

He had stood there quietly, listening to Y/n's parents belittle her. Crossing his arms over his chest he continued to remain silent, even when his bride to be turned to him and whispered out a sorrowful apology. Not responding because he knew if he opened his mouth he would say too much he just stood there and watched as her mother grabbed her wrist, too hard judging by the small wince she made, and quickly pulled her back towards their rooms.

Sighing your father pinched the bridge of his nose and turned towards the commander. "I assure you Katakuri she isn't as useless as she seems. While she may be stuck on this junk and her looks aren't very good, my daughter does have a powerful water power unlike any other. I have no doubt that she will prove to be a valuable asset to your family. Not to mention she will also be able to give you plenty of heirs. I only hope this little mishap hasn't made you change your mind about marrying her. I will be having a long talk with her and I promise that she will give this up." he said, holding up the art supplies in his hand .

Gritting his teeth he glared down at the man. "I intend to keep my families side of the deal." Without another word he walked away from the man before he did something he would regret or rather something his mother would not be happy about.

........................

Today was the day, your wedding day but you couldn't find a reason to be happy. All day you had been getting ready. People pinning you up in an attempt to make you look somewhat acceptable. Your mother's harsh comment about Katakuri not looking to your face too long making a knot form in your throat. Walking down the isle towards him you could only think back on the last few days where he had went back to ignoring you. To your knowledge the two of you had been hitting it off pretty good the other day, speaking of this and that. Perhaps though your family had been right and he was only being nice for the sake of your upcoming union.

Standing beside him as the priest spoke you looked him over through your veil and noticed how handsome he looked. Before too long your mind had began making notes about how you could draw this moment later but then you remembered your father's words and frowned. Never again would you be allowed to practice your art skills, having brought enough shame to your family.

When it came time to kiss and he lifted your veil you looked up into his crimson eyes and saw them not as cold as they were before and blinked. Feeling him kiss your head through his scarf you heard one of your brothers make a quiet comment about not blaming Katakuri for wanting to kiss you, the words making your heart clench painfully.

During the reception you sat beside Katakuri and kept your head down.

"Congratulations..."

Looking up you saw a thin, tall looking woman standing there and straightened up when you realized it was one of the other Charlotte children. "T..Thank you." you said politely.

"My name is Brulee, we haven't met yet but Big Brother here tells me you are an artist." she said with a smile.

"An Artist!?" Big Mom questioned around a mouthful of cake.

Gasping a little you looked between her and your husband. Nodding a bit you opened your mouth to speak when you caught sight of your father staring daggers at you and dropped your shoulders. "I... I used to be."

Knitting his brows at her sudden change in emotion he looked across the hall to see her father looking at her with a very strict look and raised his chin as father went on talking to his mother.

"It was a childhood hobby, nothing to brag about." you father laughed off with the rest of your family joining in.

Seeing his wife's eyes look to her lap and noticing a droplet of water fall to her lap he let out a deep breath and stood. "Mama, Y/n and I are going to retire for the night." he spoke deeply.

"Yes, yes. Of course you both are ready for the honeymoon." she laughed.

Blushing behind his scarf he said nothing as he held his hand out for Y/n to take, noticing her hand shaking a bit. "Brulee." he said and heard his little sister hum. Without a word they led her from the room and out to the hall. Seeing Brulee stand before a mirror he continued holding his wife's hand as his sister opened the mirror world.

Going through one mirror and then being led to another you felt Katakuri stop and glanced up just the tiniest amount.

"Thank you sister." he said.

"Of course." She told her brother with a smile before looking down to the smaller woman. "I can't wait to get to know you Y/n. Congratulations again."

With that you felt Katakuri pull you through another mirror and looked around when you saw you were now in a large house of sorts.

Seeing her look around curiously he grinned, "Welcome home."

Looking up to him you blinked and then scanned your eyes around the house. From where you were, which seemed to be a front foyer you could see a living area, kitchen and dining room. There was a massive stairway in front of you with many doors on the upper level that were closed.

"I will give you the grand tour tomorrow but there is one room I have been wanting to show you." he said. Holding her hand he led her up the stairs and down the hall a bit to the third door down from his... their bedroom. Grabbing the knob he looked down to her and grinned behind his scarf. "I wanted you to have a room to call your own... I guess you could call it a wedding gift from me to you." he told her, noticing her confused look. Opening the door he turned on the light and instantly heard her gasp.

Gasping you moved your hand to cover your mouth. Staring into the room you saw it filled with different art supplies. A large easel sat in the middle of the room with a chair in front of it. New paints of all different colors and types sat on the built in shelves and any other kinds of supplies you could ever dream of having. For the first time in your life you felt happy tears fill your eyes. You had to be dreaming, this had to be a dream.

Watching her quietly he said nothing until a few minutes had passed and he started getting nervous, maybe he had went overboard and it was now creepy. "So is this acceptable... do you like..." He didn't get to finish his sentence before she was pulling him down by his scarf and smashing her lips to his. Freezing he felt his breath catch in his throat and his eyes go wide. Her soft lips stayed on his for a moment before she slowly pulled away and opened her eyes to look at him. Readying himself for the cruel comments he felt his body tense but to his surprise she only smiled and it made him even more uncomfortable. "Well go on say something." he grunted out.

Cupping his scared cheek you felt his large teeth against your skin and smiled, "You're beautiful, a true masterpiece. Maybe one day you might let me paint you?"

A deep blush tinted his cheeks and now it was him that thought he was dreaming.

#Charlotte Katakuri #one piece katakuri #katakuri x reader #Katakuir fanfiction #one piece #One Piece Fanfiction #fluff #light angst

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allisondraste · 4 years ago

Text

Ambivalence: Chapter 2

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe x Female Cousland

Story Summary: It has been just over a year since Nathaniel Howe and Elissa Cousland were reunited, childhood friendship forged into a love that endured a decade apart. However, every love is tested at some point. Presented with circumstances that could either make or break their relationship, Nate and Liss are no different.

Previous Chapter

[AO3 Link]

Chapter 2: Uncertainty

Chapter Summary: Nate and Liss spend some much needed time with Delilah.

Just Outside Vigil’s Keep, Cloudreach 9:33 Dragon

“Come on,” Liss said with a laugh, speeding up her pace and tugging at his hand, “Put some spring in your step, Nate.”

“Why the hurry?” Nathaniel asked, slowing to a stop and watching as their intertwined fingers halted her march forward. She spun around to face him, locks of golden hair flowing behind her and settling on her shoulders as she studied him in amusement. An endearing notch formed between her brows and he couldn’t prevent the chuckle that escaped him, nor the undoubtedly dopey grin that lingered on his lips afterward. “We have all afternoon.”

Liss scowled more deeply at his comment, bringing her free hand to her hip. “It would be rude to keep your sister waiting, especially with a fussy little one about, trying to waddle into the river.”

“I am certain that Aidan is on his best behavior.”

“Aren’t you eager to visit with them?” She took a few steps closer. “It’s been weeks since we’ve all been free of duties at the same time.”

Nathaniel brought her hand up to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. “It has also been weeks since you and I had more than just our nights alone.”

“Are you suggesting we abandon Delilah and cavort about on our own?”

“I am suggesting that we take our time in reaching our destination,” he said softly, pulling her nearly flush against him.

Liss laughed and blinked up at him, smirking and biting her bottom lip in that feigned innocence she so enjoyed putting on. “Oh?”

In lieu of a response, he dipped down and captured her lips, tentatively as if it was the first time they’d kissed. In her typical fashion, she returned the gesture with full-bodied confidence, cinching her arms tightly around his waist as she did so. It was an exchange that was truly theirs, a habit, a ritual that offered him security he’d never really known before. When they pulled apart, she smiled at him widely, eyes sparkling with affection, and he truly did not know what he’d done to earn such a boon from the Maker.

With that, they continued on at a more leisurely pace toward their established meeting place with Delilah, arm-in-arm and enjoying casual conversation about nothing and everything all at once. Nathaniel had always appreciated Liss’ ability to have conversation. She was knowledgeable and passionate about so many things, there were times he had to do little more than listen and nod along as she prattled on about the latest book she’d been reading, or the symbology of the family crests for each and every noble house in Ferelden, or the mating practices of common nugs. Being around her was so easy. It always had been.

They were headed toward the bank of an unnamed tributary of the Hafter River, an area not too far from Vigil’s Keep, beautiful and well hidden by foliage. When he and his siblings had been children, the spot served as their own special secret, a refuge from the prison their home had slowly become after their mother died. It never mattered the weather, when they stole away to their little stream, they were able to pretend that they were normal children skipping their lessons and hiding away from tutors and maids. Now, Delilah used it as a refuge from her responsibilities to the Arling, a place to relax, visit with loved ones, and have picnics.

As they approached the wooded bank, Nathaniel spotted his sister straining in an attempt to drape a blanket across the ground with only one arm while clinging to his squirming nephew in the other. Liss had apparently seen this too, as she nudged him with her elbow, released his arm and took off running toward Delilah and Aidan.

“Looks like you could use a hand or two,” Liss said cheerfully as she approached.

Delilah looked up to greet her, letting the blanket fall to the ground as she straightened up and adjusted her grip on her son. “You’ve no idea,” she said with an exasperated laugh. She looked at Aidan and asked, “Want to go play with Auntie Liss for a bit?”

Aidan, who was just over a year old, glanced with drooling skepticism between his mother and Liss who wiggled outstretched fingers at him excitedly. After a moment of furrowing his little eyebrows and an encouraging nod from Delilah, the boy giggled and reached out with chubby arms toward Liss. She scooped him up without hesitation, tossing him up into the air and catching him before propping him on her hip and walking over toward the water’s edge.

Nathaniel had approached more slowly, watching with no small degree of warmth as the interaction took place. It was a domesticity he never realized he desired until it played out right before his eyes. When he reached his sister, she had just begun to pick up the blanket and resume her attempt to spread it out.

“Here,” he said when he reached her, “Let me help.”

Delilah smirked, extended one end of the fabric to him, and teased, “Whatever would I do without my big brother here to help me complete the simplest of tasks?”

“Just because you can do something alone,” Nathaniel replied matter-of-factly as they stepped away from one another, each holding onto ends of the blanket to stretch it out, then lower it into a neat square on the ground, “Does not mean that you must.”

Delilah rose up, hands on her hips, admiring their handiwork before turning her gaze to Nathaniel, an eyebrow raised. “You sound like Lady Elissa.”

He snorted out a laugh, eyes drawn to the woman and little boy presently splashing about in the water with bare feet. “She must be rubbing off on me.”

When he forced his eyes back to his sister, she was grinning widely, clearly having caught his admiration. “I can’t imagine how that happened.”

Delilah lowered herself down into a leisurely sitting position on the blanketed area, then looked up and patted the empty space beside her. “Come on, Nate. Sit.”

He did as she bade and sat down next to his sister, extending his legs out in front of him as he leaned back on the palms of his hands, taking a quick glance at the branches above his head before turning back to examine his sister who grinned mischievously.

Nathaniel scowled. “Why are you smiling like you’ve lured me into a trap?”

“How do you know I haven’t?” She raised her eyebrows.

“I suppose it’s too late for concern anyhow,” he said with a shrug, attention drawn out toward the water’s edge, to Liss once again.

Unlike the last time he’d looked at her, she was crouched down in the shallows of the water, Aidan hovering over her, watching intently as she focused on whatever it was she was doing. It was difficult to tell from a distance. Delilah shoved his shoulder playfully, muttering something about him not being any fun, but he barely noticed.

Liss stood up, and stepped back out of the water, the bottom quarter of her skirts soaked thoroughly and dripping. She sat down on the bank, hands clasped together tightly as she motioned for Aidan to come sit with her. He toddled gleefully over toward her, crawling up under her arms to sit in her lap, waiting expectantly to see what surprise she held in her grasp. She opened her hands slowly, still keeping them partially cupped, as he peered in and squealed in delight.

Liss giggled and asked, “Can you say ‘ frog’?”

The boy looked between her and the creature thoughtfully, then said, “FOG!”

“That’s right,”she exclaimed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “Good job, pup.”

Nathaniel froze, a confusing mottle of emotions surging up into his chest, burning behind his eyes. Pup . He’d heard that particular endearment hundreds of times during his summers in Highever. It had been Bryce Cousland’s chosen diminutive for his own children, as well as for any child whose name he could not remember. He wondered if Liss had used it intentionally, a way to honor her father’s memory. Perhaps she had not even realized.

They’d never discussed it, what pet names she would call a child. In their situation... it had never seemed warranted to discuss children at all. It was not as if they were able to have a family of their own, if that were something she wanted. A pang of guilt speared through him. Andraste’s Blood, he had not even thought to ask her if that was something she wanted. There was a tug at his ear that made him snap around, frowning at the interruption.

“What,” he asked his sister as she blinked back at him with those fierce blue eyes.

“Maker, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that enraptured,” Delilah teased, chuckling and watching Liss help Aidan hold the frog she’d caught, “She’s so good with him, isn’t she?”

Nathaniel nodded, steeling himself with a shaky breath before speaking. “She truly is.”

Silence fell between them, comfortable yet heavy with his turbulent emotions, insecurities and doubts like a dark cloud looming over an otherwise ideal afternoon. However, if his sister noticed, she said nothing of it and kept her attention focused on her son and the woman who was currently doting upon him. After some time had passed, she looked over to him thoughtfully, raising her brows as she tapped her index finger to her chin.

He snorted out a laugh. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Delilah let out a sigh and straightened her posture as if preparing to deliver a speech. “I know you’re tired of hearing it but—”

“Delilah, I know where this is going and—”

“Is there some reason you have not asked that lovely woman to marry you yet,” she continued her lecture anyway, “The way that you look at her… I know it is not for lack of interest.”

He let his head hang, ashamed at her honest, biting words. In truth, it was something he’d desired for sometime now, asking Liss for her hand. He simply wanted to go about it in the most appropriate way, at the most appropriate time, but it was more complicated than that. Still, wasn’t that part of his mission today? To tell Delilah what he intended?

“Actually—” he began, interrupted by the excited gasp that escaped his sister—”That’s something I had hoped to speak with you about today. I wasn’t sure we’d have the chance, but it seems Aidan has provided the perfect distraction.”

“Nate,” Delilah said softly, hushed voice wavering. Tears glistened in her eyes when he finally looked up at her, “Are you serious?”

He inhaled sharply and let out the breath with force before answering. “I think so. There are still so many things to consider, but… yes. This is what I want. She is what I want, whatever that looks like.”

“That’s so… wonderful,” she blurted, a touch too loud for Nathaniel’s comfort and he widened his eyes at her, “Sorry, I’m just happy for you. It’s more than about time.”

“If I am to be completely honest, I have been having doubts— nothing about her, just uncertainties about the life we live now, whether or not marriage is even appropriate.”

“Do not tell me you intend to second guess a proposal to someone you’ve been in love with since you were ten years old over protocol. ” She wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you dare get my hopes up like this.”

“I just—”

“What did the Warden-Commander say?”

“I haven’t told her yet.”

“If protocol is something that concerns you, why haven’t you approached your commanding officer?” Delilah was relentless, clearly invested in a wedding neither of them knew would even happen.

Nathaniel let out a frustrated sigh, laughing bitterly as he thought about Lucia with her gentle practicality. “Because she will tell me to do it.”

“So what is stopping you, Nate?” She softened at that, searching his face as if the answer to her question might appear on his forehead if she stared long enough. “You have clearly thought about this enough to approach me about it.”

“I’ve also written to Fergus,” he confessed. “I sent a raven to Highever just this morning. I was actually excited about it.”

“I know this might be hard for you to believe, but—” Delilah placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him gently— “It is normal to have doubts.”

He met her gaze and rolled his eyes as he fought a smile. “I suppose you are right.”

“So you’re going to do it?”

“I am… going to do it.” Saying the words out loud was more freeing than he’d expected. To see the joy on his sister’s face, even more so.

“Good,” she said with a nod, “If it helps, you could imagine Father’s spirit in the Fade, fuming over the prospect that despite his many, many efforts, you will be marrying Elissa.”

“It helps if I don’t imagine Father at all,” he stated flatly.

“Fair enough,” Delilah chuckled. “That is exactly what I’m going to do, though.”

They sat conversing for a short while longer, mostly to allow his nerves the time to settle before Liss decided to rejoin them. Then, an idea struck him.

“Delilah?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you might be able to see how Liss might feel about—” he motioned vaguely— “All of this? Discreetly, of course.”

She smirked. “I’ve never seen you so worked up about anything since you found out you had to leave for Starkhaven. It is quite endearing.”

“I am pleased you find my distress endearing,” he said pointedly, “Will you do it, or not?”

“I will.”

“Then I shall go retrieve her,” he said, rising to his feet, “I’ll insist that you two deserve some time alone together.”

“We do,” Delilah admitted with a shrug, “That’s not even a deception.”

Nathaniel made his way slowly towards Liss, who had just lifted up Aidan after helping him to release their frog. He used her distraction to his advantage and rushed forward, sweeping the boy from her arm in one swift motion. She let out a startled gasp that turned into an offended grumble as her eyes fell on him.

“Thief,” she accused with a pout.

“This boy’s mother requires your attention,” he replied, shifting the boy in question to hold propped up on his hip with one arm.

Liss raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Privately?

“Not in particular.” Nathaniel shrugged. “But I figured it would be easier to gossip about me if I am not present.”

Her eyes lit up with mischief and she laughed. “I like the way you think.”

“Anything for you, my lady,” he said, stepping forward, taking her chin in his hand, and tilting it up just enough for him to press a reverent kiss to her lips, heavy with the secret he would someday share.

When he pulled away, she sighed and blinked back at him with misty eyes. She must have felt it, too. “That was—”

“I know,” he said breathlessly, grinning and kissing her forehead this time, “Now go spend time with my sister. She misses you.”

“Okay, okay fine,” she hissed back at him playfully then looked at Aidan, “Hey, tell Uncle Nate what you want to do.”

Aidan grinned and turned to point a little finger at something over Nathaniel’s shoulder. “Quack!”

Liss giggled and Nathaniel turned around to see a small group of ducks congregated at the edge of the water, several feet further down the stream. He glanced back at Liss, then to Aidan. “Shall we go see the ducks, then?”

“Quack, quack,” Aidan replied enthusiastically, body trembling with excitement.

“You heard the man,” said Liss as she knelt down to pick up her shoes, “I wouldn’t keep him waiting if I were you.”

As he watched Liss flash him one last grin before turning to head toward Delilah, and his uncertainty vanished, clouds of doubt dissipating in her wake. It was all he needed.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age origins awakening #nathaniel howe #nathaniel howe x cousland #my writing #ambivalence tag

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wallwriterstuff · 4 years ago

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Teeth || Demetri Volturi x Reader ||

A request from @volturidoll13 that is continued from this headcanon right here ——-> Demetri Reacting to a Stimming Reader <——-. I hope I’ve done you justice once more with this one chickadee :D </b>

Part 2: This fic

Part 3: Control (fic)

Warnings: TW for anxiety. Readers stimming will stem from anxiety, if you are having a rough time with yours right now be careful reading this one, and please know you’re not alone! I guess maybe a warning for biting to? There’s some biting going on.

Words: 2620

Summary: It’s been a little over two months since Demetri discovered your stimming. He’s remained vigilant ever since, keeping your anxiety at bay with a whole host of tips and tricks he’s learned over the course of your time together. The one thing he cannot stop is the march of time, and yours is running out fast…

You weren’t sure what had made you so nervous back then, why Demetri finding about your autism was such a big deal, why you were so afraid your stimming would be an issue between you both, that your anxiety and it’s side effects would somehow ruin his perception of you. In reality, telling Demetri the whole truth had been the best thing you had ever done. His sensitivity was astounding to you, because he really was diligent in checking in with you and keeping things as calm as possible in your now shared room – your baths had become a now weekly occurrence. He never treated you like you were made of porcelain either despite all his little interventions, no, he whole-heartedly encouraged your every attempt to explore and integrate yourself into the Volturi with your new found confidence, but when you needed the support he was always prepared.

Your newfound confidence came with a price.

After just a week of venturing out of your shared room you had been called to the throne room, a terrifying moment in itself given you had met them only once before to explain why you hadn’t been bleeding out with the rest of your tour group on the floor, and Aro had taken your hand with a sickly smile before joyfully exclaiming something in Italian you had had no idea how to go about translating. That was two months ago, and now you had only a single month left to live before you joined them in their immortality, perpetually frozen as you were, never moving forward, never evolving. The concept was terrifying given the stories you’d heard of newborns. You didn’t want to hurt people or be that volatile little newborn who became violent on a whim. You didn’t want to feel the inferno in your throat begging you to commit unspeakable acts of cruelty against a race you were currently still apart of.

A month left of mortality.

A month left before you became someone entirely new.

Felix’s sudden grunt snapped you out of that particular reverie, and you blinked at the bright sunlight invading your eyes despite the shade you had situated yourself in under a twisted old red maple, planted in Didyme’s honour oh so long ago and still going strong thanks to Aro’s tender loving care. They had chosen to sit beneath the branches simply because it made their skin sparkle less, which was far easier on your eyes and far less distracting since you had a tendency to try and rub off Demetri’s sparkles, like they were glitter on his skin you could just remove. Jane was smiling at your giant friend, whose teeth were clenched tight before he suddenly relaxed and shot her a glare.

“Now now children play nicely.” Demetri chided from beside you. He’d been sat a while, smoothly redirecting conversation from you when he saw your attention falter. You had been zoning in and out a lot the past few days, your mind clearly elsewhere. He’d kept half an eye on you as the twins debated a book they’d been reading the past week, Felix teasing them as was his usual manner until Jane caved to the temptation to cripple him with her trademarked glare. You clearly were not okay, but you hadn’t come to him to say as such just yet, so he’d not pressured you into talking. Perhaps after this afternoon he should? You usually jumped at any chance you got to spend time with them all, enjoying the social interaction after the long days you spent either studying Italian or with them absent performing duties you would soon help them undertake.

“What do you think Y/N? You said you’d read The Hunger Games before, what do you think of the idea that the death of Primrose is symbolic of the death of the last of Katniss’s innocence?” Alec questioned. The boy was equally as perceptive as Demetri, having found himself insatiably curious since the day Demetri had quietly spoken with them about it to ensure they didn’t harass you, and consequently had gone on to read everything he could get his hands on about your condition. It was painfully obvious to all of them your head wasn’t in the conversation but none of them brought it up, instead finding ways to lead you seamlessly back into the group when you wandered off. Your brows furrowed as you tried to think over Alec’s question, but your mind was pulled in too many directions at once. You were so focused on the dark thoughts swirling around your future immortality that your mind struggled to conjure the image of the book cover, never mind its contents.

“Erm…I don’t really…she lost it way before that.” You stumbled your way through the answer and it was audible to everyone there the way your teeth clanked together when your jaw clenched. You did your best not to flinch as Demetri cast you a concerned glance. You’d been doing that a lot, your teeth gnashing and grinding as you clenched your jaw over and over. It was a tic he had seen before, though not quite as frequently as this, and it set alarm bells ringing in his head as a thousand articles and memories hit him full force. Alec hummed, not looking entirely like he agreed with you while Jane grinned, triumph in her eyes.

“Ha! See brother, I told you!” she didn’t seemingly notice the way you flinched, teeth gnashing audibly once more at her exclamation. Alec’s face was immediately taken over by a scowl, and the pair were bickering once more while Felix watched on with obvious amusement. Demetri had given you his sole attention instead, tuning out their argument to instead take notice of the way the muscles in your jaw moved, your gaze distant and entirely unfocused as you lost yourself to your thoughts again. He didn’t actually think you were aware of the way your hand moved until he gently snatched it mid-air. You blinked, staring uncomprehendingly at the frozen fingers clasped around your wrist, centimetres from your open mouth that you quickly snapped closed. Demetri made no comment after that, sliding his hand up to intertwine your fingers together and squeeze your palm lightly.

You squeezed back with a weak smile, mentally already berating yourself for your behaviour. You hadn’t even noticed you were about to bite yourself but now you had you could feel the way your jaw ached, the entire lower part of your jaw tense from the amount your stimming had overworked it that afternoon. Demetri soothingly ran his thumb in circles over your knuckles but even his cool touch wasn’t enough to drag you from your misery today. You had less than a month to live and there was so much you wouldn’t get to do after that. You had always wanted to travel to try some of your favourite foods in their home contexts – you could only imagine how good authentic Chinese food would taste. You wanted to sleep in a five-star hotel just to see what a memory foam mattress might do to improve your sleep.

It was all trivial stuff (you were painfully aware since Caius had told you so when you’d brought it up) but they were simple things for your bucket list, you dared not even consider the big dreams you had because they would be impossible once you were-

“Ah ah ah.” Demetri caught your hand again. He still held one in his grip but the other had whipped up to make it’s way into your mouth. You completely disregarded his warning, a burning need inside of you driving your head forward in an effort to clamp your teeth around your finger, sure in the knowledge it would bring some relief if you could manage it. Demetri didn’t let you, and your head quickly turned for his hand instead. He didn’t comment when your teeth almost broke trying to break through his skin. You immediately recoiled, both horrified and mortified at what you had done, but despite the fact you wouldn’t meet his eyes, Demetri pulled you close to his chest and kissed the top of your head.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“What have I told you about apologising to me about this?” he tutted, lifting your chin with one of his index fingers. He quickly had to let go when your hand flashed up to your mouth again, desperate to chew down on something.

“To stop apologising. Sor-er…I…” you cringed, the apology ready to fall from your lips but your fear of disappointing him latching it’s claws into you and making you bite down on your tongue instead.

“You never need to apologise to me for this my love, I love every part of you, even the parts of you you struggle to love yourself.” Demetri assured you quietly. Your teeth began to grind once more because what if he didn’t see you that same way after your change? What if your crimson eyes and still heart were abhorrent to him since he revered your human-self so much?

“Can we go?” you mumbled, your head spinning with all the worrisome thoughts tumbling about it. Demetri searched your face briefly as he nodded, very well aware that this wasn’t something he could encourage you to keep fighting and you needed to tap out now and recover.

“Of course. Excuse us you three.” He glanced to them briefly, knowing they’d have heard your quiet conversation anyway so to lie would be pointless. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at them, too embarrassed by your stimming today to meet their eyes. You’d bitten your vampire mate in front of them, after all.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, keeping your head down as you walked along beside him. Demetri hadn’t let go of one of your hands, squeezing gently every now and then to try and encourage you to channel your anxiety into your hand instead of your mouth. Perhaps he ought to buy you a stressball? You’d liked the last one, though it had disappeared somewhere around the castle and sadly, his gift only worked on people and not tracking down inanimate objects.

“Don’t thank me yet, might I give you some advice?” he enquired. You looked up at him, your expression inviting him warily to speak, though you weren’t sure what he could add since this was your lived experience, and one he had only read about. “As you go to bite down open your mouth a fraction wider, it will allow you to clamp your teeth into a wider surface area and hold your prey stiller.” He advised, half a smirk dancing on his lips. He was failing abysmally at trying to hide it.

“I – excuse me?” you were somewhat astonished he’d given you advice on how to bite yourself better. What happened to your caring mate? The one who did his best to help you calm your anxiety. The one who held your hand on nights it felt like you couldn’t breathe?

“I thought it would be sound advice,” he said, giving up on his efforts now to fight back his smirk, “As my little vampire in training, you need to know how to bite down properly. If I had been your prey just now I would have easily escaped, and you would be left hungry.” You stopped stock still, eyes bugging a bit in your head as your brain just…stopped working.

“What…did you just call me?” you asked. Demetri had walked on ahead as if nothing was wrong, but he paused to turn back towards you now with a shit-eating grin on his face, crimson eyes sparkling.

“My little vampire in training. Unless of course, you would prefer puppy? They chew on things to, no?” he tilted his head at you while your jaw dropped. Just for a brief moment there was clarity in your head, the sheer absurdity of his comment punching through all your anxious thoughts. You felt you should be insulted, was it an insult? Coming from someone other than Demetri maybe it would be but this was the man who listened to every little thought in your head, wiped away every tear and held you while you cried. No, Demetri could never do you harm, whether it was with words or fists he was bound to protect you always, he was incapable of insulting you meaningfully.

“Your little – Demetri!” you scolded. God did your jaw ache. He chuckled.

“Alright alright forgive me…though can I say, I feared your bite far more than Felix’s.” he held out his hand to you and you automatically sidled up to slip your palm against his, Demetri turning you both back in the direction of your shared room before you began to walk once more.

“Felix’s has bitten you?” you asked, your curiosity sparked.

“Oh yes. You see, when I first joined the Guard Felix was assigned to my combat training. He won every round. I, however, am a quick learner, and once I began to pick up his teachings I won my first spar against him quite easily…and the one after that, and the one after that…he gets bitey when he loses.” He revealed. You bit your lip, fighting back a smile as you imagine the hulking man tossed onto his back by your own, lithe tracker. It was a funny enough sight in itself, but adding the image of him lunging with teeth barred to gnaw on your mate was even funnier. It should have been frightening but you knew the gentle giant too well to think he would ever attack his comrades with any malicious intent.

“Alec best watch his back then, he’s getting close to Felix’s high score on Crash Bandicoot.” You mused. Demetri snorted briefly.

“Yet another fun story…Alec once locked himself in his room for three whole days when Jane picked up one of his games and completed a level he’d been stuck on for weeks on her first try.” He told you. Your smile grew a little wider, stretching across your face as you imagined the calmer witch twin throwing said hissy fit. Demetri continued his stories long after you entered your room, laying on his side with you opposite him as he regaled you with one story after another. Aro had once dropped a book on his foot after a late night of studying, looked around to ensure nobody had seen, and stuffed it back on the shelf so fast he had placed it back upside down. Jane had a beautiful singing voice but had been startled so badly by Felix interrupting her once she’d slipped right up the scale on the last word and tortured poor Felix for a whole hour straight for ruining her song.

Story after story you listened, enraptured by his smooth baritone while he played with your hair, soothing your turbulent mind as you focused on his words and his words alone. You might wake up tomorrow and find you were once more trapped in the cycle of anxiety that you were hard-pressed to escape one it got you in it’s clutches, or maybe this blessed moment of relief would last and tomorrow you would be free once more for a little bit longer until the next moment something you felt was too big too manage came along. For today, Demetri had lulled you to sleep against his side, your breathing slow and even for the first time that day. Whatever you had to face next, whatever challenges might come your way, you knew on your worst days Demetri would always be with you to help you overcome them, armed with all the latest mummyblog advice for you to rebuke.

#demetri volturi #tw anxiety #tw biting #demetri volturi x reader #jane volturi #alec volturi #felix volturi #volturi guard #twilight #twilight fanfiction #stimming #i gave my flatmate an aneurysm with this one haha #she studies english literature #she was not impressed with my hottake on katniss #I digress #I imagined Felix looking like puss in boots when his eyes go big when I wrote that bit about him biting demetri #it's been a long week

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yourpakichic · 4 years ago

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Episode 11 thoughts ⁃ A hand hold and a cheek kiss all within the opening scene? Someone call me an ambulance cause I’m dead. Also peep that smug smile on Serkan’s face after grabbing her hand. Sir sit down, you are already doing too much! That’s the most natural skinship scene I’ve seen between these two. Serkan has always looked a little bit uncomfortable with hand holding and other things but that was just so natural and just flowed! ⁃ The lyrics of that song and their expressions throughout were absolute perfection! ⁃ Gosh I really have a love and hate relationship with Aydan. She keeps pushing Selin and Serkan to be together I’m like so over it but on the other hand, she’s had such sweet and heartbreaking scenes and moments and my heart goes out to her. I know she’s a complex character and I love that about her but it’s also so frustrating to watch. ⁃ The similarities and contrasts in Eda/Ceren and Serkan/Engin conversation were so cute. The way Eda is so hopeful and Serkan is still in denial, like y’all need to get it together! Ceren being very straight about Serkan and Eda’s journey and feelings while Engin uses reverse psychology to get Serkan to understand was interesting cause being straight with Serkan never works out. ⁃ Serkan gets his pettiness, attitude, and jealousy tendencies from Aydan and no one can tell me otherwise. ⁃ I will forever love and cherish scenes where he comes to pick her up/drop her off. They might be the smallest scenes but they are the true evidence of their chemistry/attraction. Not to mention they always are witty and playful and shows the way their conversations flow and the little hints of magic their words contain! ⁃ So the grandmother is Ayfer’s mother and clearly they blame her for, I’m assuming, Eda’s parents death which is why they have kept their distance. But from the call Ayfer made, it seems that the grandmother still loves and cares for Ayfer and Eda and will do anything for them. Her entry will absolutely change everything for the family and Serkan/Eda as well! ⁃ “You never worked for me, Eda Yildiz.” Those words. I had to pause and just think. Serkan never considered Eda as his subordinate. She was his equal. To him, she was always a free bird. To come and go as she pleases. He never could or will cage her and I think that is absolutely beautiful and powerful. He acknowledges and accepts her carefree nature and presence and understands that she will fly as she pleases. For Eda, that freedom is necessary and core of her being. To be limited was never Eda’s style. So can you imagine? Being in a relationship where you have complete freedom to be what and who you are without any hesitation with a man who appreciates and loves your talent/knowledge and is always supportive of your endeavors. And that too with Serkan Bolat who has a controlling nature and being. Just need a moment to process that. ⁃ THAT IS GOING TO BE THEIR HOUSE. I’m calling it now. The show NEEDS to end with them in that house with their two robot-like children playing in garden designed by Eda and them over looking that beautiful view from their bedroom. ⁃ Serkan going FULL PANIC over Eda leaving and telling Engin to make her offer was the most pleasing to my eyes. That man out here creating a crisis over this. ⁃ The defeat in his eyes when she tells him to leave her alone. ⁃ Eda claiming her man in front of Selin was top notch! She said girl, I can take care of my man, no need for you. ⁃ The entire Serkan’s sickness scene was just heartbreaking. We knew Serkan had a tragic past and was still suffering because of it but to find out about his trauma was just... I have no words. To be so young, sent away abroad without knowledge about your brother, away from your family. To be left alone so young to grow and work through your trauma all by yourself. No wonder he doesn’t trust anyone. No wonder he doesn’t let anyone in. His own parents abandoned him so young, how is he supposed to rely on anyone else . And he has clearly internalized everything really deep. It’s one thing to have traumatic childhood experiences, but in Serkan’s case, he never worked through it at all. And now as an adult, due to that fact, it manifests itself into actual physical sickness. I literally just wanna give him a hug and make all his problems go away. ⁃ One more thing on this scene, one of my favorite things about their relationship is that despite their differences and previous conflicts, Eda and Serkan can both be easily open and vulnerable with each other when the other needs it. Just how they were sad/angry at the office early, but Eda came to take care of him and not only that, they had a conversation and were so open with each other as they read from the book. To have that openness with someone is just absolutely precious. ⁃ NOT THE WAKING UP WITH EACH OTHER SCENE I WANTED. I DESERVE BETTER! ⁃ Okay. That’s it. I’m never forgiving Aydan for breaking Eda’s heart like that. After everything Eda has done, she deserved to be said goodbye to properly. She made my girl cry after getting what she wants from her. I hope Ayfer goes in on her as their relationship progresses. ⁃ I FUCKING HAD A FEELING LAST WEEK AND THE FACT THAT AND THEY JUST CONFIRMED IT. So last week when we found out about Eda’s parents death, Serkan’s face reaction made a small little voice inside my head go “that’s gonna be related to their relationship and be an obstacle in some way” BUT I DID NOT EXPECT IT TO BE TRUE LIKE THIS! Alptekin is responsible for Eda’s parents death. That is going to be the breaking point for these Eda/Serkan. Serkan already has issues with Alptekin but this is gonna push him over the edge. Also, I do not like the fact Ferit has this vital information. At this moment, I absolutely do not trust Ferit. ⁃ That was Ferit’s breaking point. Being left all alone while prepping for the wedding. I’m pretty sure he’s not gonna go through the wedding and he will blame Serkan for that I can already tell he’s gonna use his position as a shareholder and the secret about Eda’s parents to destroy Serkan. Not to mention, he’s probably gonna find a way to use the fact that Eda covered for him and Selin about the contract leaking to create a conflict. And here I was thinking Kaan would be our biggest problem. ⁃ THAT FINAL SCENE WAS ICONIC AND EVERYTHING. I don’t think they could’ve chosen a more EdSer style to do the confession! After everything they’ve been through and the situation, it would’ve been totally weird to have a sweet, slow confession (yet at least). The arguing, the sunset, the slight hint of humor WERE ABSOLUTE PERFECT DIRECTION FOR THIS CONFESSION! the way he stopped the cab, got her suitcase, straight up told her to not go like multiple times and then said those magic words we’ve been dying to hear AND THEN GRABBED HER AND KISSED HER! Perfection. Just literally got goosebumps and was giggling like a child throughout it!

Overall: THEY ARE OFFICIALLY TOGETHER. That is literally all that matters in the end. Hands off to Kerem and Hande for their amazing acting and expressions, cause this episode was strong solely due to their performance. There was no room for weakness or downplaying any emotion, and man did they deliver every line and every emotion absolutely perfect. We’re finally onto the next phase, which will be going through conflicts and working through family issues which is going to very exciting but also filled with angst. As per the 2 previews, the next episode seems to have a lot to offer: their romantic scenes, the bolats learning about Eda, Ayfer confronting Serkan, and of course Selin/Ferit wedding. Tbh, I am no nervous for this next part because how they choose to handle Serkan/Eda and portray their relationship at this new starting point is so important in solidifying their bond and their love.

I’m going to be mess until all these issues resolve and I already don’t have good coping mechanisms!

#sen cal kapimi #hande erçel #kerem bürsin #eda yildiz #serkan bolat #knock on my door #edser #turkish dizi #I literally am not going to survive the next couple of episodes #sen çal kapımı

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booksandwords · 3 years ago

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Invision by Sherrilyn McQueen

Series: Chronicles of Nick, #7 Read time: 1 Day Rating: 5/5

The quote: “Well, aren’t you a cheeky one?” “So says my father. It’s ever a fault of mine that I don’t know my place. But who better to know my place than I, says I? And who so better to determine it? For I will not be hemmed in by anyone else’s expectations. This is my life, such as it is. And it will be lived under my rules so long as I have it.” — Caleb Malphas & Lilliana

I am not tagging this with a spoiler warning but read on at your own risk. Invision (and this review) contain spoilers for the wider Dark-Hunter verse.

Let's start with something important to those reading Chronicles of Nick and The Dark Hunter Universe. I'm not sure where Sherri is up to in her story of Jaden in the DH books (I'm picking and choosing my way through them), but I know Jaden is an upcoming book that should lay his story bare. Invision may contain massive spoilers for Jaden's book. That reason only Jared knows? Yeah, that is in here and that piece of lore is unlikely to change between the two. Most of the spoilers I tag in this review are relevant to not just Invision but Jaden. If you want to go into Jaden's story without prior knowledge do not read Invision. And I apologise in advance this review gets quite long.

This is another book with a whole lot of story to tell. And it leads well into Intensity, the last book of the series. Well may not be the right word it ends on a cliffhanger. There is a lot of lore added, we finally get an explanation of pith points in a way that makes sense. We meet some new characters and learn a lot pf backstory on some of the characters that we already knew. But there is a lot of time spent on family and found family as is normal. It turns out that even less of the characters than we thought are strictly human. I enjoyed this a lot it helps me understand a lot more and I live for Sherri's lore.

My queen is back. Hello, my beloved Lilliana. Never has a character so long dead had such a lasting and irrefutable impact on a series while barely appearing. Xevikan's Myone is also a powerful woman. We finally find out how Caleb met Lilliana met. Including the wonderful exchange "Are all demons as gigantic as you?" "Depends on the species." "Are all women as brave as you?" "Depends on the species." (Lilliana & Caleb Malphas, p62). She chose his name because of its meaning "the faithful, fearless warrior who defends what he believes with everything he has" (Lilliana, p66), which isn't far off the Hebrew meaning. Myone was Xev's anchor his reason for existence the reason he was willing to do so much. His story isn't this dissimilar to Braiths in a way. Blessedly the brothers are back on speaking terms.

Book random dump

Reading Cay openly admit brotherhood with Xev is something I needed to see and made me smile.

"I think I know now why the gods made the two of you so incredibly hot. You'd be insufferable otherwise" Kody (p.85) about Caleb and Nick. I mean I can totally see why people tell Kody to ask her other boyfriend. She stopped pretending a while back.

I like the choice to interchange Kody and Nyira now. But what is Nyira? It doesn't appear to be a name.

This is the first time I've seen any indication that Simi will get her own story. Kody knows who her husband will be. There were only three options in the room at that point. Jaden, Xev or Caleb. All will exist is the DH universe. Jaden needs good in his life. I'll take that and run.

Cadegan is more complicated than I thought. In his bio he calls Thorn his lost brother, Noir gives aways his parentage Thorn is his father. Well, Son of No One just got bumped up my tbr.

Is this the first time we've heard Caleb's full designation? Esme Daeve. Like Nick thrives on fights, rage.

Bout time we got a demon hunter. Didn't expect that character though.

“He was a chaos god, Nick. The god of blood disease, fire, plagues, famine, violent death, fear, and destruction.” (Caleb p.175) Good lord Xev. You really did get all the fun stuff, and he's the Malachai's blood slave.

As a side point, I'm adding a could of pieces of general tidbits because I keep forgetting them.

The six generals of the ušumgallu. Grim, Bane and Laguerre who live permanently earthside. The others who had to be called, Xevikan, Livia and Yrre.

Nick's six generals (chosen at the end of Instinct). "Nashira. Xev. Dagon. Aeron. Kody. Caleb." Narshira is the yōkai formerly trapped in Nick's Grimoire. Aeron the forgotten son of the Morrígan. Dagon, son of Noir and Hekate, aided Lycaon to create the Were-hunters.

The six primal gods. Those of the light; Razer, Cam and Verlyn (aka Jaden). Those of the dark; Noir, Azure and Braith. Braith is complicated, while she aligns to the dark she is more grey. Two of the primary gods are missing; Razer and Braith. Verlyn was captured. Making me wonder... is Razer in play already and just not revealing his identity. Cam is Menyara, Verlyn is Jaden both are known in DH but their identities aren't known.

So... Parentage. Who is related to who is a big deal in the CoN series. But relatives are power and mostly seem to be an indicator of where your allegiance should lie. There is a theme that appears of the abandoned half children acting out of spite for one parent at least until they find themselves. As Xev puts it “Born of both sides. Forever lured between them. Never trusted by either, and cursed by both.” (p.287). Nick's line is particularly important. Did anyone else not realise that Xev was Nick's Grandfather during that wonderful bomb drop during Chapter 8 of Instinct? I reread it knowing the truth and yeah the indication is there. Mostly in the way he looks at Cherise, maybe she favours Myone more than we know and in the way he speaks. But it isn't said. And I really think it needed to be. In light of this and other revelations halfway through Invision, I decided I needed to make a small family tree because good lord this should not be that complicated but it feels like it is. I think there are minor allusions to Nick's tree somehow being connected to Kody's (through the primordials) but I can't figure it out. I'm writing this after I binge-read Intensity which adds a whole lot more so I'm adding it to that review instead. Beware spoilers if you go there.

One last thing from Dream Warrior... “I’m helping to train the new Malachai and I just wanted to know something.” “That is?” “Does anyone else know you’re related to him?” (Jared and M'Adoc, p.314). By Dream Warrior Nick is in his mid-twenties and everyone knows he's the Malachai. My question which is not answered there. Does Jared know? He's powerful and Nick is his blood he should be able to pick it. I've always thought Dark Hunter was the Ambrose timeline but I don't think it is. Theoretically, M'Adoc doesn't exist in that timeline.

God this review is long. I knew that anyway. My Goodreads review does have the worst of the potential Dark-Hunter spoilers, they relate to Jaden.

#invision #sherrilyn mcqueen #book review #chronicles of nick #sherrilyn kenyon #omg lilliana my queen i love so much #spoilers on goodreads #ktreviews #read 2021 #younglings

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karajaynetoday · 4 years ago

Text

everybody's got their demons, even wide awake or dreaming | part one

Photo credit: Jess Gleeson

Hello friends! Hope you’re having a lovely day wherever you are in the world. Thank you to everyone who voted in my little Google form thing on what they’d like to see me write next. Here’s Part One of my 5SOS x music journalist story. It’s a little angsty, and as the first chapter this is a lot of introduction to the OC and her story, but I hope you like it! It’s the first time I’ve written an OC into a fic, so I’d love to know your thoughts and if you’re interested in reading more about Lizzie and her adventures interviewing 5SOS.

Shout outs to @wheniminouterspace and @calumrose for helping me sense-check this concept, and @spicycal for giving me feedback on it in its draft stages. You’re all gems!

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Fem!OC, minor swearing

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

Lizzie Lawson was having a bit of a day. Her train had been late, she dropped her coffee moments after receiving it from the cute barista downstairs (and broke her favourite keep cup in the process), and her work computer had decided to run updates the moment she sat down at her desk. Maybe she shouldn’t have bothered to get out of bed this morning.

Her colleagues were tapping away at their keyboards, answering phone calls, and discussing upcoming story ideas with each other - the usual tasks, especially for a Monday morning. Lizzie, computerless and caffeine deprived, had to settle for a cup of instant coffee from the kitchenette, and had taken to tidying up her desk while her computer was restarting over and over again but still somehow not ready for use. She was on the floor, sorting through the snacks in her bottom desk drawer (crackers that were two months’ past their expiry date, some gummy worms, and what seemed like hundreds of cans of tuna) when James, the music editor, stuck his head out of his office and called for her.

“Lawson! Where are you?” James sounded confused. He could’ve sworn he’d seen Lizzie at her desk moments ago, and then suddenly she popped her head up like a meerkat.

“Jimbo! Here. What’s crack-a-lackin?” Lizzie responded, standing up and brushing herself off as she headed towards where James was standing in his office doorway.

“Got a pitch for ya. Step into my office, if you’re finished with your spring clean.” James chuckled as he stepped back inside and sat down on the couch opposite his desk.

A number of journalism awards were displayed on the shelf above the couch, and the floor to ceiling window overlooked Sydney’s CBD and its tall, grey buildings, with a glimpse of the harbour ocean in the distance. Lizzie had to admit she’d imagined herself in James’ desk chair more than a few times; the music editor of one of Australia’s leading youth and pop culture publishing companies, regularly travelling the world to interview award-winning artists, and assigning and guiding well-crafted investigative pieces on the entertainment industry and those within in.

But, in reality, Lizzie had only recently worked her way up to being in the music department, after a couple of years on the news desk and a series of casual internships at different publications around the place. But music journalism, and the passion she had for live performances and watching artists grow and develop their sounds and aesthetics over their careers, was where Lizzie had always wanted her career to go. She was grateful to James for having her on the team, but she also knew that he didn’t recruit just anyone - so her writing must’ve been strong enough to get her here. James was a good boss, salt of the earth, always had his team’s back, but he was also a little mysterious, and this morning’s meeting was one of those where his face was giving absolutely nothing away as Lizzie joined him on the couch in the office.

“So, what’s up?” Lizzie said, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.

“Well, Lawson. You’ve only been on deck for a few months, but turns out my gut instinct about you has paid off. That profile you did on the 1975 last month has gotten some good feedback and traction out and about.” James spoke in a measured tone, pulling his laptop off the coffee table and opening it.

“Oh! Well, that’s… good, right?” Lizzie still couldn’t figure out exactly why she was in James’ office. Or why she was so nervous.

“Correct, it is good. It’s been great to see you come into your own a little bit, and develop your interview style. I also really appreciated you stepping in to cover the Matt Corby interview for Hannah the other day, when she had that stomach bug.” James continued, seemingly searching for an email or something on his laptop as he spoke.

“No worries! Hannah’s notes were really thorough, plus I definitely had a Matt Corby phase when he was on Australian Idol back in 2006! Oof, that fringe, you know?” Lizzie cringed internally when she heard herself starting to babble.

James snorted, before clearing his throat. “I’m sure Matt was glad the 2006 hairstyle didn’t take up too many words in the final profile piece. He was pretty happy with it though, and his management were too, according to the label. So happy, in fact, that they’re requested you to profile another one of their artists.”

James had Lizzie’s full attention now, and she still couldn’t read his expression. “Really? Me? Who’s the artist?” She asked, trying not to get too excited too soon.

“Yes, indeed, you. 5 Seconds of Summer, or 5SOS. They’ve got a new album due out in a month or so, and their publicist is keen to fly you out to LA for a few weeks to follow them around while they wrap things up in the studio, and do a profile piece on their journey to date. Are you familiar with their stuff? They’re offering us an exclusive, something about the album being linked to their homeland or something, so they wanted to go with an Australian media outlet first.” James set his laptop back down on the coffee table and angled it so Lizzie could see an email on the screen that had a few lines of text and a photo of a band onstage.

5SOS. Was Lizzie familiar? Oh yes, she was familiar. Lizzie Lawson hailed from the western suburbs, and 5SOS was the area’s biggest success story. Aussie boys made good, with millions of albums sold, billions of song streams, thousands of concerts played all around the world, that was their career to date. But for Lizzie, 5SOS were always a bit closer to home. She’d attended the same high school as three of the band members, and Michael Clifford was someone she called her best friend, once upon a time. Ashton had also befriended Lizzie’s older brother Lachlan when they’d worked together at KFC. That was years ago now, and they’d all fallen out of touch, because sometimes that’s just the way the universe works. You grow up and you move on and you don’t keep the same friends, because sometimes they move to the other side of the world and get super famous as successful musicians. Or something like that. Even if they know your deepest secrets, or biggest fears, or hopes and dreams, or you trust them more than anything, sometimes they still leave you.

Lizzie’s previous state of intrigue quickly became panic, because what if she wasn’t actually being chosen based on the merit of her work? What if the 5SOS team knew about her connection to the band, and were going to use it to manipulate her writing in some way? What if it was all a ploy to get her and Michael in the same room so he could finally call her out on what had gone down between them all those years ago? What if -

“Lawson! You on planet earth still, or wait?” James snapped his fingers in front of Lizzie’s face to get her attention. She shook her head to clear it, and wrung her hands together in her lap.

“Yep, I’m familiar with their work. A little fuzzy on the most recent work, but I have a bit of knowledge on a lot of their early stuff. And Youngblood, of course. Everyone knows Youngblood. ARIA song of the year, a billion streams, etc etc.” Lizzie spoke, meeting James’ gaze as he cocked his head at her curiously. He knew Lizzie had a tendency to get a little nervous when she was put on the spot, but there was something about her right now that was a little more unsettled than usual that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Good. Well, if you’re down, the label will cover three weeks accommodation in Los Angeles. Labels don’t usually do that kind of thing, but their manager is super keen for you to get enough quality time with the band to build up a solid profile piece. We’ll cover your daily expenses, I’ll send you instructions for the claiming app, and then we just need your passport to get the flights booked. Sound okay?”

“Y-yep. Yes. Okay. Right. When would I be leaving?” Lizzie pinched her thigh through her jeans to double check that she wasn’t dreaming, and that yes, this was actually happening.

“Friday midday. We’ll put some feelers out in LA, and see if there’s any other interviews you can do while you’re there, but your focus will be on 5SOS because they’re picking up the bill for your stay. But that being said, don’t let that sway what you write. They’ve requested you because they like your deep, detailed, open style of profiling, so don’t be afraid to ask some curly questions to get the answers that will craft the right piece, you know?” James spoke firmly, looking pointedly at Lizzie who quickly nodded in response.

“Right, well, I’ll cc you into this email chain with their publicist and manager, and we’ll go from there. You can hand over your other pieces to Hannah, you’ll need to spend the next few days prepping for LA and doing whatever research you need to feel ready. You’ve got this, Lizzie. I know you can do a great job.” James was trying to be encouraging, as he stood up and opened the door to his office, but Lizzie’s heart was pounding with nerves and she barely hear his words.

She walked back to her desk in a daze, and Hannah had to literally poke Lizzie in her side to get her attention and ask what James had said in the meeting. A few excited squeals and a bear hug later, Hannah was off and running talking about lists of things Lizzie needed to organise before her international adventure was due to begin in a few days’ time. Lizzie, on the other hand, still couldn’t believe it. What the fuck was happening?

The next few days flew by in a haze of emails, life admin, last minute shopping trips and a lot of deep breathing on Lizzie’s part, and before she knew it, she was wrangling her suitcase out of an Uber and into the international terminal at Sydney Airport. Lizzie, as a generally anxious person, had arrived the full three hours early for her flight, but her parents had treated her to a flight lounge guest pass (because they wanted her to know they were proud), so she was able to deal with her nerves by eating far too many complimentary croissants and hash browns.

Soon enough, the time to board the plane arrived, and Lizzie was grateful that she ended up in an empty row of seats, by some miracle. Praise be to the airline gods, or whichever higher power had decided she’d be able to at least try and get some sleep in the next fourteen hours. She’d set her phone and watch forward to Los Angeles time, so she could try and adjust her body clock accordingly, which meant that she’d have to stay up for a few hours at least.

Lizzie tried to be productive, and tapped away at her research notes on her laptop for a little while, before she found herself opening up the band’s instagram page in her browser. The four men staring back at Lizzie through the screen seemed a million miles away from the gangly, excitable teenagers she’d known all those years ago. There was an interesting intensity about them in the photograph, steely gazes and defined bodies under carefully selected clothing, but there was also a peacefulness in their poses beside one another. Like being together, in this moment captured minutes before heading onstage, was the most natural thing in the world. Lizzie found her eyes drawn towards Michael; his dirty blonde hair swept across his forehead (not dissimilar to the style he’d had in their high school days, to be honest), and it was accompanied by some scruffy facial hair and a dangly cross earring in one ear. His grey-green eyes seemed to peer right into her soul, and Lizzie involuntarily shivered at the thought of seeing him again in person in a day or so.

She was still anxious about whether or not this entire thing was a scam, but nonetheless, she was going to try her darndest to be a consummate professional, and write the best profile story of her life. In her research, Lizzie had reviewed some previous 5SOS interviews, and she’d cringed her way through their Rolling Stone interview from many years prior. She remembered reading it at the time it was published, unable to believe some of the words attributed to the boys she’d once called her friends, and the intense aftermath that followed. Understandably, they’d avoided in-depth profile interviews since, so Lizzie was incredibly curious as to why they’d changed their mind. Why now? Why her? She closed her laptop and drifted into sleep, curled up across three airplane seats and tucked under a thin blanket.

Lizzie’s shoulders and neck were stiff when she awoke, an hour or so before her flight was due to land. She used the in-flight wifi to check her emails quickly, and noted a new one from 5SOS’s publicist Danielle, which welcomed Lizzie to Los Angeles and explained that she should catch a taxi to her accommodation at the address listed, and that she should give her a call once she was checked in. Right. That seemed straight forward enough.

LAX customs were intimidating as ever (god, Lizzie was so nervous), but Lizzie made it through without incident and was able to quickly make her way into a cab with a driver who seemed familiar with her accommodation address. They drove her to a boutique-looking hotel, and when Lizzie checked in and made her way up to her room, she was pleasantly surprised at how nice it was. A queen-sized bed, a good desk for working at, a nice view from her balcony of the Hollywood Hills, a small kitchenette with a fridge and microwave, and a glorious bathroom that had a very enticing bath tub in it (Lizzie’s shoulders and neck were already thankful for the idea of being able to soak in some nice hot water for a while).

After checking the room for serial killers (better to be safe than sorry, right?) Lizzie had a quick shower and changed out of her travel trackies and oversized hoodie into a pair of jeans, a clean shirt and a blazer, before opening up her phone and scrolling down to Danielle’s contact. A few deep breaths were required before Lizzie built up the courage to press “call”.

“This is Danielle!” A cheery American accent answered on the other end of the line.

“H-hi Danielle, this is Lizzie, from Junkee Australia. You said in my email I should give you a call once I was all checked in, and I am, so…” Lizzie found herself giggling nervously and facepalmed.

“Lizzie, of course! How was your flight? Long and boring?”

“Yep, that about sums it up!” Danielle’s enthusiasm made Lizzie feel like she had to perk herself up a bit in conversation.

“Well, I’m sure you’re gagging for a nap, but we’ve got to get you adjusted to the timezone so we can make the most of your time here. I’m just finishing up something in the office, but I can swing by your hotel in about 45 minutes, and we can go over your story pitch and the band schedule for the next few weeks, and figure out your interview time slots and other things you can go along to observe, if that works for you?” Lizzie could hear Danielle’s keyboard clacking as she spoke.

“Sure, well, you have my number now, so just text me when you get here. I’ll try my best not to nap in the meantime.” Lizzie’s somewhat dry response got a laugh out of Danielle, who agreed and bid her farewell, ending the call.

Placing her phone down on the bedside table, Lizzie looked around the hotel room that was set to be her home away from home for the better part of the next month, and spotted a coffee machine on top of the mini fridge. If she was really going to keep her no-nap promise, caffeine was definitely in order.

True to her word, Danielle arrived at the hotel within the hour, and soon Lizzie found herself sat beside Danielle on a fancy couch tucked in a corner of the hotel lobby. Danielle had opened up her laptop, and also pulled a plastic folder of documents out of her tote bag.

“Okay, so… I’m sure you’ve done your own research, but here’s a few hard copies of the band bio, album press release, and a few other tidbits from the label, along with a hard copy of the band schedule. It’s all confidential and coded, the electronic version I’ve emailed you will have the proper locations for everything, but I thought a print out might be handy anyway. The boys are recording some stuff at the studio Calum has at his house tomorrow, so I figured we could introduce you there and then after that figure out what else you’d like to get done. There’s an industry showcase for some of the new songs at the end of the week, and then they’re doing various promo and album prep things, finalising mixes, photoshoots, etc, so there’s a bit of variety for you. Any initial thoughts on how you want to do the interviews for your profile?” Danielle rattled off, gazing at Lizzie expectantly when she finished speaking.

Lizzie blinked at her a few times before collecting herself. “In my research, I found it really interesting to hear the band and some of the fans talking about how 5SOS has evolved into the collective effort of four individual artists, not just the band as one artistic music entity, so I was hoping, if possible, to interview them individually, as well as observing them as a group. Would.. Would that be okay, do you think?”

Danielle pursed her lips, before breaking out into a smile.

“I think that sounds exactly like something the band would be willing to do. Damn, Matt Emsell was right - you do know your stuff.” She chuckled, handing the folder of documents over to Lizzie and pulling out the schedule that was on top.

“So studio at Calum’s tomorrow from 10am, I’ll swing by and collect you so we can do introductions, I’ll stick around for a bit just to make sure you’re all good but otherwise I’m just going to let you do your thing. The band have been doing this for long enough now, they don’t need their publicist hovering.”

The curiosity was killing Lizzie. She couldn’t not ask.

“Danielle, I’ve got to ask this, sorry. Do the band… know me? Know that I’m the one coming to interview them?” Lizzie managed to get out, avoiding eye contact.

“What do you mean?” Danielle cocked her head to one side, clearly confused at the question. “I sent them the Matt Corby piece you did, and they liked that, so that was one of the reasons we asked you out here. So they’re familiar with your work, if that’s what you’re asking?”

“No, um… oh god, I’ve made this super awkward now.” Lizzie laughed dryly, wringing her hands together. “I mean, I know them. Personally. Or at least I used to. I’m from Sydney, and I went to school with Luke, and Calum, and… Michael. So I was just wondering, um, if they realised that it was me and that was part of why I was asked to come to LA for this…Not really sure why that would make them choose me, but I just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page before tomorrow.” Lizzie finally dared to look up at Danielle, whose expression was unreadable.

“Hmm, well, that is interesting. As far as I know, that wasn’t a factor at all. We all genuinely liked your writing style, so whether or not the boys made the connection, I have no idea. They’re not super keen on any irrelevant personal life stuff making it into this piece though, so if this is going to be a problem for you, we should deal with it now.” Her tone was slightly less warm than before, and Lizzie could sense the protective publicist side of Danielle kicking in.

“Definitely not a problem. I entirely intend to be fully professional, and like you said, my writing will speak for itself. Just wanted to put it all out there. Not a problem for me.” Lizzie spoke up, willing herself to sound more confident than she felt.

“Good. We have no problems here then. I’ve got to run, but text me with any questions, otherwise I’ll see you at 9.30am tomorrow for the drive to Calum’s!” Danielle’s tone was nice and bright again, as she shut her laptop and gathered her belongings, patting Lizzie’s shoulder in what she assumed was some sort of attempt at calming her nerves.

It didn’t work though. Not a problem for Lizzie? Bullshit. Not a problem for 5SOS, and Michael in particular? Seemed unlikely.

Lizzie was worried she’d have a restless night’s sleep because of her overwhelming anxiety about the next day’s reunion, but the exhaustion from her travelling overtook her and she almost slept through her alarm. A quick shower and a shot of espresso later and Lizzie was downstairs waiting for Danielle to pick her up to head over to meet the band.

“Morning! How’d you sleep?” Danielle chirped as she rolled into the car park, her car window down.

“Very deeply, thank you! The room is really comfortable. Thanks again for organising.” Lizzie mentally urged herself to keep up the small talk as a way of hiding her nerves.

The car ride over was mostly quiet, but when they pulled up outside of what Lizzie assumed was Calum’s house, she definitely felt like she was about to vomit.

“Just so you know, I flagged our conversation last night with the band. About your pitch around the individual interviews, and also about your little… connection to them. Ashton didn’t seem to think it was a problem, so it should all be fine.” Danielle mused, as she opened her car door and hopped out. All Lizzie could do was nod, because her throat was dry and she was starting to panic. She blindly followed Danielle through the front gate and around the side of the house to a building in the backyard, Lizzie strained to hear what sounded like raised, male voices floating towards them as they approached. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it didn’t entirely sound positive.

Danielle knocked loudly on the door and shot Lizzie a reassuring smile, before the shouting subsided and it swung open. Calum Hood stood in the doorway, and Lizzie sucked in a breath. It’d been eight years, maybe more since she’d last seen Calum, and even then, had they spoken? She couldn’t remember.

Calum smiled at Danielle, and then his eyes flickered over to Lizzie, not quite carrying the same happiness, but not entirely losing it either.

“Morning, ladies. Welcome to casa di Calum, come on in.” He spoke with that scratchy, deep voice of his that Lizzie had reacquainted herself with when watching hours of interviews during her research.

Danielle stepped passed Calum into the room, and she indicated for Lizzie to follow, which she did. Lizzie could feel Calum’s gaze on her as she brushed past him, but the minute she stepped inside, any sense of warmth or welcome she’d felt before vanished.

Luke and Ashton were standing over by the sound recording panel, turning to look at Lizzie and Danielle as they entered. Lizzie thought she saw a hint of a smile on Luke’s face (they had survived Year 8 Maths together, after all… that had to count for something, right?), but Ashton was unreadable.

Entirely obvious, though, was the look of bitter disdain on Michael Clifford’s face when Lizzie finally spotted him hunched over on the couch along the wall. Those grey-green eyes were staring her down with a harsh glare. It had familiarity about it, Lizzie realised, but not in a good way.

Danielle cleared her throat in the silence, and turned to Lizzie.

“Well, I believe introductions might not be required, but in the interest of professionalism and courtesy - “ Lizzie didn’t miss Danielle’s pointed glance towards Michael, who was still scowling silently towards everyone - “Lizzie Lawson from Junkee, I would like you to meet Calum Hood, Ashton Irwin, Luke Hemmings and Michael Clifford, also collectively known as 5 Seconds of Summer or 5SOS.”

Lizzie waved, and then immediately cursed herself for being so goddamn awkward. She received a nod of recognition from Ashton, and small smiles from Luke and Calum. From Michael, more scowling. This was going to be a long three weeks.

“So, Lizzie, why don’t you go through the pitch for the profile that we discussed yesterday? The boys already have a bit of an idea, but I’m sure they’d love to hear it from you.” Danielle was being overly encouraging, but it worked, and Lizzie took a deep breath before speaking.

“Thanks, Danielle. And thank you to you guys, honestly. I know this is a little strange for all of us -”

“Fucking oath it is.” Lizzie heard Michael mutter under his breath, but she continued, undeterred.

“But, I’m really excited to have the opportunity to interview you and pull together this story. Especially on behalf of the Australian music media. I know they haven’t always given you the recognition you deserve, but I think this piece is a chance to overcome that. Anyway, the specific pitch I’d love to go with is reflective of you as individual artists, as well as the collective band group. If it’s suitable, it’d be great to have the chance to speak to each of you one-on-one as well as a group, to give a holistic view of your journeys as people and as musicians and what you’re trying to achieve with this album. So… yeah…” Lizzie trailed off nervously, clenching her hands at her sides.

“I love it. We’re happy you’re here, Lizzie. I really loved the Matt Corby piece Danielle sent us, and like you said, it was really important for us to have the perspective of an Australian journalist for this story and where we’re at right now.” Ashton’s calm voice broke the silence, as he nodded at Lizzie in agreeance. Luke and Calum nodded too, and Lizzie tried not to look towards Michael because no doubt he was still glaring at her.

“Great! Everyone’s on the same page. I have to dash off to a meeting, but Lizzie has my number if she needs it, otherwise all of you please behave and don’t scare her off, nor say anything that means I’ll have to destroy her tape recorder. Sound good? Good!” Danielle rattled off quickly, moving out the door and shutting it behind her.

The tension in the air was thick, and it was all seething from Michael’s direction towards Lizzie. She closed her eyes for a moment, before reaching into her bag and pulling out her phone, notebook and pen. She spotted a chair behind her, and turned back towards Luke and Ashton.

“Well, where do you want to start? A group sit down, some general thoughts on the journey so far and what the album experience has been like?” Lizzie offered, trying to make herself sound enthusiastic, but also in control and like she knew what she was doing.

Luke, Calum and Ashton all murmured in agreeance, and moved themselves over to sit by Michael on the couch, while Lizzie dragged the chair she’d spotted over to sit facing them.

“Right. All good if I audio record this?” She asked, hitting record on her voicenotes app after three heads nodded at her.

“So, the album. Where did it begin? Did anyone or anything influence or kick off the sonic direction or the start of the exploratory process?”

The conversation was flowing quite well, Lizzie though. Ashton dominated most of the responses to her questions, but Luke and Calum chipped in their perspectives throughout. Michael didn’t say a word, even when Calum poked him in the side, and instead of glaring at Lizzie he was now staring blankly at the wall over her shoulder. An improvement, sort of, but still not ideal from a journalist and interviewee perspective, let alone when the interviewee was someone who used to be Lizzie’s best friend.

Before she knew it, an hour had past, and Ashton stood, remembering a meeting they had scheduled with the label and their management team, and bringing the interview to a close.

As Lizzie was packing up her equipment, she cautiously brought up the topic of the one on one interviews.

“So, does anyone in particular have free time in the next few days, so I can start on the individual profiling part of the story?” Lizzie asked, her tone hopeful.

Michael’s response was to push straight past her and walk out of the studio, muttering to himself and slamming the door as he went. The loud noise made Lizzie flinch, and she realised her heart was racing and her hands were a little shaky.

“I’ve got time, LL Cool J. I’ll meet you at Joan’s on Third for lunch, say 1pm?” Lizzie smiled at the pld nickname Calum slipped into his quiet response to her question.

“Works for me, C Dizzle Swizzle. Thanks again for your time today, I really appreciate it. Not to sound like a broken record, but I’m really excited for this piece and the chance to tell your story.” Lizzie found herself grinning like an idiot as she met Calum’s warm gaze, and noted that Ashton and Luke were also smiling at her.

“We’re excited too, Lizzie. Even if… some of us might not quite be as enthusiastic as they should be. But, don’t worry. He’ll come round.” It was Luke that spoke this time, his striking blue eyes somehow staring straight into Lizzie’s soul as he looked at her.

“Here’s hoping.” Lizzie tried not to sound too dull in her response, but it was a challenge.

Because honestly, how the fuck was she going to do a profile on all four members of 5 Seconds of Summer, if one of them could barely stand being in the same room as her?

Time will tell, Lizzie thought to herself as she walked out of the door to Calum’s studio and into the warm California sunlight. Time will tell.

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#5sos imagine #5sos fanfiction #my writing #ashton irwin imagine #luke hemmings imagine #calum hood imagine #michael clifford imagine #5sos blurb #ashton irwin fanfiction #luke hemmings fanfiction #calum hood fanfiction #michael clifford fanfiction #whew this is the longest thing i've written so far #hope you like it #it's fine if you don't tho #the posting anxiety is REAL omg

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sidecarghost · 4 years ago

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My Spn Crack Ending in 3 ACTS + 1 BONUS ACT

This ending is the current iteration as of August, 2020 of my crack, clown wishlist ending. Probably could argue the only thing canon is the names of characters. This is just my attempt to make coherent my wishes and other beautiful, wild fandom wishes I’ve heard. And I think actual finale will be prob be different but also wonderful.

CRACK RECAP of stuff in episode before finale

Chuck gives up writing and goes back to gardening with Joshua

TFW celebrate the victory of getting Chuck to leave them alone, and happy Castiel gets claimed (dies) by the Empty

Finale Episode

All about revamping the broken afterlife system that has been failing

ACT 1 (Prep for the Empty)

Dean needs to bust into Empty to save Cas

Sam finds a spell in one of the Bunkers books for making an enchanted Zoom meeting

The enchantment allows Sam and Dean to have Zoom session with Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, and the Veil

Sam and Dean talk to all the chosen family they have made over the season

Zoom Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex, and Patience are excited to help in any plan that Sam & Dean come up with and suggest they talk to Kevin Tran

Kevin Tran says he doesn’t have any knowledge on the empty but if they find any tablets he might be able to translate, maybe someone in Hell can help

Rowena is brought into the meeting and she says hello boys Sam tells her the spell saved Eileen and Rowena is a proud auntie. She wants to help too, have they tried asking some of the friends they know in Heaven maybe they can sneak into Naomi’s files for intel on Empty

Bobby, Charlie, Ellen, Jo, Pamela, and Ash appear on Zoom meeting. Ash mentions that Jack had come by while Dumah was running things with some humans turned angels and since the Empty is only for angels and demons maybe they can get some angels created to rescue Castiel. The rest of the Heaven group is very excited about this idea

Dean is out-of-his-mind excited about being able to lead a squadron of angels to save Castiel and convinces Jack to transform him into angel along with his found family members that had fallen and are now souls in a failing Heaven

Sam supports his brother Dean and they have sweet brother moment bonding moment before Jack does magic to turn Dean into an angel

Sam thinks they should try calling Amara too since they need every ally they can get. Chuck is out of the question but the Darkness may help.

Amara is always fond of Dean so she is happy to help.

Then Dean and Jack head to Heaven and offer choice to hunter souls (Charlie, Bobby, Jo, Ellen, Pamela, Ash, etc...) to also become angels

ACT 2 (Rescue in the Empty)

Angel!Dean storms Empty to rescue Castiel with his hunter angel squadron and other cosmically powered friends

Jack, Amara, and Dean talk to the Cosmic Entity and convince CE to build a better afterlife for the entities in in the Empty.

Amara listens to and empathizes with Shadow, Amara understands loneliness and rage from her eons locked away by Chuck. She tells Shadow that their past doesn’t need to control their present.

Amara helps Shadow see the potential for beauty and wonder in the void of the Empty.

Darkness and Shadow create a new world in the Empty for angels and demons.

ACT 3 (Heaven Restored)

Castiel is resurrected as angel in Heaven.

Heaven as office bureaucracy is demolished and is fully powered by the replenishment of Angels.

Jack offers souls that come to Heaven choice of being transformed into an Angel or resting in peace in paradise.

Angel!Charlie becomes queen of Heaven

Because Charlie was effective queen during LARP episode so most qualified of the hunters

Charlie opens the gates of Heaven so souls are free to roam between each other’s paradises and revisit Earth as they choose (without fear of going insane)

Angel!Ellen and Angel!Jo reopen up roadhouse bar on Earth

Angel!Bobby works at the roadhouse bar handing out jobs to angels to do good works in the world and works with Sam and Eileen to partner angels and human hunters

Castiel mentors the new Hunter angels

Dean is bartender and also has Led Zepplin cover band with Adam/Michael, Gabriel, and reformed Chuck.

Jack also gets to travel between Heaven, Hell, Earth, and Empty to visit his family and friends.

Everything seems ready for happy ending BUT THEN

BONUS ACT 4 (Lucifer's return for reasons)

Sam prays to Angel!Dean frantically to tell him Lucifer had snuck out and escaped the Empty during Dean's siege

Lucifer is in the bunker and randomly drives off with Baby

Dean has no choice but to destroy Baby to stop Lucifer

Now Dean drives the little AU!Sam and Dean car whenever he's on Earth

Dean is very sad about losing Baby, so ending is bittersweet, sad, and poignant.

As Baby burns to ash the large chosen family of the Winchesters all gather around the bonfire to commiserate the end of Baby while classic rock ballad plays.

The final chord of the song finishes.

Then black out.

Threads wrapped up by above clowning

Sam and Dean have moved on from the hunter lifestyle that fate and their father had forced upon them. But helping people is still a part of who they are, so now they continue to do good work on their own terms.

Dean

fulfills Deaths plan of fixing the failing afterlife system

gets to run a bar and sing in a rock band with his found family

spends eternity with Castiel

Sam

fulfills his dream of finding his own life and starting family

Sam gets chance to try to have relationship with Eileen without weird Chuck trying to manipulate them

gets to lead a hunter school in Bunker and mentor the next generation of hunters

Castiel

makes things right by restoring Heaven to better than before by mentoring the next generation of Angels

spends eternity with Dean

Jack

fulfills destiny of creating paradise by populating Heaven with badass angels instead of pencil pushers

Angels now actively try to spread good works with humanity and provide watchful eye that things stay in balance instead of being dicks with wings

gets to be raised by his three dads as he travels between realms.

Rowena & demons, Charlie & angels, Amara & Shadow, Sam & Eileen

handle stuff for Hell, Heaven, Empty, and Earth

Purgatory seems to continue doing fine as monster chaos

Chuck

gives up living vicariously through his creations and becomes a hands off God like he was in season 4.

Charlie

After being unfridged, she is amazing lesbian Queen ruling gloriously over Heaven

Baby

given a hunter’s funeral and burned to ash

#spn ending #spn season 15 #spn spec #spn speculation #destiel #deancas

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alex-ruins-everything · 4 years ago

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Turning Pages - Chapter 3

Intrulogical bookshop au! Read the whole thing on ao3 here

Logan admittedly was shocked with himself for turning down the offer of coffee with Roman’s brother. He had been equally shocked that the other had actually purchased a book when he crashed the reading of the children’s book. Sure the man with the white streak of hair had crossed his mind a few times in the past few days, mostly when he saw Roman enter the shop to bother Virgil. Would Remus be barging in again? He had convinced himself the thought only crossed his mind because of how destructive the man was. He messed up the stands and shouted in the shop...he was like a tornado or a car crash. Terrible but impossible to look away from. Hence why he had been a little taken aback when he spotted that same white streak sitting with the kids in a circle while Patton went through his Saturday reading circle.

“Who was that guy?” Patton asked during a lull in the customers. “He came and listened to the reading.” “That would be Remus. Roman’s twin brother. You were on break the first time he came in,” Logan responded, smoothing down the front of the apron. “Perhaps word of Patton’s Reading Circle has begun to reach a broader audience.”

That got a laugh from Patton which told Logan he was gonna drop the questions about Remus. Good. There were much more important things to think about than rowdy men with eyes that were so green they looked like toxic waste. Logan wondered if he wore contacts because Roman’s were hazel at best, but Remus’ seemed to glow. No- he shut that line of thinking down, relieved when a customer came in and asked to be shown to the biography section. Work was a great distraction when one’s mind began to be plagued by things he’d rather not think about. After the man was helped the customer’s started to thin, the busy morning turning into a dead zone evening. That was the way it worked around here. Nobody really came into the shop unless there was an event, which is what made Patton and his children’s books so imperative.

Logan didn’t mind being at the shop all day. Patton had opened, but Logan had shown up thirty minutes early just to ensure it was going smoothly. By the time it was closing he was hardly tired, having chosen two new books to read over the course of the day, blatantly ignoring the marine biology section despite his interest having been piqued by a certain encyclopedia. The shop was closed on Sundays so he had no work tomorrow, and Monday was his day off, an unnecessary requirement that Mr. Sanders had put into place for every employee. Something about not working oneself into the ground. Still, his day of absence meant he had to get everything spic and span for Monday. He was out by 6:15, his shift technically ended at 6 since the shop closed at 5. He had said goodbye to Patton around 3 so it was just him alone with the books, something that might seem eerie to some, but it was when he felt most comfortable.

The sun was still out when he left, locking the door behind him. The summer air was warm, but today luckily wasn’t humid. Leaving the air conditioned store into humid weather always made his glasses fog up with condensation. Instead today the warmth just settled pleasantly into his skin. The town they lived in was small, the bookshop nestled among other family owned businesses, any chain store off in the shopping mall fifteen miles away. It was quiet and that was what Logan liked. He took the long way home, walking through the park instead of the direct route. As he passed the pond with the geese sitting around it he couldn’t help but wonder if these were the poor birds that had fallen prey to Remus Kingsley’s antics.

“Perhaps we have something in common, my fowl feathered friends,” he said as a line of them crossed the pathway.

Logan waited for the geese to finish crossing before continuing on, the sunlight bouncing off the leaves of the trees and illuminating the people sitting on the benches. A mother and her young children, two younger boys with skateboards, and couples. Lots and lots of couples. Holding hands, gazing into each other's eyes. Logan noted it was the type of stuff Roman always romanticized. It was the kind of stuff he had always found personally trivial and unnecessary. He gave a content sigh once he finally reached his apartment, taking the steps up to the fourth floor since the elevator was nearly always out of order. He didn’t mind, though. The stairs were an excellent form of exercise which was a vital part to living a healthy life.

His evening was calm, pleasant even. He cooked himself dinner just as he always did, enjoying his meal at the table with soft music playing in the background. For dessert he was even fortunate enough to have some cookies Patton had given him which he snuck some of his favorite jam onto. Logan had no work to catch up on so he settled onto his sofa with a book, flipping through the pages happily until a character description caught his attention. Green eyes. He wondered if they were a muted green or bright and exciting like Remus’-- and then he promptly banished that thought from his mind.

It was highly unreasonable to entertain these continuous thoughts about Remus Kingsley. Firstly he seemed to be a bringer of chaos, a concept that Logan did not appreciate. Logan appreciated order and routine, he doubted Remus had either of those things. Secondly, Remus is Roman’s brother. Logan is not great at having friends, but he considers Roman an acquaintance of his. After all, on occasion he has been invited out with Patton and Virgil and Roman seemed to usually be there. That was his social group, and he was fairly certain there was some sort of unspoken rule about dating family members of your acquaintances. Thirdly, and most importantly, Logan was not looking for a relationship. He was far too busy to dedicate time to another person when his life was divided up perfectly into work, pursuit of knowledge, and the occasional social activity to upkeep connections with others. There was no space for Remus Kingsley in his life. His continued thoughts seemed to suggest otherwise, however.

“I need to make a list,” Logan spoke aloud to an empty apartment, setting his book aside and grabbing the notepad from the coffee table.

He set up two columns, dedicated to rationalizing these daydreams away so he could return to his reality. The first column was labeled Thoughts About Remus and the second was labeled Why That Is Irrational. Logan let the thoughts flow freely now, writing down the things his mind had brought up about the near stranger since their first encounter. Remus’ eyes made the list. So did the fact that he’s tall. Logan wasn’t blind despite what his glasses would suggest, and he could admit that Remus was attractive, sort of in a dangerous way. He then went through and rationalized each of those away. Approximately 2% of the population has green eyes, so it isn’t completely impossible he could find someone else attractive with the eye color. It was unlikely, and it was even more unlikely that they would hold that same sort of glint that Remus’ did.

“You’re missing the point of the assignment,” he spoke to himself, continuing on the list.

Lots of people were tall, and even then it wasn’t a requirement to be attractive. Speaking of attractive, Remus wasn’t the first person Logan had thought of as such, so there was strong evidence to suggest he wouldn’t be the last. When Logan did feel he was ready for a relationship he was sure he could find someone else who checked off the required categories who didn’t mess up the bookshop displays. That last thought was more helpful than any of the others. Logan was satisfied with his list, setting the notebook back on the table and picking up his book once more, content now to continue his night of reading where his only concerns were based in the historical fiction he was reading at the moment.

TAGLIST:

@theiwatobiicepic

#alex-writes-everything #turning pages #intrulogical #prinxiety #moceit #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides

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sonofsallyjackson · 5 years ago

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Heroes of Olympus should have been in first-person.

@jo-march-is-a-lesbian wrote a really wonderful post about how “Percy Jackson and the Olympians is better than Heroes of Olympus…because it understood simplicity and character development.” It highlights some reasons I also found HoO less rewarding namely that it was an overcomplicated story with limited character growth, lacked a common thesis, and was super jarring when it switched perspectives.

And with that my little brain went: I can fix this. Which frankly is ridiculous. I can’t come up with a compelling thesis like “The idea that we should place our hope in our loved ones, our friends and our family, and if we do that, we won’t be tempted to give up hope again.” But I can imagine a simple change that would have solved some of the issues and also played to Rick’s strengths as a writer: Each book should have been written in first person and narrated by a different character.

With so many people on the quest, I often felt like I was watching a bunch of one-dimensional characters fight for their right to be the main character. I didn’t know who to focus on but I was also dissatisfied. There were all these new wonderful characters in front of me who I wanted to love, but I didn’t feel like I actually knew them. I mean I don’t feel like I know the Stoll Brothers either, but I’m not concerned about that fact because they are side characters. When everyone is painted as the main character, I have certain expectations for growth, personality, and voice. The story would have been better served if the characters took turns narrating the action, allowing us to settle into their perspective, see their growth, and better understand their personality.

Plus Rick kills first-person. While I’m not particularly a fan of Trials of Apollo, it’s not because I don’t know the characters. Apollo is so very different than Percy. Their voices, even though they can both be jokesters at times, reflect their different life-experiences, thought processes and provide massive insight into their characters. If the Seven (and Nico and Reyna) got the same treatment, I would be absolutely giddy.

I recognize that rewriting the HoO series in first-person is something a talented fanfiction writer with a lot of time on their hands could actually do. But I am not talented like that and I certainly don’t have the discipline to actually write that much fic, especially if I was trying to keep the events vaguely the same just with different narration and pacing. So instead I’ve included who I think should have narrated each book below the cut. I’d love to hear any opinions people have regarding this idea, especially who they would have wanted to see to narrate each book.

In addition to picking the narrator, I’ve highlighted what should be the “quest” so to speak of each story. Personally, MoA, HoH and BoO are kind of a blur to me despite reading them all recently. It’s hard to distinguish what happens in each book because it’s all one massive quest with a whole bunch of mini-quests. While the different narrators would obviously make the books more distinctive, splitting the series into seven books would also help simplify each book’s individual goal. Eight books would have allowed for better integration of the plot to find the physician’s cure, but with the prophecy of seven, it seemed like seven books was the best option, if I was going to be doing something as blasphemous as splitting books.

As a note, I ran out of steam as I went so not all opinions are fully fleshed out.

Book 1: The Lost Hero The Quest: Rescue Hera/Juno Narrator: Jason

Why this would be cool:

He is literally Juno’s chosen sent on a quest to rescue her. It’s poetic enough to give him the book.

Jason’s journey is just as much about rediscovering himself as it is about saving Juno. Of the new characters, I feel like I understand Jason the least. Mainly because I felt like I was missing the entire first half of his story. Jason, like Percy and Annabeth, is a hero of the Titan War. I know some of his accomplishments, but I don’t have any bearing on what his life was like or how he felt about it. He doesn’t seem like the type to relish Praetor-ship since he doesn’t have the same intense need to get back to his camp as Percy. Was he just hoisted on his comrades’ shields after killing the Titan without any real choice in the matter? Give me Jason’s memories coming back slowly over the course of the quest (with potentially a fractured memory of a mistake he made in the Roman’s final Titan battle that makes him doubt their ability to both rescue Piper’s dad and save Hero but he makes the decision to anyway because he can’t just hurt his friend like that. Let me understand how Jason is the person he is today. Give me glances of the Roman Camp with emphasis on the heavy expectations that have always followed him as the son of Jupiter and foreshadow why he eventually chooses to design all the shrines for the minor gods so he can have his own place in the world as a figure between the two camps.

Let’s dive into those feelings of anger/guilt/resentment when people at camp are disappointed with him for not being Percy or in Chiron’s case are nervous about what his presence means.

I want to dig deeper regarding Jason’s feelings about reconnecting with Thalia. He knows that if the gods hadn’t been determined to keep the two camps completely separate, he could have grown up with his sister.

What does telling the narrative like this sacrifice:

We miss some of the internal turmoil regarding the fact that Piper’s Dad has been captured and she must betray her friends.

We also don’t feel the tensions of Piper’s relationship with Aphrodite. I don’t see Piper bringing up the conversation with her mom saying that her mist memories were so strong because she automatically sensed the potential of a romantic relationship with Jason.

We don’t have any of Leo’s conflicted feelings regarding rescuing Hera or his fear of being made an outcast for his fire abilities. Jason has to go with Leo to discover Bunker 9 and Festus.

Leo doesn’t actively save the day with the Cyclops.

We don’t know how Piper feels about her charm-speak or see her defeat Madea (as the boys are in their weird trance thing).

Knowledge about Gaea’s involvement in wrecking Leo’s life will come later.

Book 2: The Son of Neptune The Quest: Free Thantos Narrator: Hazel

Why this would be cool:

The stakes are so incredibly high. Hazel is literally risking her second chance at life by agreeing to go on this chance. She’s going to the place she died to fight the monster she created. She also has to deal with the trauma of knowing she may have bought the world time with her first sacrifice but it now means nothing if she can’t succeed again.

We get to see Camp Jupiter from the view of someone who loves it but doesn’t really fit in. Hazel joined Camp Jupiter just after the final battle. She enters a community that has learned to fight as a well-oiled machine but that has lost people. Dakota or the others may remark to her about how things were before or the people who are missing. Hazel sees a community that she’s not quite a part of both because she didn’t fight in the war and because she’s in the fifth cohort with a feared godly parent.

It would explore her relationship with Nico more (because I love their dynamic and I want more). She knows she can’t replace his real sister, but she feels comfortable and happy at the opportunity to have a brother, especially one who is out of time like she is.

What does telling the narrative like this sacrifice:

Frankly, the largest pushback would be from the fans who expected this to be Percy’s book since we just watched Jason rediscover who he is.

Percy’s phone call to his mom doesn’t have the same intensity.

Frank’s relationship with Mars and how desperate he was to be claimed but now he doesn’t think he can live up to his father’s expectations.

Frank and his grandmother. We aren’t in Frank’s head as he changes shape till later.

Book 3: Mark of Athena The Quest: Close the Divide Between The Two Camps by finding Athena’s statue and Rescue Nico Narrator(s): Annabeth and Leo

Why Annabeth:

So I can have all the emotions at the reunion with Percy.

Annabeth’s relationship with her Mom has never been great, but imagine beginning the book with Annabeth being given the Mark of Athena. They haven’t left for New Rome yet and her nerves are already all over the place. Then Athena/Minerva comes, gives her an impossible quest, and breaks her hat. Annabeth wants to prove to her mother that she’s worthy because despite everything she still values her mother’s opinions. Also her fatal flaw of hubris makes her believe she will succeed where everyone else failed.

Much of the book already follows her in third person limited so we just get things with a little extra emotion.

Why Leo:

Leo has to grapple with the fact he started this war by being the one to fire the cannon even if he didn’t have any control. He is motivated to fix it

If we’re going to include the Sammy plot, we need to do it now. Leo doesn’t like being the odd one out on the ship but he certainly doesn’t like the feeling of being notable because of his grandfather.

We still need to get into those feelings of abandonment and anger at Gaea for killing his mom.

Nemesis

Leo comes into his own with the discovery of the Archimedes sphere and the decision to value people over objects.

What does telling the narrative like this sacrifice:

The aquarium shenanigans

The fight between Jason and Percy in Kansas needs to happen differently so that the others are present and try to stop it.

Neither of them went ashore to meet Hercules.

I think we might need to move up the Calypso meeting to this book, but that also kills some of the suspense since Frank will have the fireproof coating prior to his adventures in Venice when he gains faith in his abilities. It also might mean Leo opens the fortune cookie from Nemesis unless for some odd reason he doesn’t have it. There’s a lot more narrative weight for it coming later, but in order to get in as many book events as we can in, it might need to come earlier.

Book 4: House of Hades Pt. 1

The Quest: Survive Tartarus Narrator(s): Annabeth and Percy

The first time I read House of Hades, I read it out of order (reading all the Percy and Annabeth chapters until they were on the elevator out of Tartarus before going back and reading the others), because I couldn’t handle the back and forth. I felt like the tension would build, I’d be invested in this plot and then we’d switch to the other plot. Plus I was very concerned for my children. So I feel fully justified in saying that there is more than enough material to give the two of them their own book.

I just feel like all the feelings would be magnified.

Percy’s commentary slowly losing its humor because he can’t anymore.

Annabeth’s guilt at having pulled him in being extra loud.

Downsides beyond adding an entire book: Just imagine all the outrage at two cliffhangers in a row, because you know the book would end with them in the elevator remembering Bob’s words about the stars.

Book 5: House of Hades Pt. 2

The Quest: Close the Doors of Death Narrator(s): Frank and Hazel

Frank and Hazel experience the most growth on the quest to close the doors so this book is all theirs. Hazel learns to control the mist. Frank experiments with his transformations. I want nothing but them growing into themselves and their abilities.

The good thing about turning the two warring storylines from House of Hades into separate books is that we lose very little plot.

Book 6: House of Hades Pt. 3/Blood of Olympus Pt 1 (Personally I would call this one Ambassador of Pluto)

The Quest: Unite the Gods’ Personalities. Narrator: Nico

To clarify what I mean by HoH 3, I just mean anything done with the intention of trying to cross paths with Reyna, including the adventure with Cupid, in addition to the existing Nico&Reyna plotline in BoO.

Nico dealing with all the emotions and his most recent near-death experience.

He kept the secret of the camps so the world wouldn’t end in chaos, but now that the world is in chaos he will be the one to fix it.

In the short time he’s on the Argo 2, Nico realizes that even though this wasn’t his quest; this is his family and he needs to protect them.

The reader has a pretty good idea Nico is gay, even if the word isn’t explicitly said from the descriptions (his guilty Percy thoughts - he let down the man he loves even if he won’t admit it.) This means that Cupid’s forceful outing is potentially less surprising so the reader can be properly outraged at Cupid.

Downside: Reyna definitely has adventures when Nico is passed out, especially the whole waking up with the Hunters, but I think it’s excusable for a whole book from Nico’s perspective.

Also, the battle between the camps and gifting of the statue needs to happen in this book, but we shouldn’t find out if the gods have regained control of their forms yet. We alleviate some tensions because Camp Half-blood is likely to be overrun with Octavian’s monsters instead of the Roman armies and Gaea could awaken any second, but there’s an odd moment of calm and an uneasy truce. (Octavian is potentially taken under custody to be held for trial only to escape in the next book.)

Book 7: Blood of Olympus Pt 2 (and the aftermath)

The Quest: Like The Last Olympian, the final book’s focus is entirely on defeating the series’ big bad, in this case, Gaea. Leo’s quest for the Physician’s cure parallels Percy’s River Styx visit.

Narrator(s): Leo and Piper

Leo has his death hanging over his head. He has decided that he will be the one to die not any of his friends. He got the cloth from Calypso so the “fire” portion of the prophecy applies to him and not Frank. (Yes I know you can’t control prophecies, but do you think that’s going to stop Leo.)

It’s the ultimate revenge for killing his mom. We can have memories of both the happy times with Esperanza and the fear he felt for thinking he caused the fire.

Piper’s perspective is necessary as we need to be with her during the fight with the giants.

This series began with Piper, Leo, and Jason. It ends that way too with the three of them killing Gaea and the two of them narrating.

Downsides:

The Percabeth I love you-the feud is over scene remains in Piper’s perspective.

Since we’re not following Reyna’s delivery of the statue concurrently we don’t know when to anticipate the healed gods appearing in the battle with the giants.

The book can still get away with not showing us Percy’s reunion with Sally or forcing Leo to tell the others he’s alive so they’re all grieving.

#pjo meta #pjo fandom #pjo/hoo #hoo #riordanverse #heroes of olympus #my meta #percy jackon and the olympians #the seven #jason grace #hazel levesque #leo valdez #piper mclean #percy jackson #annabeth chase #frank zhang #the fandom once again improving hoo

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thememoriesofaqueen · 4 years ago

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In Another Life - Part 2

Masterlist (x)

English is not my first language → I do not own anything of the TVD - Universe and I’m not affiliated or associated with the writers etc. this is only a headcanon.

Pairing: Kalijah ( Katherine / Elijah )

Setting: The Originals 1x06, TVD Post 5x08, cured Katherine.

TW: -

Word Count: 2.169

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The soft classical music in the background mediated a peaceful environment -- yet peaceful isn't the word Elijah would use when describing the atmosphere. The air is still heavy with his brother's betrayal. Leaning back in his armchair, Elijah flipped a page of his mother's grimoire and tried to ignore the piercing smell of fresh blood dropping on the two-hundred-year-old carpet.

"So, this is what you do the first time we're back together as a family? Vampire book club?", the voice of his sister cut through the seemingly peaceful silence. Elijah didn't bother to look up, instead, his eyes focused on the letters written in old Norse, hoping to finally find the thing he's been looking for the past thirty minutes.

"Reading edifies the mind, sister. Isn't that right, Elijah?" Niklaus answered and Elijah really had to bit his tongue in order to not make a snarky comment. At first, he had been alone in the sunny living room, hoping for some quiet time while searching for a certain spell. Preferably without his brother's knowledge. But for some reason, Niklaus suddenly had the desire to join him, picking a collection of poems he sought to read. How odd, considering he had maliciously daggered him and put him in a box for almost three months in order to use his lifeless body as a pledge.

"Yes, that's quite right, Niklaus," he replied out of politeness towards his sister. If his brother thought that's how he would start talking to him again, he's terribly mistaken.

"And what's this business?" Elijah didn't even have to look up in order to know what Rebekah meant. The unlucky young woman who was unfortunate enough to run into Niklaus' arms.

"This is .... " it is hard to find a word to describe what it is. Niklaus’ way of trying to smooth things over? Because he thinks forgiveness for his unacceptable behavior could be bought?

"I presumed, after so much time desiccating in a coffin, that my big brother might be a bit peckish." Elijah let out a small breath, his jaw clenching a bit. His poor brother really has no idea what it meant to earn forgiveness. Or perhaps he simply didn't regret what he had done after all.

"And I explained to my little brother that forgiveness cannot be bought. I'd simply prefer to see a change in behavior that indicates contrition and personal growth -- not this nonsense." Elijah finally closed the grimoire and looked at the girl and the small red puddle on the expensive carpet. Offering him food like he'd be a starved animal is a ridiculous attempt of an excuse.

Shaking his head, he rose to his feet and put the grimoire back into the shelf. Clearly there's too much distraction to focus properly.

"If you’ll excuse me," and with those words, he left his two siblings.

xxx

Returning to his study, Elijah walked straight to his phone laying on his desk which had just finished charging. Truth be told, he hadn't paid his mobile device much attention the past months. Shortly after he had moved to New Orleans, life had been particular ... diversified. With enemies around every corner in the city that they had once called home and a brother who stubbornly had tried to sabotage the only chance of this family's happiness, there wasn't much time left to pay attention to anything else. Spending almost three months in a coffin had not helped either.

Elijah started his phone, surprised it's still working and not deeply discharged after all the time while looking out the window and taking in the beautiful sight of the fruit trees around their house. They are going to switch locations soon, away from the plantation and towards the city. He just hoped moving closer won't bring too much trouble.

A short vibration led his attention back the phone in his hands as it had finished starting. After tipping in his code, his phone plopped up several notifications. Missed calls, messages, updates... Elijah chose to ignore the updates and took a quick look over his messages. Most informed him just about missed calls, the other ones were sent by his sister over a period of a few weeks, ranging from simple questions to slightly offensive messages to honest concern when he hadn't answered them.

And how could he? During that time, his little brother had long stabbed a dagger through his heart and practically sold his body to his family's enemies.

Elijah shook his head, a fit of growing anger in his chest which made his jaw clench.

And still, instead of an honest apology, Niklaus choose to appease his foul mood by offering him a dead girl.

No idea how long Niklaus thought of keeping him in that box, how long he was supposed to play pledge. Another few months? Years? Centuries? Put away and forgotten? Just because Niklaus feared his child is going to grow up and calls Elijah father instead of him? Taking over his brother's position was by far not in Elijah's interest. Shouldn't Niklaus know how important family is to him? How far he'd go to protect his family and ensure Niklaus' redemption?

Stealing his brother's child is by far the last thing Elijah ever thought of doing but knowing how paranoid Niklaus tends to be, it doesn't surprise him that Niklaus feared his influence. Although that's still no excuse for what he has done to him.

If he were more attentive to the mother of his child, if he were to treat her with more respect, Elijah wouldn't have to interfere.

Choosing to delete the messages because they were no longer needed and solved, Elijah leaned against his desk while appreciating his sister's efforts. It had been Rebekah who had looked after him, who had ensured to find him. And for that, he's thankful because Elijah is almost sure Niklaus would have left him to rot for at least a few more months.

The missed calls were almost consistent with the messages. Most calls were from Rebekah or from people which worked for him. He still preferred to be independent. After years of being alone and loathing Niklaus, even seeking revenge against him because he claimed he had dumped their siblings into the ocean and therefore making it impossible to find them again, Elijah came to the conclusion it's better to not share everything with his brother. The next fit of rage will sooner or later come again and sometimes it's better to not trust his little brother who undoubtedly will turn everything against him if he has found another of his tiring reasons to punish his siblings.

Elijah had spent years finding his own witches, his own minions which were loyal only to him. And finding loyalty is a difficult thing in this world. Often he had to get rid of the people who had sworn loyalty towards him but chose other things behind his back.

He doesn't take betrayal easily. It's punished with death. And death will find them, even if it takes centuries. Trevor is the best example. On the run for almost half a Millenium and thinking he's deserving to be granted forgiveness just because Elijah had granted his companion Rose merci. Rose had aided him because she was loyal to Trevor. But Trevor's loyalty? Where had it been? He had willingly chosen to betray Elijah in a more than important matter and for that, he had paid with his life.

This fate shall be descended to anyone who thinks betrayal shall go unpunished.

Elijah's raising rage settled a bit the more missed calls he deleted but noted to make sure to check upon his people soon in the next time.

He almost reached the end of the list of his missed calls when he notices something odd. Several calls from a suppressed and later from an unknown number during a short amount of time. He didn't recognize that numbers, but the area code suggests the same place.

Elijah frowned as he didn't recall waiting for anything important during that time. He is sure he hadn't been expecting someone either. The date of the time of those calls was shortly after the time he had been daggered. Is it connected to that negative event?

He highly doubted it because if it were connected to being daggered, the caller would have known he's currently ... unavailable.

Elijah shifted his weigh, his back still leaning against his wooden mahogany desk, thinking about if he had missed a detail. Only a few people had his numbers. Of course, there are always some people who called his number by accident but that rarely happens.

Putting a hand in his pocket, he thoughtfully raised his phone and tapped it onto his chin, while trying to make sense of those mysterious calls. At the same time, he focused his attention downstairs in order to check if everything's okay. Rebekah wasn't too pleased with the recent events and they all tend to have a rather heated temper. Fortunately, his sister still seemed to be busy with the stained rug although it surprised him Rebekah put that much of an effort into it. He guessed she's almost finished with it as he could hear water being turned on and a bin emptied.

That distracted him for a little while before his attention returned back to the phone in his hand whose screen had already turned black. Turning it back on, Elijah chose to scroll past the suppressed and unknown numbers because he couldn't for the sake of his life remember what it was that person had wanted. Or who that person even is.

He had almost reached the end of his missed calls, now dated to a time shortly before he had been daggered. He remembers being pretty occupied back then with protecting the mother of his unborn niece while trying to talk some sense into Niklaus. That effort had ultimately ended in him being coldly daggered and stuffed in a box.

The corner of his lips dropped in a sudden twist of mood, the anger buried deep underneath the surface threatening to break out again.

Focus, he told himself.

His fingers brushed over the screen again, scrolling past unknown numbers until it suddenly started to show a name at the end of the list. A few days before he had been daggered.

Katerina.

A sudden coldness took hold over his heart as he looked over all the times Katerina had tried to call him. Twenty times within a few days. Judging by the date and time, the close proximity to the unknown and even suppressed calls, Elijah had to assume that had been Katerina as well.

His breath hitched in his throat and he couldn't help the cold shiver running down his spine.

Elijah knew Katerina too well. He knew she wouldn't try to reach out to him after he had basically left her standing in his old family's mansion in Mystic Falls. Elijah knew that Katerina has way too much pride to contact him again, at least not in the next few decades. He knew that no matter the circumstances, Katerina wouldn't contact or call him. He is aware that he had hurt her too much although it's not like Katerina thinks.

He hasn't had another choice.

There's panic flooding him as he looked at all the missed calls within a few days. She had tried to reach him over a period of one and a half weeks -- first by calling him with her phone, then choosing other phones before she chose to suppress the number completely, making him assume that Katerina must believe he didn't wish to speak with her.

Worry merged with the panic in his heart as he quickly dialed her number.

He knew Katerina too well to know she wouldn't try to reach out to him if it weren't something urgent. Something more than urgent.

Seconds felt like minutes as time passed and she didn't pick up her phone. Elijah tried two times, three times, then even tried different numbers he knew they belonged to her with the same result: She didn't pick up the phone.

A low growl escaped his lips, hand ruffling through his hair in frustration. While Katerina had every right to not pick up the phone when seeing his number, he had a feeling that's not the reason for it. He knew, almost painfully knew, that something must have happened to her.

Katerina had called him at least twenty times with different numbers. She must have been desperate to reach him, to talk to him. Whatever it was, it was more than urgent and now he cannot reach her. It drove him mad.

A silent curse left his lips and he almost slammed his phone down his desk when he couldn't reach Katerina for the sixth time.

Fortunately, the clicking of heels and the swift move of blond hair passing his open door attracted his attention.

"Rebekah? A moment please!"

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

A/N: The first part of the dialog is from the show, I know. Elijah knows something must have happened to Katherine but will Rebekah tell the truth?

If you like the story, please hit the heart and feel free to leave feedback (no hate please ♥)

#kalijah #katherine pierce #elijah mikaelson #tvd fanfiction #tvd ff #katherine x elijah #elijah x katherine #tvd drabble #tvd fic #tvd #the vampire diaries #Elijah Mikaelson fanfiction #katherine pierce fanfiction #fanfiction #ial #ial 2

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ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years ago

Text

BTHB: Grabbed by the Hair

New @badthingshappenbingo piece: @special-spicy-chicken requested: Bthb grabbed by the hair for Nate?

Grabbed by the hair for Nate it is! Remember, bloodstain = requested, puppy sticker = fulfilled. Feel free to request off the bingo card or just, you know, anything - I’ve had requests for “please for the love of god let them be happy for six minutes”, “dog kennel/cage for Danny”, and my favorite ask so far “just please more Ashley please��.

Timeline: More than a year into Nate’s initial captivity with the Denners

CW: Knives, blood, forced shaving, manhandling, restraints, and some serious noncon-dubcon kissing and, uh, a bit more than that. Call it rated R? You have been warned/welcomed/disclaimed.

Tagging @bleeding-demon-teeth and @spiffythespook!

“I really don’t see why I h-have to do this,” Nate says, testing the leather buckled tightly around his wrists, subtly pulling to see if there’s any give. There isn’t, but he didn’t really expect there to be. Instead, the leather digs hard into his forearms and only seems to tighten with every hint of struggle, forced back and behind him, the inside of his elbows digging into the chair. He had to push himself against the wooden back, posture uncomfortably straight, just keep from aching. “I am perfectly capable of sh-sh-shaving myself.”

Shit, where the fuck did the stutter come from? He can’t even remember exactly when it started, a few weeks, maybe a couple of months ago. Like some connection between his brain and his mouth had gotten interrupted, living here, wires crossed. Breathing their air, cooking their food, sleeping with Bram, lost in his eyes every single time and it felt like it took longer and longer to come back, after.

Something had been snapped, inside of him, and he struggles now to speak where it had always, always been effortless before.

But he tries not to think about before. Bram always says it only makes things harder to try and remember a life before him. It’s easier if he doesn’t remember how proud he was to get his first teaching job, the time he’d spent putting together plans for that very first semester… just easier to live like he never did anything but wait around to be chosen, to be found.

(what kind of life did you live before me? no life at all, baby, so just forget it)

It’s just easier, to think of it that way - and still, in the back of his mind, Nate wonders if he can ever teach again. If Bram would let him, maybe, if he promised he’d come back home every day…

Don’t do this - this isn’t your fucking home. Don’t start thinking of it as home.

“I need the practice,” Ashley says with a shrug. She’s been back from a hunt for a few hours and she’s lit up from the inside out like she’s walked out of a lightning strike, wearing tiny black pajama shorts and a black tank top that does nothing to disguise the scratches she’s covered with, wounds from someone trying to defend themselves right to the end. They’re littered across her shoulders and neck, one thin mark up the side of her face. Her hair hangs lank and unwashed, totally unlike Bram’s shimmering waves of white-blonde, but predator snaps and cracks around her in the air, the deepest base-instinct part of Nate’s brain begging him to find some way to run.

When she leans over to look at him, the hairs stand up on his arms and the back of his neck. His hackles go up, around Ashley, and Nate hadn’t even realized people had hackles like this before her. He’d never been such a slave to his instincts before, to what he used to disparagingly call his ‘reptile brain’.

Reptile brain - primate brain, all the long millions of years of ancestors and evolution - begged him to do something, anything, to get himself out of this.

“Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I gave a man a good shave?” She sighs, mournfully, and her eyes are so like Bram’s but where things shift and move beneath the ice-blue surface in his, Ashley’s eyes are flat. Featureless. Empty.

If Bram’s eyes are a lake with monsters lurking just beneath, Ashley’s are a glacial desert where all the life has long since been desiccated and blown away in the wind. There might be bones inside Ashley, but nothing more.

“In general, or wh-where he survived the shave?” Nate is proud of the sarcastic note in his voice, his refusal to let his nervousness infect it. He settles himself back into the kitchen chair they’ve moved into the upstairs bathroom, eyeing the items laid out on the sink. It’d be a little reassuring if his ankles hadn’t been tied to the chair legs, at least, but no… he’s pretty thoroughly strapped down at this point, and he trusts Ashley Denner with a straight razor about as far as he can kick her.

Not that he technically wants to be anywhere near her, but with the two of them, he doesn’t get much of a choice.

Ashley snorts. “Oh, they rarely survived it. But they could have, if I had wanted them to. I just…” She waves one hand carelessly in the air, and Nate tries not to watch her fingers move. There’s always blood under her fingernails and ground into her knuckles, like a farmer’s hands caked in ancient dirt. “You know how it is.”

“No,” Nate says evenly. “I d-don’t.”

“You will,” She replies, a hint of irritation in her voice - but it’s a resigned, affectionate irritation, and he watches her eyes move to Bram, the indulgent smile on her face. “According to my brother, if he ever gets off his ass to dedicate you.”

“Not ready yet,” Bram says from behind him. “You know if they’re not ready, it doesn’t work.”

“Like me,” Ashley says, thinking, one bony narrow hip jutting to the side. There’s a flash of pale stomach were her tank top rides up, just a little, and Nate swallows back disgust at the deep fingernail scratches there, too - slowly closing up. By tomorrow morning they’ll be gone. “I wasn’t ready, and it didn’t work all the way.”

“Not like you, Ash. You were still ready. It still worked. Just… well. You came out of it just fine, right?”

“Did I?” Ashley’s eyes go down to Nate’s. There’s a flash of a smile, bright and shining, just like Bram’s smile but entirely devoid of the warmth, the affection, the love he gives. “Did I come out all right, d’you think, Nate?”

Nate doesn’t flinch away from her. Never flinch, they hate it when you pull away from them. Instead, he raises one eyebrow very slowly. It’s a skill he practiced over and over in the mirror, once upon a time. “That r-remains to be seen,” He says, and his voice is low and deep and perfectly even. It gives absolutely nothing away

Ashley’s smile widens, something dangerous and murderous there, and she spins to pick up the straight razor and leather strop. Nate lets out a breath of air all at once, telling himself he won this round.

“Ssshhhh, you’re okay,” Bram murmurs behind him, sitting on the edge of the old claw-footed tub. He’s perched there like some malevolent fucking pigeon in his own loose pants and shirt, feet resting on the spindle on the back of Nate’s chair, just below his hands.

Ashley and Bram might be dressed, but Nate has to be naked for the whole goddamn experience, apparently. Which he absolutely does not appreciate, especially not because when he looks up he can see himself in the mirror, the thinner face and shadows under his eyes, the bruises across his neck and body, bandages where Bram cuts him every fucking night.

If only he didn’t get so lost in Bram, lost enough to like it, he might be less ashamed of them.

“I know I’m okay,” Nate says softly, turning his head a little to catch the flash of clean, shining wavy hair behind him, the hint of Bram’s black shirt and pants, the curve of a shoulder. It’s all blurred in his peripheral vision, but still, he can see it well enough.

Bram’s presence is a constant cold along his back, the knowledge that he will melt away and fade, sooner or later, like he always, always does. But Nate turns his eyes back to Ashley, for now, and his mind stays clear.

Ashley slides the blade of the razor back and forth on the strip of leather, humming tunelessly to herself, and Nate finds his eyes caught on a particularly deep scratch that runs up her left arm, nearly from elbow to shoulder. “Wh-why did you l-let yourself get hurt like that?” He asks, and she pauses in her movements, a slow smile on her wide lips, nostalgic and starry-eyed when she turns to look back at him.

Schlip. Schlip. Schlip. The razor picks its rhythm back up, the sharp blade that will soon be at his cheeks, his chin, his neck.

“Because I was bored,” She replies, simply. “And starving. I let him think he had a chance, for a while. I like to play.” She sighs, dreamily, and Nate thinks of one of his students sitting in his office one day, sighing like that about one of the books he’d been teaching, thinking the hero was so romantic, and misunderstood, and Nate had thought to himself, Percy Shelley would have loved you. Briefly.

“When I’m done, I want him to cook me a steak,” Ashley says not to Nate himself but to Bram behind him. Schlip, schlip, schlip, goes the slow and steady rhythm of the razor on the strop. Nate tries not to listen, but feels something in him relax in relief - if she wants him to cook her a steak, she’s not going to kill him.

Not today.

“Mmmmn, when you’re done I need about forty-five minutes with him first,” Bram retorts, and Nate’s heart drops to his stomach, his eyes lowering to the tile floor. He’s scrubbed this grout for hours to get it clean after years of their mostly-benign neglect. “Then he’ll cook you a steak. He’ll be bloody, though.”

Ashley is silent, but Nate doesn’t look up, not this time.

“I like it bloody,” She says, finally. “I always like it bloody.”

“Mine,” Bram warns her, and one cold hand slides over Nate’s shoulder and down over his collarbone, fingertips skimming the line of the bone under his skin. His voice goes low and serious. Wolves fighting over an elk leg. “Not yours. He’s mine.”

“I meant the steak, of course, you jealous baby,” Ashley says with an affectionate sneer, and puts the straight razor down for the moment. She turns on the sink, and with a low gurgle of ancient pipes, the water starts to run in a constant, reassuring rush of sound as they wait for it to warm.

The main bathroom in this old house is halfway between the two largest bedrooms, right in the center of the hallway, just next to the staircase down to the first floor. Nate keeps it as clean as he can - Bram and Ashley don’t clean for themselves, and Nate had at first promised himself he wouldn’t turn into some kind of fucking servant, but that had lasted until he couldn’t take their squalor any longer.

Now it was all clean, which at least was reassuring, since he was pretty certain he wouldn’t die of an infection, even if he died of whatever they did when Bram lost this weird delusion he had that they were in some kind of relationship.

“Now, Nate,” Bram says in a voice that’s not quite a purr, right into his ear so he jumps at the sudden loudness of the sound. How does he move so fucking silently? “Ashley is going to give you a shave, with a straight razor. They used to do this way back-"

“I know,” Nate cuts in, his voice slightly softer for Bram than it is for Ashley. When Bram’s fingers graze the back of his neck and slide up into the back of his black hair, he swallows against the little shiver of pleasure down his spine, the faintest curl of warmth. Bram knows him by now, every inch of him, knows exactly where to touch and when and how much. “I know h-how shaving worked. I t-t-taught fucking 18th and 19th century lit, Bram. Historical context is k-kind of important. Everyone’s s-seen old-style shaving now, anyway, in Sweeney Todd or s-something.”

There’s a pause, and the arm over his chest tightens. Ashley shrugs, carelessly, her eyes on Bram behind him, and Nate finds himself laughing a little. The sound is a low, warm rumble pulled out of him against his will, and next to his ear he hears Bram hum a little in appreciation at the sound.

Nate doesn’t laugh very often, here. Not when his mind is still his own. When his mind is Bram’s, and he stops fighting the pull, sometimes he laughs all the time in the dark.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what Sweeney Todd is.”

Ashley frowns, turning back to the array of tools laid out on the sink, her back to him. There’s a scratch along one shoulder blade, a couple of bruises. They’ll heal up over the course of a day and be gone. Nate has seen it happen, over and over and over again. Small wounds simply disappear, like they never happened. But deeper wounds stick - Ashley came home with a bullet in her shoulder weeks ago and she’s still healing from that - and there’s something there he can use, if he can only figure it out.

“We don’t do a lot of popular entertainment,” Bram says, fingernails scratching gently into his scalp, soothing and pleasant. “Maybe you can take me out sometime, Nate. I’ll see a show with you.”

Nate goes still, mind working, and Ashley laughs at him. “Oh, don’t look so hopeful. You’d be lost the whole time. He’s not stupid. Now let’s get that shit off your face.” Her eyes, identical to Bram’s but somehow totally different at the same time, flick up to meet her brother’s just behind his head.

“I like him better clean-shaven,” Bram says, his voice low and sweet and Nate finds himself curling his fingers until his hands are fists, cuffed together behind the back of the chair. “Always have. I think he’s been refusing to shave just to bother me.”

“Honestly, Brammie, just make him.” Ashley flashes a sharp-toothed smile, turning to the sink to pick up a washcloth as steam began to show from the water running from the faucet, finally hot. She stuck her hand right under the flow of water, letting the washcloth soak it up. That was another thing Nate had noticed, and didn’t know if he could use - they didn’t seem to feel heat very easily, either of them. Dead nerves, maybe? He’s been here for a year or so, trying to figure them out, trying to decide how to escape, and slowly beginning to wonder if there would ever be a chance for that. “He’s yours, right? Just look him in the eye and tell him to shave.”

“Hm, tried that.” Bram’s arm tightens a little around his chest, almost defensively. “He’s not so good with dexterity when he’s like that. Cut himself pretty badly.”

“Oh.” Ashley pauses, chewing on her bottom lip in confusion, then brightens. “Oh! I remember that. I thought you did that to him. You know, like…” She gestures at the bandage across Nate’s shoulder, the newest one from last night.

(listen to you… you like that, huh?)

Nate turned his head to the side, trying not to feel the way his face reddened at the reminder.

(every second of the life you lived without me was a waste of your potential, darling, we’re going to make something special out of you)

“Sadly, no. You know I don’t want to fuck up my darling’s face, Ash. Come on, let’s get him shaven. You’re the one who said you wanted to do this. I’m the one letting you. So let’s get it done.”

Ashley grins like light glinting dully off a rusty, bloody blade. Nate holds perfectly still for her, letting her rub the hot washcloth over his chin, his jaw, up over his cheeks and down his neck. The cool air kisses the wet skin afterward, making him shiver, goosebumps rising up his arms.

Bram’s arm around him tightens, and the grip on his hair slowly pulls his head back and back and back, until he can see Bram looming over him, the gentle sweetness of his smile as he leans down to slowly kiss Nate’s forehead, lingering there for just a moment.

Nate closes his eyes before he can look right at Bram’s.

He needs to be in his right mind for this, but he couldn’t have said why. Being in his right mind never did him any good.

Ashley takes a small boar’s hair brush with a knobbed wooden handle that fit perfectly in the palm of her hand, the end somewhat pale with what Nate was beginning to think might be centuries of use. She holds that under the hot water, too, taking up her humming again.

“The solitary bird of night,” Ashley sang, in a cracked soprano, vibrato trilling in her throat like an actress from the 1950’s. “Through the thick shades now wings his flight…”

She dips the brush into a small bowl, swirling it around. Nate keeps his eyes closed, listening to the clink of the brush against the side of the bowl. He could picture it, because he’d tried shaving the old-fashioned way a time or two himself (with a safety razor, because he wasn’t a murderous psychopath), the way the soap lathers up in a rush of whitish liquid and tiny bubbles. The scent of something clean drifts his way.

“Brammie, will you do the honors?” Ashley asks as she turns back around.

Bram’s grip on his hair tightens even more and he’s bent over the wooden back of the chair, the back of his neck digging hard into the old, worn-smooth wood. His back arches as his throat is fully exposed to her, and Nate holds back a nervous whine, just barely swallowing it back.

The only sound he makes is a gasp.

“Hold still for my Ashley, okay, sweetness?” Bram presses a kiss to the side of his forehead again, as Ashley leans over him.

Too close, the predator is too close, the prey instinct in him is screaming. Run, you have to run, the predator is too close.

His hands yank hard at the leather cuffs again, he’s breathing in audible panting gasps, his heart pounding in his chest in a sudden burst of fear. Ashley smiles at him, leaning over and steadying herself with a hand on his leg, thumb digging hard into the flat space just inside his hip, ice-cold palm settling over his thigh.

Run. Fucking run. These are the wolves and you are the wounded deer. Run.

He can’t run. He’s tied to a chair in a bathroom in a home he woke up in one day with no idea where he is. He’s being held by a brother and sister who seem to bristle and brighten at his fear, who look at him with pinprick pupils, whose eyes will drag him down into the darkness with them.

She lathers his neck and face with the little brush, and Nate clenches his eyes shut, trying to keep breathing through his nose, while Bram’s grip in his hair just grows tighter and tighter. She won’t kill me, he won’t let her kill me was a comforting thought but it wasn’t like it didn’t mean she couldn’t hurt him. God knew Bram hurt him all the time…

But usually Bram wanted him to enjoy it, and he is not being forced to enjoy this.

“He’s so scared already,” Ashley whispers playfully, bopping the end of his nose with the lathered brush, leaving a dollop of the white soap there. “I haven’t even started shaving yet. Hey, little man, what makes you so scared of me?”

Nate doesn’t answer her - there’s a retort in his mind, some kind of witty reply, but the connection between brain and mouth has been totally severed by the panic pumping adrenaline-soaked blood through his veins.

He doesn’t see her pick up the razor, but he flinches hard at the first pass of the cold blade, gentle as a whisker's brush from a cat, along his cheek, pulling his head to the side.

Ashley hisses. “Bad,” She snaps. “Hold still for me or this is going to get fucking bloody. Brammie, he knows the rules.”

Never flinch. Never pull away. Never flinch away from Bram or Ashley. Never pull away

Don’t flinch don’t flinch don’t flinch

“S-sorry,” He gasps out, as her thumbnail digs hard into his hipbone, a subtle, small flash of pain. A reminder. “Sorry, I f-f-flinched, g-g-give me a sec, I just, give me a s-second-”

“Sshhhh, I’ll allow it this time,” Bram murmurs, loving and sweet. His head aches where Bram is holding him but his fingers are so twisted into the thick black hair that Nate can’t possibly hope to pull himself free. “Breathe, baby. Breathe. There you go. Take it slow... slow and deep.”

"That’s what Nate said,” Ashley says gleefully, and she laughs, the shattered-glass sound, a broken echo of her brother.

“I really regret letting you watch that show,” Bram says, but there’s humor in his voice. “You’ve never stopped doing that since.”

“Oh, like you let me do anything,” Ashley snorts. “I do what I want. Now hold your fucking Prince Charming still or I’m gonna cut the shit out of him.”

“Will you hold still for my Ashley, now, Nate? Please, baby? Be good for me.” Bram coos the words more than says them, and Nate manages a silent, terse nod, letting Bram bend his head back again.

“I-I’ll be good,” He whispers, barely moving his mouth, words for Bram alone. “I can b-be good for you."

Bram hums, low in his throat. “I love you so much, baby,” He whispers just as the straight razor touches Nate’s cheek again. This time he holds still, he’s as still as a statue, as still as the bloody Jesus in the church when he was a child and his grandparents were still alive. Still as the saints at their weekly mass. Still as the God who never answered his prayers when he made them, and who seemed horribly dead and blind to him now.

Nate holds himself as still as the grave that waited, somewhere, for Bram to get bored of him.

Ashley lets the weight of the razor do most of the work, a gentle shave he can really barely feel, the blade only just touching his skin enough to shave off the stubble he had been stubbornly growing. His breathing starts, slowly, to calm.

Both cheeks, across his chin, just above his upper lip. Her movements are quick and expert, gentle as a lamb. The blade isn’t a cut, it’s a kiss.

Down his neck, and he tenses again, but his body is tired of trying to throw adrenaline at the problem and it’s easier to keep still this time. He focuses on the pull of Bram’s fingers in his hair, on the cold arm across his chest, on the thumb still digging hard into his hip.

Being naked felt vulnerable. Baring his throat to a fucking animal wearing a woman’s face feels worse.

She lathers him up again, takes another pass with the razor, slower this time. Taking her sweet, sweet time. And the longer it goes on, the more his heartbeat slows, the stronger he feels. Not so bad. It’s not so bad. She’s not hurting him, beyond the bruise he thinks will be on his hip in the morning from the pressure of her thumb.

Bram won’t let her hurt him, as long as he’s good. As long as Bram still loves him, he will get to stay alive.

Have to be good.

Stay alive.

Finally she steps back to grab the washcloth, washing the remaining bits of lather off his face and the end of his nose, surveying her work. “What d’you think, Brammie?”

Bram lets go of his hair and Nate gasps in relief, letting his head fall back forward. The arm is removed from his chest and Bram slips off the edge of the tub and comes around in front of him, the siblings standing side by side.

So alike, and totally different.

They cross their arms in front of themselves, and Nate fights back a hint of hysterical laughter at the image, looking at them from beneath the sweep of his hair, his chin still slightly tucked. Bram sighs and leans down, taking him by the chin and lifting it hard so he’s forced to look up.

Nate closes his eyes immediately.

He wants to stay here, as long as he can, in this place where he has his own mind.

“I think you did a great job,” Bram says after turning his face side to side, looking him over. “Didn’t miss a spot. You’ve always been so good at this, haven’t you?”

“I like razors.” Ashley shrugs and turns back to the sink. “Something wickedly sharp, right up against the blood under the skin. What’s not to like? I need to clean all of this. Take your boy and go.” She turns to look back at them, and catches Nate’s eyes. Something mocking is in her smile. “I’ll give you an hour, I’m a generous woman and I’ve decided to take a bath. Then I want my goddamn steak.”

“An hour it is.” Bram drops into a crouch, undoing the ropes that tie Nate’s ankles to the chair legs with quick movements born from long experience. Nate could kick him in the face like this, he thinks, but it wouldn’t do him any good and he doesn’t dare.

When he pulls Nate to his feet, he stumbles a little, but there’s an arm around him and a kiss to his damp neck, and Nate tilts his head back for it, swallowing hard against the curl of disgust and something darker deep inside him.

“She did a god job,” Bram whispers into his jaw, and Nate shudders. “Thanks, Ash.”

“No problem. Ugh, you’re disgusting with him, Brammie.” Ashley waves a hand at them, rinsing the brush out under the hot water again. “Get him the fuck out of my bathroom and go fuck him blind already.”

“I'm on it, big sister.” Bram laughs, barking and high-pitched, and Nate closes his eyes against the flinch he has to force down inside of himself, with all the other true feelings he has to hide, layered on each other like corpses in a plague grave.

“B-Bram, my… my wrists, will you m-maybe take the, the cuffs off?” He asks it softly, keeping his voice low and maybe a little flirty, the way Bram likes. If he can just have control over one thing, just one small thing, it’s easier.

Bram pauses, then the arm around him tightens. “No, baby. I want them on.”

Nate lets out a breath and slowly nods, looking down at the ground as Bram leads him out of the room. He's stumbling a little on legs that had fallen asleep while he was in the chair, pinpricks and static straight up his ankles as his feet were forced back awake.

“You want this, baby, right?” He blinks in surprise at the question, looking up, realizing only too late that it was a trick. Bram smiles as their eyes meet, and after a second, Nate smiles back at him.

Screaming in the back of his mind, hoarse and deafening, furious and helpless.

“You b-bet I do,” Nate breathes out loud, low with the sudden push of desire inside of him, and when Bram tilts his chin up for the kiss Nate moves forward first, pressing his lips to Bram’s, warm life to cold death, and he lets the dead thing take him, lets Bram pull him down the hallway by one arm, smiles when he’s shoved onto his back on the bed, arching his spine to try and take some weight off the arms still forced behind him and cuffed together with leather.

It’s easier, to let it take him, to let the dark things pull him under.

Just an hour.

It’s only going to be an hour.

He can go away for an hour, and that won’t be so bad. Then he'll come back again.

Bram on top of him is ice pressing down on his lungs, seeping under his skin, infecting every blood cell. There's a knee on either side of his thighs, a cold hand sliding up over his ribcage on one side, and Bram's mouth licks up his neck, trails of wet he blows cool air over that lights a heat in him, an electricity under his skin. Nate shifts under the attention, squirms a little when fingernails scrape over sensitive spots, press lightly against yesterday’s and last week’s bruises.

“Mmmmn, smooth,” Bram whispers as he kisses his neck, nips at the skin, teeth grazing just deeply enough for a hint of pain. Nate breathes in, holds for five, breathes out. His heart beats hard against his chest, but there’s no fear left, and his heart pounds for a different reason entirely now.

“Such a close, smooth shave,” Bram murmurs into the line of Nate’s jaw, and Nate swallows hard, pressing his hips up into Bram’s until the pressure is a warm rush of pleasure that shatters his thoughts, gives Bram an invitation for more. He pretends that he can’t hear the screaming trapped in the back of his own mind.

He pretends he is smooth, and cold, and empty. He pretends he is just like them.

Just for an hour.

And then again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. It stretches out ahead of him, endless days of this. When Bram picks the knife up off the bedside table and slips it into the skin along his collarbone, cutting him apart as easily as silk, he hisses at the pain at the same moment Bram bites hard into his neck and the cold hand slides down his hips and finds him hardening under the attention.

"L-look at me," Nate manages to whisper, not quite begging. "J-just look at m-me, Bram, first, please. Before you... before there’s more."

Bram lifts his head - and the pain and pleasure mix in him. When the ice eyes meet his, he can't tell the two apart any longer, and his hips buck to meet the seeking hand, the cold fingers, to ask for more even as warm blood trickles down his shoulder to soak into the sheets.

"Y-yes," Nate breathes. "Just keep looking at me. J-just like th-that."

"I love you, baby," Bram says, so sweetly, and the new slice along his collarbone bleeds and aches and Bram's hand moves and he is lost, he is so fucking lost.

Nate moans softly and smiles up at him, dazed and foggy and gone somewhere far within his own mind. "I l-love you, too, honey," he says, low and hoarse, his voice heavy and slightly thick.

One day I'm going to get out of this.

I just don't know how or if I'll be alive when I do.

"Please," Nate whispers, his hands clenched into fists against the sheets, cuffed together behind his back, Bram's hips moving against his. "Please."

"What, baby?'

"Just please d-don't stop looking at m-m-me when you hurt me."

146 notes · View notes

phantomphangphucker · 5 years ago

Text

Time’s A Game That Plays Us All

ClockWork sees all the plays that can be taken, then substitutes their own. And Danny’s always been their king.

Using the tropes: Play-Along Prisoner and Take A Third Option

There’s a legend of old, from a long time ago. Something you could find if you flipped through a ghost hunters book selection. Having been written about in the first incarnation of the Hunter’s Wisdom Essentials Guide Book, still remaining largely unchanged outside of language from this original copy, in every subsequent edition. This legend so vital that the creature behind it was listed as a co-author in the book itself. If you asked any ghost hunter why, they’d say it was obvious, much of the information came from this creature. Their work, their profession, was spurred by the very same creature.

See back in the day, before ghost hunting, before any knowledge of ghosts, there had always been stories and rumours of strange glowing creatures. Some humanoid, some animalistic. They caused havoc or skittishly avoided the humans, though most wrote them off as visions or the ravings of the mad/ill. That is except for a select few, eventually anyway. The select few who knew, came to know, when a small little creature who held age in their eyes yet the form of a small buck-toothed child made their presence known to these select few. The first being Galvion Ingride Whitefoot, Adrian G. Groove -ever followed by an albino tiger-, Exterian Slav Break, and Josephine D. Fetonightingal. Of course they had all known each other, to some degree. Met on occasions, even if their respective families grew apart to the point where eventual modern relatives were unawares. But together they had written the first edition of the Hunter’s Wisdom Essentials Guide Book, after the glowing floating child -with no legs to speak of- had offered their hand and words. Had spoken of another world, filled with creatures of wonder and horror much the same as the creature themselves. Had told them of the nature of these creatures' existence, the dead yet given ‘life’ anew. How they had pointed where they needed to go to find such similar creatures in their living world. Allowed them to witness the power these creatures could wield and how to protect against it.

At first all had questioned the small, well-spoken and mild-mannered creature; and of course they contained/trapped it as best they could. Why would they tell them such things? Give them tools to fight or defend? But they learned that this one, who used their dark purple cloak to hide, instead of invisibility. How they floated around not through things. How they never fired off one of those ecto-blasts, as they said they were called. They all came to realise that this creature did not possess the abilities of the others. And not only that, but none of the other creatures seemed to know the child-like ones’ name; yet they often knew each other’s. These four also noted how every creature they encountered seemed to represent something: sleep, plants, weather, water, electricity, and so on.

Leaving them all to come to the conclusion that this blue-skinned one, with their words of guidance, represented humanity's defence against these creatures. That they were nature’s way of defending her living children and revealing, through the presence of this weak yet wise creature, who would do it best. It was also decided that the strange ticking thing in the ghost's chest represented the growth and time needed to develop and guide a new ghost hunter. Every human who saw this creature, captured it, came to these very same conclusions; and as the story goes, as soon as they did, that very creature would appear with their soft smile and crimson eyes and tell them the name of these creatures they were to fight ‘ghosts’. Then they’d be seen no more. This final appearance came to be seen as the universes seal of approval for the ghost hunter. Their graduation from a young apprentice, learning their role in the world, to ghost hunter in true; and every single one would go on to be masters of their craft, pioneers.

Of course, in the many years that followed, not every ghost hunter saw and caught this small wise ghost, but every single one that did went on to be influential. Those that didn’t, regardless of drive, never seemed to stick with the field, never excelled at creating their own weapons, never made any new discoveries. So it was something of an understood truth that this ghost knew who would make a good true ghost hunter, and simply did not waste their time with any others.

For Jack Fenton, he had seen the ghost in his early youth, had learned everything with wild abandon. Of course his family had always known of ghosts and of the legend, to say they had been ecstatic when Jack claimed to have captured the ghost, would be an understatement.

Maddie Fenton, on the other hand, met this ghost only shortly before meeting Jack. But the knowledge the small ghost gave seemed so obvious to her, so right. Meeting Jack had been easy and obvious after that. The two lovers had felt a little bad for their friend Vlad, having never seen or heard of this ghost. But they knew even those not chosen could be good ghost hunters, and who were they to reject someone’s passion? Though neither was truly surprised when he seemingly dropped out of the ecto-field all together, especially with the accident. Though Maddie’s pretty sure she saw him flipping through a Hunter’s Wisdom Essentials Guide Book and scoffing at the small ghost, muttering that clearly this little ghost was nothing but a silly myth.

And now, Jack finds himself flipping through his Fenton family edition of the Hunter’s Wisdom Essentials Guide Book, smiling fondly and reminiscing slightly over the sketch of the old wise ghost. Though frowning slightly as he traces the scar on the ghosts face. He remembers asking how that happened, after all it was known that he did not use to have it. The only answer he had ever gotten was ‘such is the marks of old beasts that watch, the foolish and power-mad who can not tolerate what they can not control’. Jack gathers it was from another ghost, one who somehow knew of and how to find the small ghost that no others seemed to.

He turns his head and smiles as his wife sits down. Maddie looking at the book and smiling herself, speaking quietly, “wonder if either of the kids will see him”.

Jack chuckles, “surely one will! At least one Fenton child always does. Heck! Both me and my brother did”.

Maddie giggles slightly and nods before frowning a little, “I do worry though Jack dear. Neither seem to have any interest. In fact, they almost seem put-off”.

“I wouldn’t give up faith yet Mads. You certainly had no interest when you were their age after all!”.

Maddie giggles and nods, silently joining her husband in flipping trough the heirlooms pages.

ClockWork watches the interaction through one of many viewing portals, smiling ever so slightly. Turning their head to another, watching Daniel teasing and insulting Walker before flying lazily home.

Everything had worked out as it should. Everyone was where and who they needed to be. And yet there was a roadblock. A problem. Daniel’s skill at lying and hiding was a much-needed one, a true necessity. But even a fool could see the rift it caused and how it blocked the future of progress.

Ghost hunters, though needed for their purposes, had become advanced enough to pose threats. Not just to single ghosts, but every ghost, the world even. Such a level of advancement was needed of course, had resulted in Phantom. But now, the Observants were nervous, many ghosts were. Enough so that the Zone itself was being affected by all the negative emotions. That wouldn’t change if change didn’t happen. ClockWork chuckles over such phrasing, they had a plan of course, always did. Ghost hunters needed to change, their opinions needed to change. It had to come from the influential of course, not from ClockWork themselves, that wasn’t their purpose. They were a guider not a symbol of change. No, that was Phantom’s place, Daniel’s place.

Phantom couldn’t be exposed yet, not quite, but the forming rift with his parents would cause issues if it continues to grow before the day came for them to know exactly who and what Daniel was.

Looking back to the portal with the two parents, this provided an opportunity of sorts. ClockWork knows that while they look at this scene, the book, with a slight smile the Observants instead frown. More than a little displeased with ClockWork’s past decision.

See ClockWork always has some plan or another, some idea for the future. That was part of their purpose after all. So of course they did back when humans had first come into existence in genuine, started making the world their bitch so to speak. All the other ghosts at the time, ClockWork’s fellow Ancients, firmly refused the idea that these weak fleshy creatures would ever pose any kind of threat to them. They existed in two different dimensions, sure there were occasionally natural portals between the two planes but all the other mortal creatures never paid any mind to any ghosts causing mischief or hanging about; why would these ‘humans’ be any different.

ClockWork knew better, saw better; so they acted better. Humans would know of ghosts, of course they would, there was no possible future where they would not. And humans were egotistical creatures, things that would steamroll over all other species they could. They also would grow to have a never-ending love for knowledge, that was something ClockWork could appreciate; feel fond of.

So while the other ghosts dismissed these humans ClockWork made plans, made themselves known to the humans. The other ghosts that even knew of ClockWork were uneasy with this but even back then no one questioned ClockWork, well...besides those foolish Observants; who thankfully did not yet exist.

ClockWork appeared to them with careful forethought, let the human capture them, and the knowledge that there really was only two options. Neither of which ClockWork paid any mind. Though fine, technically humans could be blocked out from knowing about ghosts, eliminate any who truly became knowledgable; ClockWork could certainly do that, but that would be far less interesting.

So either humans would know and live in fear, or they would know and come to make it impossible for new earth ghosts to be formed. Both options would make halfas impossible, coexistence impossible. So ClockWork hardly considered them actual options.

Instead letting humans know ghosts, but with the added effect of appealing to their pride. The human belief that they where the top species. That they could crush anything. Simply by showing them weaker ghosts, by altering natural ghost portals, by appearing to them as a guiding hand and without their staff visible, by allowing themselves to be seen as ‘trapped’. And so ClockWork became the stuff of legends to them, and an utter unknown to ghosts; excluding those eyeballs of course.

And why did they exist? The Observants? Well, because their fellow Ancients felt there needed to be overseers, never knowing they already had one in ClockWork. Leaving them with more decisions to make, plans to enact. Of course these knew ghosts would know of ClockWork, be insulted and fearful of the master of time’s power. All beings fear the powerful that they can not control. So these new ghosts would try to control ClockWork, try to force their hand, try to remove or alter them. The Observants, like all creatures, would have motives of their own; would lack objectivity. So either ClockWork was to find a way to hide from them or accept their future actions towards them. Or ClockWork could interfere, alter them to ClockWork’s own design. Bar them from being able to act, from being able to harm. They would be watchers and watchers only. The ghosts would get what they want, and ClockWork would do as ClockWork pleases. Sure ClockWork could just stop them from successfully creating the Observants at all, but where’s the fun in that? Plus, annoying them would become a beloved past time.

So ClockWork lets the other ghosts see these Observants as all powerful overseers; as judge, jury and executioner. Let the Observants fool themselves too. Sure they had enough power to lock up any ghosts that ClockWork, unknowingly to them, let them lock up. But ClockWork would stand as the only executioner, and they knew that.

This decision also helped ClockWork remain an unknown to other ghosts, the Observants didn’t want their lack of power, lack of ability to act, known; and ClockWork was the proof of that. But since ClockWork exists in every different possible future there was, the Observants could never truly control who knew and who didn’t. Only ClockWork could, simply manipulate toward the future they wanted in such a way that the Observants couldn’t so much as object beyond complaining pointlessly.

Smirking at the viewing portal as the two parents head to the lab, it was showtime. ClockWork never appeared to ghost hunters after they finished their apprenticeship, humans need to bloom and blossom of their own accord; else you hurt their egos. But rules were there to be broken and rules couldn’t hold ClockWork. In short, they were a dirty little cheater.

Jack’s leaning over a microscope while Maddie jerks up and gapes, absentmindedly pushing the button to activate the ghost containment cell right where the familiar purple-cloaked ghost floated. She knew shapeshifting ghosts existed and both her and Jack’s time with him was long past. This couldn’t possibly be? Could it? She speaks softly while the ghost just floats there with a soft smirk, “Jack dear, I think you should look at this”.

Jack looks up, a bit caught off guard by his wife’s cautious but awed tone. He promptly drops the slide he was holding, it shattering as it hits the ground, “you? but it can’t be. Why?”.

ClockWork grins, and gives their typical half-truths, “oh I’m not here to play guide for you. I’ve merely made use of the weakened veil here”, gesturing to the Fenton portal, “that is why you find me here”.

Maddie tilts her head, this was clearly not a fake, “we always just thought you stayed in the mortal world somehow or travelled through natural portals”.

“Not all means bare the same outcomes”, ClockWork glances at the stairs, “and maybe you ought research through more wandering means. You might find something interesting”.

Maddie squints slightly, “and what are you going to do. You never need to go through such indirect means to get to new hunters”.

ClockWork smiles, of course this confrontation was completely avoidable but they had a test to give, “you’ll understand in time. There are plenty of paths one could take. Most often the path I point along is walked with me alone. But every so often that road must open to accommodate fellow travellers”.

Maddie and Jack exchange a look before Jack gets up, asking with barely contained excitement, “are you saying we get to help who your guiding! Oh this is so awesome Mads!”.

ClockWork smiles as the two head up the stairs, “we’ll see how the road forks. They’ll find me, no worries about the shield”. Maddie squints back at them, clearly wondering how whoever was going to find them but deciding that they hardly could do harm in the shield and were trustable enough to leave alone. Unaware they could simply teleport out.

Ten minutes later Danny comes home and phases through the ceiling invisibly to empty his thermos, only to pause and gape slightly before chuckling and shaking his head at spotting ClockWork inside the ghost containment cell. Emptying the thermos as he speaks, “hey CW, um why? Not that I’m questioning your ways, but I’m questioning your ways”.

ClockWork floats towards him, separated only by the shield while Danny transforms back human. ClockWork speaking with a slight smile, “you’re mortal guardians are as paranoid as expected to the appearance of ghosts, even those they think fondly of”.

Danny blinks and jerks slightly, “wait, my parents know you? ‘Think fondly’ of you?”, Danny’s not surprised his folks would trap some ghost in the containment cell, that was literally the point. And it’s not like ClockWork actually needed help getting out.

ClockWork gives a slow nod, “but of course. Many ghost hunters do”.

“Why???”.

“The same reason I involve myself in anyone’s existence, to guide them on their path”.

Danny shakes his head, this was a little absurd, “so you’ve been responsible for people becoming hunters? Why would you do that? Wouldn’t it be better for the people that want to obliterate and tear apart molecule by molecule, every ghost, not to know things?”.

ClockWork holds up a hand and gestures around, “dealing with such things, with antagonism, strengthens us and our defences. Of course, only to so many degrees. With humans, we’ve always had two options, bar the mortals from knowing of ghosts or have them know but fear our power. I merely ensured they’d instead believed they could face us in might”.

Danny snorts and rolls his eyes a little, “so you let them believe a lie?”, shrugging, “and fine, if anyone knows that fighting and experiencing all the ways people can come up to hurt you, can make you stronger; then it’s me”.

ClockWork sticks up a finger, “indeed you do, and I let you believe your family would die; lies have their benefits”.

Danny glares slightly, “that was low”.

ClockWork completely dismisses his displeasure, “good truths are always low blows”, smiling slightly, “besides, how better to control who gets to be a hunter and harvest a collection of apprentices”.

Danny blinks at that, “wait, what?”.

ClockWork smirks, Danny could be hard to really surprise or confuse nowadays, “how do you think any of them know anything about ghosts? I’m a wise fellow”, ClockWork gestures to the ghost shield.

Danny blinks at them, “oh my Ancients. Do you just let hunters capture you to teach them random things?”, sure Danny had done the dumbshit and let his folks capture him but they were his parents, family, it was different.

ClockWork just responds like this was perfectly reasonable and expected. “precisely”.

Danny facepalms, speaking with slight humour though, “my guardian is an idiot”.

ClockWork waves him off, “oh hardly, I always know the outcomes. Plus it’s high time your family knows your guardian”, Danny instantly looks rather panicked and disbelieving, so ClockWork continues, “they won’t be bothered, in fact, they’ll find it quite the good sign. A sign you’ll be a ‘helpful’ spector, seeing as they believe you’ll be a ghost”.

Now Danny’s gaping again, “excuse?”.

“Daniel, you set off their detectors and literally can’t be de-ecto-contaminated. Of course, they think you’re going to become a ghost”.

Danny throws his hands out to the side and walks in a little circle, “well that’s news to me”.

“They don’t mention it because they don’t want to scare you”, floating to follow Danny as he walks around the room a little and holding up a finger, “but now you can get them to open up through revealing you at least know the same, without giving away that you know because you already are”, smirking, “thanks to a helpful guardian”.

Danny blinks, realising this’ll pretty much get him off the hook for tons of weird ghostly shit, “you sneaky bastard”. ClockWork gives a devilish grin just before Maddie and Jack come down the stairs.

Jack beams, thinking back on the earlier words of the tiny ghost, “Danny-boy! So you’ve seen the little guy!”, walking up and patting Danny on the shoulder, who just looks confused and a bit freaked out. While Jack keeps talking, hopefully explaining this particular ghost will make his rather ghost fearing son less seemingly freaked, “this one’s the spirit of hunters! Our profession! Always appears before and guides those destined to be hunters! This is great!”, wiping a tear from his eye, “my boy’s gonna be a fine hunter”.

Danny has to hold back a laugh at calling ClockWork ‘the spirit of hunters’ while also deciding to not jump the gun on what his parents actually know about ClockWork, “er and what do you call them?”, Danny deadpanning, “if you say ‘Hunter’ I will be deeply disappointed”.

Maddie shakes her head with a smile, “don't be silly sweetie, this is an important day in your destiny of being a ghost hunter”, smiling at the tiny spirit, “we call him Herne”. Jack butts in, “which is why the name means mythical hunter!”, smiling some, “even if he’s a tiny thing with no abilities to actually hurt anyone with”.

Danny looks at ClockWork, firmly realising humans know goddamn nothing about them. Maybe they weren’t too much of an idiot. Flicking his eyes back to his parents, “no abilities?”.

Jack nods, surely this ghost being weaker will ease his son up some, “being able to form and float is really all he can do”, smiling at the little ghost, “not that that matters, he’s a wise little guy”.

ClockWork chuckles, “yes, foresight and a keen mind makes up for much. Doesn’t it”, holding up a hand, “but I am here for a different reason of sorts”.

Danny’s instantly nervous as his parents look ClockWork with confusion and slight caution.

Jack and Maddie exchange a glance, surely this explained the strange way the little ghost had appeared. Why they caught the ghost and not Danny. Maddie asking, “his paths a little different, isn’t it?”. While Jack frowns slightly, “is he not going to be a hunter?”.

ClockWork smiles softly, “to you I am but a giver of wisdom and guidance, a mentor of sorts and a hand to point in the right direction”, turning to Danny and smiling, while Danny just looks nervous as ClockWork continues, “but to him I am guardian. A mentor in truth and spiritual parent of sorts, for a young little ghost”. Danny does his damnedest to not outwardly cringe over being point-blank called a ghost by a ghost, in front of his parents.

Jack and Maddie go a little wide-eyed before smiling again, Jack beaming at ClockWork, “that’s great! So he’ll be like you then!?! A guiding spirit, rather than like all those malicious ghosts!”, Jack taps his chin, “though that still doesn’t explain why we needed to be seeing you again”.

While Maddie looks more softly at Danny and holds her hands to her chest then, picking up that he seemed a bit nervous but not exactly surprised, “and you’re alright knowing this? That you’ll be a ghost some day? You don’t seem all that surprised”.

Danny rubs his neck, “heh, well I mean, half your stuff already calls me one and all that”. ClockWork thankfully takes mercy on him and adds in, “and after all, we have met before”.

Maddie and Jack both blink at Danny, Jack instantly asking, “well why didn’t you say so Danny-boy?!?”. Though Maddie clues in that Danny not telling them about this was exactly why Herne showed up to them. He decided that they needed to know about this, likely for Danny’s future development. Which means that Danny likely wouldn’t have told them on his own.

Danny glances at ClockWork and gives them the stink-eye, officially not very thankful. Before looking back to his parents, “well, you’ve never actually talked nice about any ghost. And I didn’t want to get into an argument about them”, rubbing his neck a bit and knowing his folks will be a little more than not happy about this in one regard anyway, “they saved my life after all, so it would bug me someone talking bad about them”.

Both of them instantly look to ClockWork, practically beaming at the ghost though fretting over their son even needing his life saved. Maddie nodding at them, “thank you. If we weren’t already on good terms, we would be now”.

Jack throwing an arm around Danny and hugging him a bit protectively, “but what could have put his life in danger? Especially in a way for you to be saving him?”.

Maddie nods and looks a little sheepish, “you’re not exactly a powerful one”.

Danny sends ClockWork a bit of a pleading look because his folks calling basically the strongest ghost ever 'weak', was too absurd and funny for him to not eventually break down laughing over.

ClockWork eyes the ghost shield they’re ‘trapped’ behind, wondering which path the two will take. Trust them and let the shield down or hold on to their ghost bigotry and keep it up. Be the first to really be around them without them being captured in some device or shield. Smirking slightly as Jack, noticing ClockWork’s eyeballing of the shield, promptly deactivates it. ClockWork floats over to pat Danny’s head before turning to the two parents, ClockWork speaking while Danny’s a bit in shock from his parents actually smiling over a ghost touching him, “indeed, there are some ghosts who fear other ghosts with influence. Seek to get rid of them before they can gain said influence”.

Danny knows damn well ‘influence’ is just a subtle way to say ‘powerful’. And he’s also feeling a slightly renewed distaste for the Observants.

Maddie scoffs, “of course those spooks would dislike any ghost,”, glancing at Danny, “or ghosts, that help humans”.

Jack taps his chin, looking to ClockWork, “I imagine these ghosts can’t destroy ones like you?”, looking at Maddie before looking back to ClockWork, “we always thought you avoided being harmed or bothered by other ghosts by simply being unknown to them”.

ClockWork chuckles, “most don’t know of me. But there are other reasons”, looking to Danny, “and they’re welcome to really know me, Daniel. It would be rather mean to have your mortal family not know your ghostly one”.

Danny tilts his head back, “oh thank Ancients”, though he knows damn well ClockWork isn’t fine with them knowing because it would be ‘mean’ otherwise.

ClockWork smirks, “no need to thank me”, Danny makes a face at them for that before chuckling.

Jack smiles, “well I’m glad you have similar humour!”, looking at the little spirit and tilting his head some, “are you saying we don’t know everything about you? That we’re missing a lot?”.

Maddie smiles sweetly at Jack, “Jack dear, he’s never so much as told us if he has a real name. It is expected”.

Danny shakes his head, “I'm kind of amazed you trust them at all then”.

Maddie ruffles Danny’s hair, “well, he is why we are hunters really and he’s harmless”.

Danny chuckles and eyes ClockWork, who nods, “you can tell them much of what you know of me”, smirking mischievously, “I encourage it in fact”.

Danny squints at them and chuckles, “you just want to enjoy causing confusion and startling them”.

ClockWork nods with a slight smile, speaking almost cruelly, “and piss off the Observants, of course”.

Danny blinks and turns fully to them, “you really did just name drop them huh?”, turning back to his parents and rubbing his neck, “Observants, those are the ghosts that tried to ‘get rid of me’”.

Jack scowls, “well we hate them then”.

ClockWork nods, “good, now you’ll never help them”. ClockWork doesn’t need their viewing portals to see the Observants shrieking in annoyance and trashing five different plots to restrict multiple different ghosts.

Danny squints at them, “do you always have to have five different reasons for doing things?”, shaking his head and looking back to his parents and gesturing his arms out to ClockWork, “this is weird but, um, this is ClockWork and they are not even kind of close to the definition of weak or harmless”.

Maddie tilts her head at ClockWork then Danny, “but we’ve scanned him, them, nothing but floating really”. While Jack beams and tries out the name ‘ClockWork’ a few times before asking, “does your name have any meaning?!? Ghost’s names often do”.

Danny squints at ClockWork, Danny knows how he himself tricked their scanners but ClockWork was a full ghost, “how did you even pull that off?”, Danny squints more and really looks ClockWork over before facepalming, “your staff?”. ClockWork’s power was focused in their staff after all.

ClockWork grins and summons their staff, making Maddie blink and get slightly closer to look the staff over quickly; though never actually touching it, “oh! You do actually have some kind of weapon”.

While ClockWork nods at Maddie, “yes and no, this is much more a conduit than a weapon. I do have a scythe as well though”, Danny can’t help but chuckle at that a little; full well knowing that weapon was used exclusively for reaping ghosts that needed to be removed, which was a bit hilarious. While ClockWork promptly startles both of the parents by suddenly changing into their adult form, speaking while they gape at the ghost they only ever knew as a small child-like ghost, “as for my name, it indeed holds plenty meaning. It is, after all, my job and purpose to ensure that the hands on the universe's clock go round and round, until oblivion can no longer be chased off”.

Danny chuckles and shakes his head at ClockWork, who changes to the form of an old man. Danny speaking to his parents, “they mean time control, guys. The very fabric of time is basically theirs to bend and alter”, rolling his hand, “add in being able to see all of the past, present, and every future possible”, looking at ClockWork, “they’re arguably one of the most powerful ghosts there is, not to mention oldest”.

The two adults raise their eyebrows a bit at ClockWork who nods ever so slightly, “I’ve been around since the beginning, guiding the universe along on its most lengthy path. Watching everything grow along exactly as its supposed to be. Of course that also means I plan when each being eventually stops and falls, guide them to when it is best they be destroyed”.

Maddie mutters a bit startled and less than pleased, “so you’re more neutral than good, less altruistic and more manipulative”.

Danny instantly shakes his head, “no, they’re just more altruistic on a universal scale, the bigger picture kind of thing. A true neutral, completely objective, I guess”.

ClockWork nods and speaks while patting Danny’s head, “precisely”, sending the parents a small smile, “I have no interests towards ghosts, nor humans, nor earth; but rather existence and time itself”, chuckling a little and side-eyeing Danny slightly, “and I must say, I’ve certainly pushed and pulled many a thing to ensure Daniel exists precisely as he does and will”.

Jack blinks at Danny and pats him on the shoulder, “is he really going to be that important?”, chuckling at Danny, “no pressure son”.

Danny barely stops himself for muttering ‘too late’ and instead just nods slightly. While Maddie’s releasing that this ghost can’t truly be trusted, humans were not where their priorities lay. But that they absolutely did have her son's survival? benefit? well-being? happiness? -well, maybe not that last one. Something tells her that ClockWork would harm or traumatise anyone for the sake of the universe- at their metaphorical heart.

ClockWork smirks, “that is for time to know and the world to see. But if you must know, him simply existing as he does has saved the world more than once”. Danny has to resist cringing at that, seeing as they were pretty effectively leaving out him causing it once.

Jack beams at that, his boy was already doing good! Somehow. Promptly hugging Danny, “good for you Danny-boy! Though I wonder how you managed that?”.

Everyone looks to ClockWork then, full well knowing they know exactly how. They simply smirk, “now that would be telling, wouldn’t it. The simplest of things can change everything, even picking up a rock verses not, could alter everything. Even how much someone knows or doesn’t, can”.

Danny chuckles a little fondly, which his parents definitely pick up on, while Danny speaks, “you’re always an enigma huh”.

Jack and Maddie smile a little fondly, though feeling like outsiders a bit as the two seem to one-up each other in sounding confusing. They both knew their boy was a bit odd, an enigma, so clearly they were two of a kind. That makes it clear Danny’s future lied with this ghost, rather than their profession; whatever that actually meant. Maddie decides to push that, he’s their boy, they should know what his job/future was/would be. Looking at ClockWork, “you’ve still got a way with words, but what are you even guiding Danny with?”.

ClockWork gives both the honest answer and the most confusing one, “everything and nothing. The same as that which you do, except with less restraints and a finger in every pie”, smiling at Danny, “a Guardian has the role of parent when dealing with ghosts”.

Jack’s a bit confused but that’s pretty come-by, “but ghosts don’t need to be taught how to ghost?”.

Maddie shakes her head slightly and tilts her head, “But what is he going to be doing?”.

ClockWork pats Danny’s head, they were not wrong, even with a halfa. Though no ghost just knew how the Zone’s politics worked. But the existence of many levels of law and government within the Zone was not for them to know, not yet. “But of course, ghosts know themselves well, but not so much other ghosts. After all, have you met any who know of me? And”, holding up a finger and smirking at Maddie, “everything. He’ll find there’s little he won’t do”.

Maddie blinks and mutters, “are you trying to say he’s going to be all powerful or control ghosts”.

Danny makes a damn point not to react, considering the whole High Ghost Prince thing, meaning his mom was absolutely right. Though he then gapes at ClockWork and throws his hands out to the side as they promptly teleport away with a twirl of their staff and a wink. Danny groans at the thin air where they used to be, “seriously time-pants?”.

Jack and Maddie both can’t help but laugh while Danny grumbles more while looking at them, “they always make their timing dramatic”.

Jack nods a little, “I did nearly face-plant into them when they showed up for me”. Maddie giggles a little but nods, “they startled me enough that I set my original college application on fire”.

Danny snorts, “tossed through a time portal and slammed my face into a giant bell, five times”. Jack chuckles, “that’s way more silly”.

Maddie nods but looks Danny over, “do you know what that wink meant?”.

“Probably five different things. One part is definitely just to cause mischief and drama. Could be referring to a possible future or just wants to let someone think that’s the case”, is Danny lying a little? Yeah. Is he just going to out the whole prince/future king thing? Ancients no.

Maddie shakes her head and mutters, “now I'm questioning everything to do with them“.

Danny snorts and goes to walk upstairs, “either question everything or accept everything. Both at the same time? I go with that”.

Jack mutters as Danny leaves fully, “I don’t think you can do that really”.

ClockWork watches through a viewing portal, the questions were in place and, watching with a slight smirk as pissed off Observants inadvertently knock a very particular book from the future through a strategically placed portal and lands on the Fenton lab floor, said questions would be answered.

While Jack spots the glowing book and gets a little excited, the two instantly start flipping through to find it’s a storybook, a book telling the tale of a legend.

A king of youth in a castle of dark brick, lording over a word of mythical creatures of the dead persuasion. Spoken of as kind and just, yet powerful and resolute. A black and white dragon, with eyes that see every shade. Who proved his strength through countless battles, and a battered body that moved with pride. Who proved his mind through quick-witted wordplay, and hiding amongst the enemy.

But what really caught the parents’ eyes were the black and gray pictures, the sketches. Largely of landscapes, the castle of course and the flora filled land surrounding it. But also some of a blazing crown and extravagant cape, a sword of ice carved with flowers and skulls. Though they trace their fingers over the silhouette drawing of this king, swinging the sword at another figure with a near-identical physique but flaming hair and snake tongue. It’s titled ‘First Trial’. The king could easily be an older Danny, but they couldn’t be certain.

But what really makes them pause and share a glance is a landscape piece, where a strange clocktower could be seen in the background. Surrounded by floating gears, much the same as the one ClockWork wore for a clasp.

Maddie squints down at the image and runs off looking for a microscope, coming back and hovering it over one of the windows in the clocktower to see ClockWork -in child form- winking right at her with a circular something showing the image of her and Jack leaning over this very book. Maddie jerking back and whispering, “Zone that cheeky bastard”, before flipping to the last page. Both parents blinking down at a familiar-sounding quote signed with a fanciful yet nearly illegible ‘CW’.

“Existence is a story we weave, but a story unread is a story yet to be solidified. What we know can change everything, and once knowledge is written and known, it becomes something to last forevermore”.

Jack scratches his head and mutters, “did we just ensure Danny would become a king or something, or a paradox would happen?”.

Maddie knits her fingers together and speaks into her hands, “I think we did”.

Neither parent’s sure whether they should scream and be pissed or be proud.

ClockWork simply smiles while two Observants float in demanding, “ClockWork, what did you do”.

“My job”.

“It’s your job to watch time, not play favourites. He will destroy us”.

ClockWork turns and levels them with an unreadable gaze, “you mean further restrict and take your power? Precisely. Just because I am not a player on the field doesn’t mean I’m not in control. Time is the field board, and I tilt as I please. You’re simply referees, you are nothing without the players and you’ve been betting on the wrong ones. All in the name of your search for dominance. For those you could control or who lacked the strength to ever stand against you. But in the end”, ClockWork floats to be closer to them almost menacingly, “this game is played in a grandiose casino, and the house always wins in time”.

End.

#Danny Phantom #phandom #clockwork #tropes #play-along prisoner #take a third option #ghost prince danny #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #Observants #making clockwork even more op #reveal #origin myths #mythology

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