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bubblegumbeech · 3 years

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The Losing Move

Day two Ectoberhaunt: Scream vs Laugh

AO3

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

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

Not even them.

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

“Did you hesitate?” he asked.

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

“No.”

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

It wasn’t long before the others appeared.

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

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

“It has.”

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

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

Clockwork sighed. “Not long.”

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

“I know.”

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

He knew that too.

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

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

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

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

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

Clockwork hadn’t looked. He looked now.

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

Nocturn smiled, “How fitting.”

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

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

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

It would come to nothing once more.

Soon.

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

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

Or at least, he’d given half of it.

The Observants, of course, were furious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll take that under consideration.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyone would really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He held the Thermos in his hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the direction of the Observants.

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

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

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

“ You-! ”

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

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

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

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

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

“You must deal with this.”

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

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

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

“Nocturn, you’re early.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he would be free.

Finally, finally free.

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

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

When Daniel finally visited again Clockwork had made cookies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Daniel just blinked. “Oh.”

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

He felt a tug on his sleeve.

“Clockwork…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you?”

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

They didn’t meet at the Clocktower this time.

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

“Have you found her yet?” Misery asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think they’ll make it?”

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

Nocturn nodded and took a sip of his tea.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fire went out.

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

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

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

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

There was only silence.

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

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

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

And he knew who was behind it.

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

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

What had he placed on Clockwork’s neck?

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

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

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

No…

The necklace…

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

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

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

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

A trap.

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

Clockwork froze time.

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

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

Pariah kept moving though.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

So that was all it took…

Pariah was right, it had been a miscalculation indeed.

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

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

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

“Fuck you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“Pity.”

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

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

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

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

“You were going to leave.”

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

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

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

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

“I figured it out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Clockwork was distraught that he did not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was it not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just enough.

He sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had certainly survived.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had truly lost, hadn’t he?

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

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years

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Dream SMP Recap (June 24-25/2021) - Cow Quackity / S.U.S. Toll Company

After Quackity turns into a cow and Wilbur eats him on Bad’s chill stream, the two make a hit song together.

Later, George joins in and things become even more chaotic.

The next day, while working on “L’Wallburg” to compete with Bad’s apartment in the same area, Foolish has the idea to join forces with Bad instead of competing all the time. The two get together with Ponk to create their new tollbooth company:

Super Umbrella Scheme

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VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

BadBoyHalo

Foolish

Captain Puffy

[Foolish’s second VOD was deleted]

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JUNE 24

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- Ponk, dressed up as Robin, notices Sam AFK by the bank. They try to get some Pillagers to attack Sam, but it doesn’t work

- Instead, Ponk pushes Sam into the spider spawner, then releases the spiders and watches Sam get eaten alive

- With Sam dead, Ponk puts his things in a chest and takes the Netherite set, leaving everything else. He goes to hide it

- Later, Ponk meets Foolish at the Community House as Robin and Batman. They go down into the basement to discuss. They may need new identities. Their crime-fighting days are over

- Ponk tells him that they are going to be Sherlock Holmes and Watson. That’s the extent of the report, so the two of them part ways

- Back at the valley, Ponk puts up a giant Foolsamponk picture and a photo of a rice cooker

- Bad and Wilbur log on. Bad notices a new structure built where the L’Sandburg tollgate used to be and wonders who’s behind it. Bad has been building up L’Sandburg’s walls in the meantime

- As Bad searches around for Wilbur in Las Nevadas, Quackity joins VC and gets a cow as a stand-in. Bad spots Wilbur nearby

- Bad tells Wilbur that the cow is Quackity and puts a leash on him, explaining that a witch turned him into one similar to how George was turned into a pig

- Wilbur asks where he can find food around here, and Bad tells him he can kill the cows in the pen. Bad tries to explain to Quackity how he is a cow. Wilbur asks Bad to tell Quackity that Wilbur wants to eat him

- Wilbur sets Quackity on fire, but Bad puts him out with water. Wilbur says Quackity looks tasty. Bad throws him bread and steak, but Wilbur refuses

Wilbur: not as succulent as him

- Bad leads Quackity over to the Eiffel Tower away from Wilbur. Wilbur opens Bad’s stream to find them

- Wilbur joins VC and Quackity asks if it’s true that Wilbur wants to eat him. They start discussing lactose intolerance

- Wilbur sets off TNT, then lights cow Quackity on fire. Bad is unable to save him and the Quackity cow drops a piece of steak. Wilbur asks for the meat

- Meanwhile, Quackity as a human has come over to Las Nevadas. They set off more TNT

- Wilbur holds a piece of steak and munches on it, telling Quackity that it’s his meat. Quackity asks how he tastes and Wilbur begins describing it in great detail

- Quackity asks him to describe the texture and Wilbur does, again, in great detail. (I'm not going to transcribe this)

- Wilbur then walks over to DogChamp, saying he would kill the dog for another bite. They quickly stop him. Wilbur tells Bad to get him more Quackity meat. He then turns to Quackity and tells him to turn into a cow so that Wilbur can cook him up and eat his meat

- Quackity goes over to the cow pen to be with the other cows so that he can become one and starts mooing

- Wilbur kills another cow. Quackity has taken off his clothes and continues mooing

- Wilbur takes the initiative to end the bit

- They swim over to Eret’s pyramid with Wilbur repeating everything Quackity says in an American accent. They discuss what animal Wilbur would be. Perhaps a sheep. Bad finds a cod in the ocean and decides on that

- They go up to Ponk’s base and look at the photos. They notice that Sam is crossed out in one of them but don’t know why

Quackity: “Do you wanna have sex in this room?”

- Bad goes to tell him “language” and Quackity scolds him for walking in on them. Wilbur considers it, then mines the floor out from under Quackity, who falls to his death

Quackity: “Is that a yes?”

Wilbur: “I like a man who can take kinetic energy.”

- Bad gets a crossbow. Quackity has an announcement: the wine stream is still happening!

- Quackity gets back to the pyramid and falls to his death again. While they retrieve his items, they chat about fan interactions

- Quackity wants to adopt the dog that played Beethoven in the Beethoven movie and Wilbur breaks the news to him that the dog is probably dead. Quackity doesn’t want Tom Arnold on a leash, and they find out that during the filming the filmmakers apparently used a “mechanical dog-dog suit”

- Wilbur explores the Beethoven fandom Wiki

- They talk about music they’ve been working on. Bad says if Quackity keeps swearing, he will “break out the hammer”

- Quackity shows his recent project. Wilbur says it’s “bloody-muffin-fucking great”

- Wilbur and Quackity work on the song together. The sound is...beyond words

- When they are finished, Quackity says that he thinks Wilbur is giving him too much credit, and he should instead be on the feature list. He wants Wilbur to have this song

- Wilbur declines, saying he would be honored if Quackity didn’t put Wilbur’s name on the song

- Quackity thinks Wilbur should feature it as a Lovejoy song. Wilbur has joined a new band to release the song called “Placeholder,” after which he will immediately disband the band

- Quackity tells him that the song is Wilbur’s baby and he really wants Wilbur to have it. Wilbur tells Quackity that he loves him and that Quackity should have the song. Quackity says he would die for Wilbur, and that Wilbur should have the song

- Wilbur says he will name his firstborn "Quackity,” and he thinks Quackity should have the song. Quackity says he will name all his future family members “Wilbur Soot” (pronounced ‘suit’)

- Wilbur then says he will kill endangered animals for Quackity

Bad: “That’s not something you should do!”

Wilbur: “I will do it for love.”

- Bad asks if he can have the song. Quackity doesn’t say his next bit aloud

- Wilbur understands that Quackity would do that, but he would physically drown for Quackity to have the song

- Quackity says that he will get an astrophysics license, fly a rocket into the moon to get in a national story so that when they find the notepad on his phone, Quackity’s one will would be for Wilbur to have the song and release it under his name without any credit to Quackity

- Wilbur understands this, but says that he would invent a Doomsday device the likes of which the world has never seen and will never see again with which he would hold the world hostage with one message: to tell the world that this song is written solely by Quackity

Wilbur: “That’s what I’d do for you.”

Quackity: “...Okay!”

Wilbur: “Cool, alright, now we’re settled. Hey, Bad, how’re you doing man.”

Bad: “Hi! I’m so perplexed.”

Wilbur: “I’ve got a Doomsday device to make.”

- Bad befriends a pig and names it George. He leads the pig and the red sheep away from Las Nevadas. They continue chatting for a while at the Punzo Chunk

- Later on, George, “master of lore,” joins in

- Bad shows them the heads he got from DreamXD and offers to trade Karl’s to get Ant’s, Sam’s and Puffy’s from Foolish. Wilbur asks how one gets heads, and Bad tells the story of DreamXD logging on

- Bad gives George his own head and George logs off. Bad offers Karl’s head and George returns, so Bad kills him and gets his head back. George drops a stack of nametags, a stack of TNT and a stack of levers

- Bad repeatedly murders George and sees a squid that flies

- George chases after Quackity trying to kill him with a bone. Quackity runs, setting everything on fire behind him. Bad follows and tries to put everything out. George eventually kills Quackity, then Bad kills George

- Bad accuses George of abusing his op powers to get Netherite armor as George chases him down

- Wilbur sings the Drake and Josh theme song in an American accent while George attempts to murder Bad in a pit

- George accuses Bad of turning the server off, but Bad says it’s a scheduled restart

- George kicks them from the server and un-whitelists them both

- Quackity gets back on and slays George

- The three of them continue to spar some more for fun

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JUNE 25

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- While Foolish works on building a room by the Punzo Chunk to compete with Bad’s, Bad logs on and drops by

- Bad tells him he’s building in Bad’s apartment. Foolish tells him he’s just making L’Wallburg

- Bad says he will charge Foolish rent to live here, but Foolish declines

- They argue back and forth about whose place it is as they work on the walls

- Foolish has the idea to join forces

Foolish: Bad what if we are landlords together

Bad: o_o

Foolish: we have been fighting for afar too long

Foolish: What if we put are talkents togerth

Bad: o_o

- Bad says he’s charging rent. Foolish asks what if he charges Bad rent. They argue about charging rent on each other

- Bad charges Foolish 850 diamonds. Foolish tells him that Bad has been on his property for five minutes, which means he must pay 9,000 diamonds

- Again, Foolish suggests they instead work together. Bad brings up the idea of taking over a central location like the community Nether portal that they can charge people for. Foolish likes the idea

- They work on the apartment some more and start bickering over who’s caused more problems in their rivalry. Foolish attempts to explain it metaphorically

Foolish: “There was once a shiny rock, okay? And this shiny rock was just trying to go to the ocean and have a good time and lay there in peace. But then, this crusty old seaweed came along to the seashore and just got up all in the shiny rock’s business. And then the shiny rock became a little more dull with the weight of death looming, Bad.”

- Bad takes offense to this and also claims that he made Foolish’s build much better by adding a tollgate to it

- They negotiate percentages of the profits and head off to the Nether portal. Foolish asks if Bad has a suit. Bad replies that not only does he look very dashing already, but the last time he wore a suit, he tried to kill a lot of people

- Foolish suggests they call it the Ratgate. They wall off the portal

- While visiting the summer home, Foolish finds out about the new building on the path. The two suspect a third party may be at play

- Foolish tells Bad about how they have a tollgate set up in Las Nevadas. Bad is offended that Foolish made him take down his tollgate but set one up elsewhere. They start arguing again over who had rightful claim to the path

- They admire their work on the new tollbooth. If people don’t pay the toll, they die

- They rehearse it. Foolish switches personas and becomes a L’manburg Llama who asks Bad where L’manburg is -- he heard they needed his help a few months ago

- Foolish critiques Bad’s performance, as Bad didn’t ask for the toll. Bad said he still got something out of it -- a nice compliment

- They rehearse it a second time, this time with Foolish as Palpatine. It ends with Bad attempting to kill him

- As they discuss how the second rehearsal went, Ponk logs on and walks through the portal while they’re distracted

- They go through after him to seek him down. If they let him get away, they would be the laughing stock of the tolling community. Foolish wonders if they’re dealing with Ponk or Robin

- They find her at the summer home. Ponk runs into his shack and they knock on the door

- Ponk comes out of the shack and they tell him that they’re vacuum salesmen. Once inside the shack, they confront him about the toll

- Ponk doesn’t buy their claims and they go back to the tollbooth. They tell them to pay with compliments

- Ponk retrieves a book from his Ender Chest and goes up one of the tollbooth towers to place a piece of TNT. He tells them that he has claimed the tower

- Ponk starts running, placing TNT all over while the two chase after to attack

- After “the Battle of the Nether Portal” subsides, Ponk gives them the compliments

Ponk: “Bad, is your nickname ‘Google?’ Because you’re all I’m searching for.”

...

Ponk: “Did you get your suit at Dollar General, Foolish?”

- Because Foolish takes some offense to this, Ponk throws him some Netherite ingots. Bad wants that compliment

- Ponk and Bad go up into Ponk’s tower to whisper amongst themselves. Ponk is going to record this and use it as part of the lore suit against Bad. Bad already has ten lawyers

- They go back down and Ponk tells Foolish that Bad said the toll doesn’t have to be paid. Bad is confused, and Foolish pulls Bad aside for a meeting behind a wall of TNT to whisper amongst themselves

- Foolish points out that they could use a third person for the tolling business, and Ponk’s the most trustworthy person Foolish knows

- They go back to Ponk with the business proposal. Foolish says if Ponk makes enough money, they’ll give Ponk a Supreme car at the end of the year

- Ponk becomes sad at this, because Bad destroyed the Supreme Fridge and that’s why Ponk is suing him and Puffy

- Bad says that Foolish allowed them to demolish it. Foolish quickly denies this, but Bad claims he has a written document signed by Foolish. Upset, Ponk asks if this is true. Bad says Puffy has it

- Ponk isn’t sure who to believe anymore

- After they spot Bad lurking beneath the rainbow, they hold him at knifepoint asking for his pot of gold

- Foolish suggests the three of them forget everything that’s happened and just run their tollbooth together. Ponk proposes they tear down Bad’s house instead

- As they explain a potential plot to toll everyone further, though, Ponk starts to come around to the idea. Foolish wonders if they should toll the prison. Bad says they should toll everything

- The next place they decide to toll is the Community House, and they start setting up gateways there. Foolish asks Bad who he would hypothetically be in an alternate Batman universe. Bad would be Alfred

- They decide on a name for their tollbooth company:

“Super Umbrella Scheme,” or S.U.S.

- They do another rehearsal at the Community House gate. It goes very well

- They go to the spider spawner. Bad has to leave, and Ponk speaks with Foolish one-on-one, leading him down the tunnel to the Eggpire cloak room to search through the chests. Foolish hesitantly peeks around the corner into the Egg Room...

- Ponk tells him they’ve got their next disguises as Watson and Holmes. Sam has mentioned that he’s missing a sword and wants to hire them to find it

- With that said, they say their goodbyes and leave

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

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genderfluidtechnoblade · 3 years

Note

Hello! I am here to please ask for a crash course on Vault Hunters! I watched HBomb's stream mid season 1, was confused, then I watched Pete's first episode and I was very confused and gave up. But I would love to watch hbomb and pete's streams so understanding vault hunters would be so good. - cat

CRACKS MY KNUCKLES. LADIES AND GENTS THIS IS THE MOMENT YOU'VE WAITED FOR.

vault hunters is an smp created by iskall hermitcraft<3 and his dev team! vault hunters is a custom mod pack including several custom mods as well as mods you may recognize if you've been into the mcyt/minecraft mod scene for a while (mechanism, biomes o'plenty, create, etc)

the goal of vault hunters is to collect a certain number of unique artifacts- last season it was 16, this season it's 25. artifacts are a rare drop that you get from killing a boss at the end of a vault. a vault is a custom dimension that creates a randomly generated labyrinth that the player has to go through. the vaults have chests/loot, multiple rare ores, and monsters protecting them. when a vault is created, it spawns about 10 obelisks total (grey pillars in the middle of the room), and a player has to find anywhere between 3 to 6 of them to spawn the boss and defeat it. once you enter a vault, if you die you lose everything you have on you with no chance of recovering it, and the only way to escape is to kill the boss or to leave the way you came through the portal (but sometimes the vaults are locked and you CANT leave)

the vault custom mods create lots of custom items to help with the vaults, such as more powerful magical apples (they can give haste, complete immunity to all damage, a higher chance of deflecting damage, and even more luck!), vault gear (which is the armor that everyone wears- its custom textures, and its stronger than vanilla OR modded armor. it can also "level" and get attributes that make it stronger, such as more armor, more durability, and special modifications like slow falling or resistance), and other miscellaneous things to help the hunters.

the vault custom mods also generates rare ores that are vault gems. these gems glow brightly, and each hunter has one named after them (in season one, hbomb and antonio ash didn't have gems named after them, but rendog did, even after he dropped out and was unable to keep playing <3). these rare gems are important to create many of the custom vault items, AND because many modded recipes have been altered to be more expensive and to include these rare gems.

mods are locked behind research as well, so a player has to save up "knowledge points" (a very rare and expensive item) in order to be able to use certain mods, which means that some players can do things that others cant with certain mods. certain items from mods you may recognize may have been removed, or made more expensive with custom ingredients so the player is forced to work and save up to get powerful items.

there is also the concept of leveling- vault hunters is a viewer interaction based game. every time a viewer supports their streamer with a sub, a resub, bits of any amount, a sub gift of any amount, or a donation, this triggers an amount of leveling to the in game level counter. the larger the contribution, the larger the level up. after a certain amount of support, the player reaches a new skill level. every skill level increase, the vaults become harder (the mobs will receive more armor, better weapons, and more difficult mobs like skeletons and vindicators are added to the spawn pool) and the player receives a "skill point" they can use to unlock certain attributes to help in the vault, such as more hearts, permanent strength increases, permanent luck increases, and other miscellaneous helpful things.

(IMPORTANT: YOU CAN STILL AFFECT LEVELING WITHOUT MONEY! no this isn't a plug for twitch prime. saving up channel points to redeem a relic booster pack will help the player level up AND get items! its a two for one! pay your taxes!)

these are the core aspects of vault hunters, imo- everything else that can seem complicated stems from the concepts of running vaults, the mods that are installed, the mods that have been altered, and the reason viewer interaction is important. vault hunters is also on a time limit- there are only a few months in order to get all of the artifacts! thats why pete and hbomb stream it basically every day (especially pete, since he joined a month late to the smp... also because its a really fun game lmao)

iskall's dev team and iskall himself worked really hard on vault hunters, and it's genuinely my favorite smp/source of mcyt content. if you ever have a question dm me i will literally give you my discord and i will infodump at you for as long as you will let me.

tldr; the point of vault hunters is to run custom dungeons in order to fight bosses and get lots of shiny loot in order to do it over and over again, so they can collect all of the rare artifacts and win the game. its very good you should watch it.

#i am a normal dsmp blog :)#((VAULT HUNTERS SUPREMACY VAULT HUNTERS SUPREMACY VAULT HUNTERS SUPREMACY))#come closer :)#asks #anon

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jjmjjktth · 3 years

Text

Prologue: The Escape

First - Previous - Next - Masterlist - (ao3)

I saw this fic idea by @messymessyml and couldn’t help myself. I tagged the people who asked to be tagged on the original post; if you want to be added comment or send an ask ;)

Damian is 16 and Marinette is a month shy of 16 at the beginning of the fic.

the characters may be a tad OOC.

TW: Bullying, cursing (it’s censored but still there)

Damian stormed into the cave through the zeta tube. Everyone moved aside; they had not seen a look of such fury since he had first come to Gotham. Despite him not being the violent assassin he was raised to be, Robin found himself nearly following through with his usual threats. Not even bothering to discard his equipment, the heir walked straight to one of the side rooms for private discussions. As predicted, his father followed him. No doubt for a lecture.

Spinning around to face his father, Damian took a deep breath. I can’t lose my head, it won't help my case.

“Father….” there was so much defeat and anger in his voice that the bat seemed to almost reconsider his decision, almost. Robin watched his Father lift his hand to stop him from speaking any further, and begin to address him.

“It was the right call, Damian. It had to be done. You cannot just run around with superpowers. I had to deal with that.”

“It wasn’t your call.” The teen growled. “I had an advantage, Father! It would have been hard for Mother to kill me again! I was safe.”

“You do not need powers to be safe, Damian.”

“I died because I was too slow. It wasn’t your call to remove my safety net! It was mine!”

“I am your father! Everything is my call!” Daman could see that this was going nowhere. Setting his face into a scowl, he left the cave.

Left with his thoughts as he navigated through the maze-like halls of Wayne Manor, the young hero began to negotiate with himself; beginning a difficult game of mental tug-of-war. Weighing the pros and cons proved to be harder than he originally thought; it started with admitting that he may have become attached to his “siblings”, at least more than he would have originally thought he could be. On the other hand, they treated him one of two ways, all of the time; he was always either a child or a weapon. At the very least they should be able to treat him like his actual age! But, they also cared for him a lot… in their own way. On top of that, the manor was a hugely more beneficial environment than the league ever was. His mother would also have a harder time reaching him here. That didn't stop her before. Despite how “safe” this place was said to be, his mother still found a way to kill him for his change in loyalty. If he left, he would surely be caught. If you stay, she will know you’re here and plan accordingly.

Slowly the pros started to outweigh the cons making his decision obvious, he would run away tonight.

It wasn’t until he arrived in his room that he realized he was still wearing his uniform. Not wanting to return to the cave, the heir simply folded the uniform and placed it at the end of his bed. No doubt Pennyworth would retrieve it in the morning. He glanced around his room. There weren't any decorations aside from the occasional painting or katana. Making up his mind, Damian went through his few belongings that mattered. He had to be careful to find ones that would not have a tracking device in them. I’ll have to go to my safehouse for clothes. He gathered up all his weapons that wouldn't be noticed gone and wouldn't be flagged by airport security. Putting everything in a bag, he snuck out his window and took off for his apartment. Leaving only a note that read, I need space, I will be at one of my safehouses, off grid.

___________Marinette pov______________

“You b*tch!” a loud slap echoed across the school courtyard. “Not only are you a liar and a bully, you’re a thief too!” Alya screamed, waving her hands around. “That’s Lila’s life’s work and you just claim it as your own! Lazy, fat, sl*t!”

“But, Alya! I have my sig–”

“I didn’t say you could speak, wh*r*.” Alya said, grabbing the designer’s shirt. “You are going to stand up; walk over to Lila; apologise; and give her her sketchbook back. Understand b*tch.”

“No.” Mari took a deep breath and shoved her building emotions back down into their designated corner. “I will not apologise to Lila because I did–”

“What did you say b*tch!”

“I said no.”

“You piece of sh*t.”

At this point Marinette just tuned her ex-best friend out. She always said the same things. So the heroine only waited.

After school Marinette left for home immediately; she did not want to be in any trouble for being late for her shift. With twenty minutes to spare, the girl leapt up the stairs three-at-a-time to reach her room with enough time for concealer. She would probably be grounded for operating the register with marks on her face. It’s a good thing that my miraculous has healing properties or I wouldn't be able to work at all.

While at the till, a swarm of wasps swept through the shop stinging everyone, except Marinette. As soon as she saw the wasps, she took off for the walk-in freezer in the back of the bakery. Tikki fazed through the door to see when it would be clear to leave the freezer.

“All clear Marinette!” Tikki chirped.

“Thanks.” The hero swung open the door and took off running for the Seine.

Upon arriving at he famous river, Marinette dove into the water scattering the trail of wasps behind her. Pulling out the water powerup, Mari was amazed to discover that even underwater the macaroon did not get soggy, but remained its usual texture and firmness. Calling for her transformation again, Ladybug sprinted to Master Fu’s location unaware of the villain tailing her.

“Master Fu! May I use the snake miraculous?” With a nod, Master Fu pulled out the miracle box and selected the snake miraculous.

“Thank you!” LB called out as she left merging the two miraculous. Lately, Marinette had taken to using the ladybug and snake miraculous together having taken the cat miraculous away from Adrien.

Arriving in front of the town hall, Ladybug surveyed the battlefield. In front of the akuma, Miracle Queen, stood all her previous allies: Adrien, Luka, Ivan, Nino, Max, Alya, and Kagami. They all appear to have been stung by the wasps. At that moment, Hawkmoth arrived bearing the miracle box! Hawkmoth passed the box to Miracle Queen and the students stepped forward to take their respective jewels. All but two, Luka and Adrien. Ladybug had both of those miraculous on her person (the black cat miraculous was in her yoyo) She was about to enter the battle when Master Fu leapt over the building in pursuit of the villain weilding the turtle as Jade Turtle. At that moment Ladybug engaged the various villains calling for her second chance.

As she landed, Pegasus opened a portal to space. Reactivating second chance she tried again, and again, and again, and again. Until she managed to take the dragon and horse miraculous back.

There was a rush of wind and all the holders before her, except Hawkmoth and Myura, were stripped of their miraculous as a light formed above her head. Oh no, Master Fu! The miracle box fell into her hands. Using the destraction Ladybug broke and purified the akuma.

She ran to Master Fu as quickly as she could.

“Master Fu! Are you okay?” She waited with baited breath.

“Hello, young lady, do I know you?” There went any hope I had.

“No, I’m just a concerned citizen.”

I dropped off the miracle box in my room before releasing Tikki from my transformation and entering the bakery through the front. Her parents were there, waiting for her.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Sabine said smiling at Marinette with daggers for eyes.

“Yes, Maman.” Nope. Nope. Nope. Not today. Not ever.

As soon as Marinette reached her room, she pulled out the miracle box, a backpack of clothes and sewing supplies, and her toiletries (she could pull money out of her account later if needed). Opening the box, Marinette took out the horse miraculous releasing Kaalki.

“Master F– where is Master Fu, Marinette.”

“Gone, he relinquished his guardianship when hawkmoth cornered him.” She put on the glasses. “I need an escape; is that ok Kaalki?”

“Of course guardian.”

The girl called for Kaalki’s transformation, summoned a portal, gathered her belongings, and walked through.

Authors notes will be at the end from now on (minus warnings and such)

what should i call this story?

Smiles and love, Jjmjjktth <3 :)

Next - Masterlist

Taglist: @swiftie-miraculer13 @messymessyml

#maribat #marinette #salt #damian wayne #the bats #daminette #paris has a hawkmoth problem #toodles #wip #young hearts are easily broken

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sassooda · 3 years

Text

Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 16 - Observer 🔞

w/c - 6,503

Choso’s curiosity has been getting the best of him lately. He remains mindful in his duties but he can’t help but research in his spare time, knowing that the unknown is slowly eroding away at him.

Yesterday, he had some updates about Itadori’s control over Sukuna, which he muddles in an attempt to pull Getou’s attention from him, so he made his way to Getou’s room to deliver the report. He heard crashing sounds and grunts but knew better than to simply open the door. As he leaned into it though, he began to hear the muffled cries of a woman, some sounding comparable to Elska’s but the rest resembling horror. To his dismay, he became intrigued and decided that he should take a peek using his observer’s technique.

Choso quickly strolled his way back to his office and shuts the door behind him. He places his phone on his desk and sits down in the swiveling leather chair. He removes the tie from his hair in an attempt to relax. He hesitates for a moment, feeling a little dirty about his intentions for doing this but he really needs to know more. While still sitting, he turns his back to the door and draws an oval shaped design into the air. He closes his eyes and focuses on mapping the trail to Getou’s room, a much simpler task than transporting people. When he finishes, his eyes open and before him is now a real time vision of what was happening in there.

He sees Getou mounting a curvy black-haired woman who’s bound up in chains but face down on her knees. Choso is confused because although it looks sort of like what Naoya was doing to Elska, Getou seems to be hurting the girl in front of him. She’s not crying but her expression definitely reads distress in contrast to his that has an engrained smile accompanied by laughter. He can’t see much from this approach but catches sight of Getou’s length as he begins to harshly administer repetitive full thrusts, ramming the woman into the floor. Her entire body jolts with each round which seems to excite Getou further as he taunts her “I knew you were a slut.” Choso was trying to take away as much as he could from this display but couldn’t help but feel Getou was doing it wrong…Naoya’s approach seemed a lot less, well selfish. He hears the woman grunt into a whine, “I didn’t say you could cum yet bitch.” Getou began striking the woman with her own chains and he decided that was enough…he didn’t care to see anymore. He remembers the shiver that crossed his body as he released the technique, forming even more contempt for the man he worked for.

Today though he thought, ‘Maybe I should try her…’. It’s been a long one but he found himself with extra time since he didn’t need to be on medical standby, everyone was at the base. He sits down in his chair like before but less relaxed for he doesn’t know what he’s going to see… ‘hopefully nothing like yesterday’. He again traces the oval in the air before his eyes shut until he can once again navigate the distance and map the path. Once he’s completed this he opens his eyes quickly to the sounds leading from the window like projection.

He sees Elska riding Gojo, although he wouldn’t know to use such vocabulary. His mouth drops at the full view, being thankful for whatever it was in that room that created the shadow he could infiltrate. It’s as if he’s sitting across from the couch, only mere feet away. Now he can see exactly how it’s done.

His eyes are completely honed into how Gojo and her are connected, where and how she’s making him to move in and out of her. Their moans hitch his breath. He finds himself with that strange feeling, that overwhelming tingling that makes him grab himself through the cloth of his pants again. He notices that his own meaty extension is becoming firmer, throbbing in response to the naughty sights playing out before him. When she gets up, he frowns and sighs thinking that he must have caught the end of it but she soon sits back down on him, leaving Choso to see now her face and breasts.

She’s definitely having a better time than Getou’s woman. Her expression is soft with furrowed brows and an open mouth. He finds it interesting that she seems so overwhelmed but is controlling the situation and doesn’t slow down. A high-pitched “Ahh!” leaves her as he watches Gojo’s smile widen. He’s doing something with one of his hands but Choso isn’t at the right angle to view it. Whatever it was, she seems to really like it.

He leans back in his chair, hand on his crotch as he continues to watch them go at it. He puts some pressure into his palm and brushes down towards his knees, causing himself to vocally shudder. ‘This is strangely wonderful’. He’s watching the climaxes unfurl between the two, their cries making him grip himself now and he sees Gojo hold her down in place above him, pushing into her. He’s seen so much in his lifetime and wonders how he never discovered this before. ‘I wonder if my brothers knew?’ The show before him has come to end but he doesn’t release the technique so he can take in their bareness as he gathered that helped him feel good too. He’s reaching into his pants now, fondling himself in different ways, experimenting with what feels best. His hands are pretty big but now his grip has widened more than usual as he holds himself snuggly. He’s not even aware of his own moans as he mirrors the same motions along his shaft that would be experienced if he were with one of those girls. His body tenses up, causing the rest of him to become erect as well while he quickens his moving hold. There’s a small amount of liquid oozing out of the head. He runs his fingers along the tip, giving it a fluent ribbed like texture and his toes curl for a second. “Uhh..ah”. ‘Feels really fucking good.’

He’s back to focusing on their interactions while stroking himself. Gojo is dressing her as she seems to be losing her usual collected state. He doesn’t find her as exciting in this situation covered but the little dress is still pretty revealing, appetizing in a way. He bits his bottom lip. He’s about to remove himself from his pants as they seem to have shrunk around his thighs and hips but then the door to his office swings open.

“Cho-so I need you to sign off on the-…” Naoya’s voice is lost as his eyes meet Choso’s technique. His earlier good mood is decimated as he’s watching a naked Gojo embracing a barely dressed Elska. He’s immediately enraged at the fact that they’re holding each other and the implications of how their dress…or lack thereof… insinuates a situation of abhorrence for Naoya. “What does that blue-haired dick think he is doing?” He then sees Choso’s flushed face paired with open pants and still clothed erection.

“What the FUCK is going on in here!?” Naoya’s deep voice booms through the room, hollowing Choso as he jumps to stand up. He braces himself as Naoya beelines for him, or so he thought. Naoya completely passes him though, in an attempt to jump through what he thinks is a portal, completely heated at the sight of Gojo swaying his woman in his arms.

“Naoya NO! YOU CAN’T!” Choso grabs onto Naoya’s shoulder and uses his cursed energy to rip the large man away as fast as he could. Naoya flies backwards to the other side of the room but Choso knows it’s too late when he sees the ripple effect cascade outwards from where he assumes Naoya’s hand penetrated its surface. He can see Gojo looking around the room in a completely defensive state, hoping that he’s still left ignorant as to what just happened. He releases the window quickly after that.

“That technique is only untraceable as long as what is observed remains undisturbed!” Choso catches himself actually raising his voice for the second time ever, which seems to throw Naoya by surprise too. “You could’ve ruined everything!” He’s trying to calm himself, “We lose a major advantage if they find out I can do this Naoya…”

“I thought I made myself pretty clear you little perv, you’re not to touch yourself to her…what the fuck!?” Naoya is standing himself up, brushing the dirt from his arms and cracking his neck. He’s irritated by this ‘HIM TOO NOW?’ He doesn’t understand that Choso is simply inquisitive about the act and isn’t actually wanting to try and take Elska, he’s just paranoid after it seems everyone else does.

“You actually said for me to not touch myself to the thoughts of you and her.” Choso corrects Naoya in a matter-of-fact manner, still collecting himself from the infusion of his groin and the seriousness of what almost happened. “Why didn’t you just call or even knock?”

“Choso…she is spoken for...BY ME!” His eyes trail down to Choso’s pants. “Do you understand why this is wrong? If I see this again, I’ll tug it so hard it falls off…and I DID!” He points to Choso’s phone that’s lit up and displaying 4 missed calls. Naoya’s voice is still raised as he has yet to calm down himself. He felt like if he didn’t get to her right in that minute, or at least soon, he’d lose her forever. It was clear to him, her affections for Gojo and that made him insecure about his own for her. He never planned on caring for whoever his wife would end up being, marriage has always been about beneficial arrangements within the clans. He didn’t even care much for the idea when she was mentioned to him initially, years ago, ‘Just so long as she can produce strong heirs.’ Now however, he found the time and distance between them to be torturous, he knows she feels something for him too but isn’t able to sum up the totality of exactly how much that is. He knows he’s lucky to have such emotions for his intended and now feels the need to share them.

The room remains soundless for a minute until Naoya sighs and looks to Choso. “Look, I’ll keep this our little secret if you do that for me so I can see her tomorrow...” He’s still pretty pissed off about everything he just saw…literally everything…but when he looks to Choso who is undoubtedly embarrassed, he can’t help but feel bad for the guy. ‘He’s new to that stuff.’ Naoya thinks of how she looked in that tiny little slip and shudders pleasurably before turning his attention back to his pitiful friend. Choso probably would have remained uncorrupted had Naoya only done his job that day when he caught them. He realizes this. “Just don’t do that to her ever again. You need to find someone else to peep on, Tom.”

Choso doesn’t understand the reference but nods his head in agreeance while looking down to the right…still too embarrassed to meet eyes with Naoya while on that subject.

Naoya sighs again and walks closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Look, it’s alright, all men have been through something similar at one point or another.” He tries to add encouragement to his voice because other than this, he’s grown really fond of him as they’ve grown closer. “It’s almost like a rite of passage.” He trudges up a smile, “You’re just a really, really late bloomer buddy.” He pats Choso’s shoulder and then turns to leave the room. He seems in a hurry all of the sudden. “I fucking mean it though, leave her OUT of it. I’ll know too if you don’t!” He smiles and pulls the door shut behind him, never even addressing properly which papers he needed signed. A faint, “I’ll be back in the morning” is heard as his footsteps fade.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Toji was confidently strolling the halls with a large paper bag in hand. ‘He won’t be able to resist this special edition.’ He woke up on the floor of his demolished apartment without wings luckily. He’s still over joyed about his new form, loving the power surging through him although he hasn’t summoned any cursed energy since the scuffle between him and Gojo. “Tch…Gojo…” he grumbles, “I am surely the better option now, she just needs the truth.”

He arrives to Nanami’s office but finds that it’s empty. ‘Maybe I should have called. He better not be on a mission.’ He stands in front of the doorway speculating where the shaman could have been at this time of day. He walks further down into the hall aimlessly, really looking for anyone who would know of his whereabouts, Megumi even if he was lucky, until he begins to hear voices. He nears them, recognizing them as the distance disappears. “God damnit…” He says as he leans into the doorway to find Nanami, Gojo and Elska sitting around a conference table.

He first looks to Elska who looks in much better condition than the night before. As he scans over her white tanktop and skin, he’s thankful initially to see that he didn’t leave her with any bruises but then gathers that meant she’s likely fed since. Gojo stands up immediately upon seeing Toji, slightly confused as to why he wasn’t able to sense him like before.

Nanami sighs, “I swear if you two break anything, I’ll make sure it’s deducted from your pay Satoru…”

Toji immediately punches a hole through the door, “HAA you heard him!”.

“TOJI what the hell?” Nanami is standing now too, his hands having slammed down on the table.

“Toji stop it!” Elska is still sitting but her expression is stern.

Toji throws his head up, “I’m sorry Nanami…I couldn’t help myself.” He sighs, “I won’t do it again…”

Elska looks satisfied by this but the other two men were shocked by how easily he listened to her. Toji shuffles to the side of the table closest to him and hands the bag to Nanami. “This is for helping me with my room.” Ending with a mischievous wink.

“The fucks he talking about Nanami?” Gojo turned his entire head in a dramatic way to narrowly eye his blonde friend. He’s can’t believe Toji would have the balls to show his face again so soon after what happened. ‘And now there’s talk of a room?’ He turns to Elska now on his left, checking to see if she’s uncomfortable by his showing up but she isn’t. Her posture has actually straightened and her eyes have yet to leave him since he entered, which he doesn’t like.

“I never said yes, Toji just doesn’t liste-…”

“Fuck that, I’m moving in y’all. My place is toast now and I have no other choice.” Toji throws his hands up in comical defeat as he prepares to lay the gravy on them. “My son is here and so is my ma-…Elska…who is still in danger by the way.” He looks to Gojo now, both of their eyes narrow simultaneously as the scowls also form. Satoru rolls his shoulders back and intensifies his presence.

“What happened at your place, Toji?” Elska’s voice in brimming with concern as she now finally stands, joining the others in the room. She lands her right hand on Satoru’s arm to display that she’s still very aware of his hesitation but is also asking him to hold off for a moment.

“Doll, I’m so glad you asked…” A wide grin takes over Toji’s expression as his excitement builds. He wanted to show her rather than tell her but this is still going to be good. “It turns out that you gave me wingsSHAHHHHH” The cry that leaves him is thunderous and wild.

Toji hunches over and grabs at his shoulders, “Aww FUCK not right now!” He’s struggling to the floor as he finally catches himself before falling over, being on his hands and knees now. Elska tries to run over to him but Satoru grabs her arm and pulls her back forcefully, not knowing what to expect. Toji’s muscles are dancing along his back as his skin begins to stretch from large bone protrusions. “Why does it hurt so bad!?” After what seems like forever, they finally rip through and the massive deep grey wings take shape around him. His tattered shirt falls forward, holding on by the waist. His wings were much thicker than Elska’s and used more body area where they conjoined from the spine outward. No one says anything at first, they just stand there as the gusts wave through them.

“They’re…beautiful.” Elska gasps and reaches out for one of the stray feathers that was blown across the table as he’s tearing off the rest of his shirt. “They’re so big! Wow Toji!” She can’t help but feel excited at his time, finally seeing what others saw when they looked at her. His stature was large as it is but with the added mass of feathers, he almost seemed imperial…like some kind of winged royalty. Their eyes meet for a moment but the gaze between them seemed timeless. Her eyes begin to glow, fangs slowly forming. She mindlessly tries to walk towards him a second time, with him never leaving her sight. Satoru snatches at her again and yanks her backward which throws her back into reality.

“Have you forgotten what he’s done to us? To YOU?” Satoru’s words are harsh, stinging as she recollects exactly what he’s referring to. ‘Why am I like this… He’s right.’ “I’m sorry.” Is all she manages in response.

“No. I don’t think so Gojo…you’ve got this all twisted.” Toji’s voice is lowered, he seems like he may even growl. He steps a little closer, wings twitching randomly as he does. “Elska… he kidnapped you from your world, held you prisoner, abused you…” He sees Nanami’s eyes widen as he tears off the cap of the bottle and just chugs from it. “And then he had your memories erased.”

Satoru hasn’t moved but his grip on her arm has become unbearable as she tries to pull it away from him. He releases her instantly not being conscious of his actions. “My love…please, don’t listen to him…” His eyes remain on Toji, evolving into a menacing state. Satoru is actually the one to growl, “It’s not that simple.”

“Great! Now that’s out in the open…” Nanami is only now putting down the bottle, already showing signs of intoxication. Everyone turns to him to address the random interruption as he pulls the bottle out of the paper bag and slides it to Elska. “I can’t fucking believe you two right now…she deserves the next go.”

Elska receives the bottle, catching it with both hands along its path. The atmosphere is so incredibly tense and weird as she tries to take in Toji’s words. “That would explain a lot actually…” Hands shaking, she swigs the bottle herself, coughing slightly afterwards to her first try of Jameson. It probably looks as if she didn’t enjoy the taste but she repeats the same action twice more, drinking more in each time. She’s sure that information was shocking but can’t bring herself to negatively emotionally react. ‘It’s almost not surprising though and that would explain that flavor.’ “Jesus you guys…what the FUCK?” She rarely swears but felt this was as good a time as any…still kind of dazed as she pieces things together from her own perspective.

Satoru is still frozen solid as he fails to understand her reaction once again. He’s finding that even after all of this time, she’s still so unpredictable. ‘How did she just take that kind of information in stride?’ She doesn’t seem to discredit it, in fact she seems to be coming to terms with it. ‘Is this it, is she going to leave me?’ He’s staring off in space, retreating into his mind, when he feels her nudge him with the bottle. He looks down to her as she looks straight ahead, unwilling to meet his eyes at the time. He slowly takes the bottle in disbelief and quickly guzzles some like his life depends on it. ‘Is she just having a delayed reaction? This is fucking creepy.’

Toji is waiting for shit to hit the fan too. As he listens to Gojo chasing a buzz, his eyes meet Elska’s and he’s not sure what she’s feeling, she’s not giving anything away. He was expecting her to completely freak out and maybe even attack Gojo herself, hoping so anyways. She looks up to him again for a moment and he can sense her gears turning. “Are you alright, doll?”

Gojo slams down the bottle, surprisingly not shattering it. “Stop with the fucking pet names before I rip your fucking mouth off.”

“I will be once Sati hands you the bottle.” She giggles a little as the sudden introduction of alcohol begins to affect her as well. “Sati, don’t be such a dick…I mean, seriously…like you’ve room to talk right now.”

He thinks to be offended for a second but can’t help but still remain on edge by her demeanor. She hardly speaks to him that way and he’s completely unsettled by her composure. ‘She’s still calling me Sati…’ He shrinks down as the pressure seems too great, he’s wondering if he would’ve preferred her to lose her shit. She finally looks back at him and she even smiles. ‘Why?’

“Elska…” his voice is so unsure of itself as her name leaves his lips.

“Pass Toji the bottle.” She sees Satoru’s reluctance as he’s picking up on the symbology of the situation. “You’ve both said your piece now stop being a child and just do it.” She looks to Toji now who is extending out a hand, smugly ready to accept the forced gesture. “Toji, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is…” To this he huffs and removes the arrogance from his expression.

Nanami stands up, laughing, “Grown men…” and shakes his head as he announces he’ll be right back. Everyone watches him leave until Satoru finally slides the bottle across from him, towards Toji. “Take it, cunt.”

“SATI.”

Toji and Gojo’s eyes are locked, even while Toji drinks. After the first sip he lets out, “HAHH…yea, this definitely was needed today.” Before tilting it upwards for more. His wings flutter as he takes in the beverage, causing Elska and Gojo’s attention to remain on him.

“I need that again before I say my bit…” Elska now waves to the bottle in Toji’s hand which he leans over slowly to hand it to her, unnerved by what exactly it’ll consist of.

She guzzles some this time and Satoru twitches in response, probably wanting her to slow down considering she was such a lightweight. When she sets it down, it’s with purpose. “Listen you two…” She sighs deeply, “I am not oblivious, I was simply missing pieces of the puzzle. Sati, my dream last night…I believe it was a memory of the first time I gave myself to you.” She notices Toji shift his stance, being out of the loop. “You’ve always had this taste about you, I’ve sensed that side of you this entire time. The nightmares, I’m accepting now that they may potentially all be memories…which means I know far more than you think I do.” Both men remain silent, unsure of where this is heading. Satoru’s face looks like he’s in pain, genuine agony as she progresses, turning towards him, “You’ve done some really horrible things my dear, to me and others as well… I can’t argue that.” She places her left hand into his cheek as he buries his face into it reflexively. “And as sick as it is, I almost understand. If I remember correctly then I think I’ve said this before although it’s even more so true now.” His eyes anxiously meet hers, “You were raised to believe that love was not in your nature but Sati, you are no monster.” He inhales sharply to this, almost as if he’d been holding his breath the entire day. His eyes close as his face reddens from emotion, “You didn’t know how to express your feelings properly then but you do now.” He brings his hands up to her one on his face and gently holds it as a single tear rolls down his other cheek. “If you never took me, I wouldn’t be here with everyone from this world today…I’m happy here.”

He responds in a whisper that leaves a timid smile as he recalls that wonderful night, and soaks up her current words, “This must be love.” To which she half laughs, half cries as her own tears are beginning to form as well. “Elska…” He decides to finally embrace her, “My Elska…”

Nanami enters the room again, “I knew I had another one somewhere! With the content being spewed, I just knew that one wouldn’t be enough.” He sets the second bottle down and opens it, uncaring that the first is unfinished. “I care about all of you, yes even you Toji…but this is the most dysfunctional shit I’ve ever heard of in my life.” He laughs wearily as he swigs from the new bottle.

Toji turns the chair in front of him around leaving the support in front of him as he sits at the table, feeling defeated. ‘How in the fuck did that just go down like that. All of that work, lying, sneaking around, scheming…and for what? She still loves him anyway?!’ He reaches for the first bottle and gulps a decent amount down. “What the fuck man…”

She turns to Toji now, placing her hand on top of the one teetering the bottle on the table. “You Toji, you’re not innocent either…you need to stop trying to manipulate us.” He scoffs to this, removing his hand and the bottle from under hers to drink again. “Toji…” The hurt is evident in her tone.

“Look doll, since I’m taking this harder than you are let me just have a minute.” He softens his voice to her, “This isn’t what I expected to be honest.” He watches her drink from the second bottle that Nanami handed to her. A smile forming on her face as she wipes away the liquid that spilled from her lips. She’s wearing black sweatpants too but the snug little white tank top, now has little dribbled murky spots from the spillage. He’s feels it minutely but his wings flutter again while he observes her.

“Toji, you’re still very special to me and you should understand that thoroughly.” She sees him darting eyes over to Satoru after she spoke to which a grin formed indicating that Satoru probably didn’t like that. “We are bonded now; our relationship is also very unique.” She now sits down, feeling tipsy and warm. “I can’t believe it’s finally out there.” Her relief is clear as she leans back and stretches. “It really all makes so much more sense now.” Her composed demeanor instantaneously relaxes everyone in the room, it becoming evident that her ability to be understanding and empathetic had been greatly underestimated.

Nanami leans over where he sits, “Shame on these men, Elska. Imagine if you had a quiet guy like myself.” He laughs to his own words as he waits for the rebuttal.

“Not uhh Nanamin you’re a scoundrel too! I caught you staring at her ‘little lady’ last night.” Satoru laughs loudly as he knows he’s just struck a nerve. “You’re face right now!” He’s lost in snickers as his tension fades.

Toji and Elska stiffen to these words. Toji angrily snaps his head to Nanami not understanding why that would even transpire, “WHAT?” He stands and his wings begin to flail.

“Toji you have to calm down! I’m sure it’s a joke!” She glares at Satoru for stirring things up again, “Why would you say that?” She shoves his shoulder and hoping that small bit odd normalcy they were experiencing wasn’t just ruined.

“I’m kidding, we all know our Nanamin wouldn’t do such a thing!” He turns to his now statuesque friend with an evil grin, hinting that he’ll blow the shit out of proportion if he needs to, he has the power to throw him under the bus. Nanami loosens his tie while he awkwardly chuckles and finally begins relaxing again, fully comprehending what Satoru’s eyes were saying.

“Alright boys…I’m in desperate need of a shower” She stumbles a bit once standing and remembers that she’s still technically wearing both men, “Ok maybe a bath then.” All four chuckle as she straightens herself and makes her way to the door. I’ll come back when I’m done if you’re still gathered here.” And she waves as the room falls quiet to her absence.

Satoru and Toji both take a swig at the same time which causes Nanami to laugh. “You know, you two aren’t so different from each other if you really think about it.” This statement wasn’t met well though and they refused to look at each other.

“Difference is, this fuck always wins.” Toji rolls his eyes as he sits again, placing an elbow down on the table to rest his head in hand. He’s facing Nanami, allowing his hand to block his view of Gojo.

“I really do I guess… I still don’t feel like it though.” He sighs as the outcome is still blowing his mind. His little Elska is really something else. He’s twirling the ends of his hair as he thinks about how much time he spent in fear of this exact predicament. He was so sure she would be mortified…and rightfully so. “You still get to feed from her though so it can’t be called a true victory…fucker.”

“Are you seriously telling me that even after all of this, you two are STILL making it about yourselves?” Nanami completely removes his glasses now as he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Neither of you really gave her a choice to begin with so why is it so important that she chooses now? What, like you value that or something suddenly?” His tone is still friendly but he’s getting agitated at how they could fail to get along or even understand.

“What are we supposed to do, fucking share her?” Toji spits instantly, empty chuckles leaving his mouth as his nerves are being worked again.

Gojo shifts his weight in his chair and crosses his legs.

Nanami brings his hands together in an intense moment of deliberation. “I mean, yea…maybe.”

Toji postures himself upright immediately, “She’s not a fucking toy.” He looks to Gojo out of curiosity as the man chugs some more from the second bottle, surprised to not hear more protests from him as well. He looks like he’s thinking now too.

“If it weren’t for Naoya then I wouldn’t even be considering this.” Gojo is smiling wide, feeling a little drunk now. “I wonder how he’s doing...”

“What do you mean by that?” Toji is quick to want to understand the implications of that sentence. One of his eyebrows are raised as he gives Gojo his full attention.

“Well… when I was sealed, Naoya brought her to me. He was putting her…in a tough position and one thing led to another. It was a really bizarre occurrence but long story short, that was almost a threesome.” He pauses a moment as if he’s reflecting, “Had I been able to move? It would’ve definitely been a threesome.”

“He fucked Elska?” Toji’s voice is matched with the same surprise as his expression. Naoya has been officially underestimated as well.

“Right in front of me.” He takes another drink as he greedily relishes in the memory. His mannerisms were so casual that it didn’t seem to sit right with the others listening. “She was partially in my lap for the majority of it, I just couldn’t move.”

“What? Satoru, are you serious? And he’s still alive?!” Nanami is flabbergasted by the calmness as the words left his possessive friend’s mouth. ‘I did not need to know all of this.’

“Well…” He laughs to himself as he makes eye contact, shifting between the two, “Of course initially I was ready to disembowel the fucker but as it progressed, I just realized that I was into it!” He shrugs his shoulders as he relives the situation some more, a deep sigh existing his lips.

“I’m going to kill that little shit…” Toji drinks again, “He wants to make her a fucking Zenin, Gojo, surely you know this. What do you think the boy is cute or something?”

“Of course I’m aware but I’m not going to let that happen. Also, I’m not attracted to Naoya…I just like how he makes her feel.” He shivers now to his own words. “Woah, that sounded weird to actually say.”

Nanami is genuinely curious about all of this now. He removes his jacket and rolls up his sleeves to reduce his alcohol sweats. He never would’ve imagined Satoru being open to this considering he’s one of the few people that was familiar with the devil inside of him and how Elska existence made him behave. He would always keep an eye on her from afar just in case Gojo ever relapsed into old, terrible habits. He never has but upon seeing how incoherent and roughed up she was last night, he did fear for a second there. “Could you see the same possibilities with Toji?”

Gojo looks over Toji fully, from wing to toe. He’s acting like he’s sizing him up for the first time all over again. He wants to say no but in his current state of mind he can’t help but admit that he’s a little interested. He could argue that it wouldn’t be right due to Toji’s feelings for her, understanding that it could be threatening…but he knows Naoya falls under this exact category as well. “It wouldn’t work, Toji would have to cut off his own dick.”

“What?” Toji and Nanami question at the same time. They look baffled at what may be assumed as an outlandish ultimatum.

“Don’t you remember Toji, that day… the day you fucking tricked me into a misery? You said you would rather chop off your own dick than ever lay eyes on my mine.” He now hoots at how seriously they took him a few seconds ago as he was really just being a shit. He’s surprised when Toji actually cackles to his joke, unable to fight off that stupid infectious laugh. Nanami’s humor doesn’t seem to mesh well with mention of a dick lost however.

“Would you be able to stay in your fucking lane if I said yes?” Gojo is all seriousness now as he questions Toji, implying that he is really thinking about it.

“I don’t know exactly how I would do that but are you really considering this? What if she doesn’t even want to?” Toji’s failing to hide his excitement. Sure, he didn’t want to share if he could help it but he also recalls a time where he wasn’t so against the idea. “Holy shit, I have an experience like that with Zenin too now that you mention it.” Gojo and Nanami are both all ears, Gojo’s face being a little more serious as this will be news to him. “Well…uhh…it was after I fed her for the first time…” His voice trailed off wondering if he should’ve kept his mouth shut but Gojo doesn’t look like he’s going to swing, yet. “We didn’t know Naoya was there but it turns out he came for his men, who Elska fantastically handled. There was blood everywhere and the sheer amount of gore…so fucking impressive.” He realizes he’s getting off track as Nanami ducks his head back in confusion. “She released her pheromones and the little shit lunged out of nowhere not having been affected before.” To this the three of them laugh as they can all recall their first time exposed to the scent. Their bellows chimed in unison as the cordial air surrounds them. “He’d never met her before and couldn’t understand why he wanted her to keep biting him. He squirmed so bad at first. She stole a chunk of his nuts that day I swear.” He laughing but then lets out a sigh, “But I didn’t want to hurt her and I wasn’t in the right mind to fight him…so I watched until I knew I was losing control…then I left. He wasn’t going get too far, she was taking advantage of his not knowing and got away shortly afterwards.”

Gojo seems amazed by that last part. ‘I didn’t want to hurt her…I left.’ He turns to Toji sincerely, “You really fought the urges?” Feeling slightly less of man when he considers how he never could…there was no way he could resist her like that. ‘So Naoya was lying about their encounter...’ he was beginning to believe it after he saw how Elska was affected by him, being grateful for some clarity.

“I’m a big guy Gojo, I really didn’t want to hurt her.” Gojo perks up slightly to this inference. Toji thinks he even liked the sound of it. “If I’d gotten ahold of her again, I’m not saying that would’ve gone well though.”

Nanami is just watching everything unfold as he continues to drink. ‘To think after all of this time it finally comes out and it’s so anticlimactic. They’re holding a conversation now…and the subject matter at that…wow.’ “So Satoru, what do you say? Are you willing to give it a shot?”

“You’re not touching her with your wings out so you’ll need to figure that out first.” He’s been nothing but astonished today, “If she can accept me the way that I am, I feel I have to try to accept you I guess…” He folds his arms in a playful pout while looking to Toji out of the corners of his eyes. “No promises that this is a happy ending though.” He tries to hold his face but the alcohol mixed with his immaturity pulls out laughter instead.

“We’re really getting through the issues today. I never would have thought it’d be this easy.” Nanami holds up his bottle as to toast before passing it to Toji.

“I’m…I’m not even sure what to say but I know what to do!” Toji holds up the bottle to repeat Nanami’s action and smiles to him. He feels the blunt clinking of thick glass as Gojo has raised the bottle in his hand to meet Toji’s. He’s so surprised that he isn’t even able to hide it from his face.

“This should be interesting.” A wicked sneer takes over Gojo’s expression as the three men have finally come to an agreement.

Next Chapter (17) >>

Chapter List

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calcium-rods · 4 years

Text

Assorted HC Headcanons

- Grian likes shiny things. He also has a large mount of outfits and jewelry for special occasions. - Scar has a habit of letting his mind wander. If he sees a shadow in the distance, he will make up stories about why it’s there and who it can be. - Bdubs painted his elytra to look like a town at one point, and most other hermits don’t use the default look, either. Most make them work with their outfit or base. - One example of this is Iskall. He coated his in dripping Iskallium, which slowly hardened and gave the wings (resembling a dragonfly’s) a dripping look. - Grumbot has a more portable form. All you need to do is take several chips from the main one and insert them in his head. This one also has a screen and the ability to play some games. - Cub likes to bake. He’ll usually make cakes for hermits’ birthdays, and they definitely include no vex magic. None at all. - Xisuma’s elytra are built into his suit. They change depending on the appearance he takes on. The strider variant of his suit also gives him free fire resistance, and the antennae perk up when he is happy. - Keralis stops using nicknames if he is sad/annoyed/very serious about a topic. - Tango’s eyes slightly change color. The happier he is, the more saturated they get, a warm tint appearing as well. When he’s not feeling well, they become a cooler shade of red. - Iskall has several covers for his eye. He changes them out depending on what he needs, blue is good for Big Brain Moments, green for general use, red for Do Not Disturb, and so on. - Impulse has twenty of the same shirt, the color being only slightly different on all of them. - Cleo and Cub dislike each other, but they can still work on the Hermiton Herald without wanting to kill each other. - Cleo can speak to most zombies. She cannot drown or die of dehydration-- she becomes a drowned or husk. - The eyes in vex masks glow. Other glowing eyed hermits are Tango, Hels, Doc, and Iskall. - Grian’s eyes are pitch black if he’s focused on something. If you look closely, they have the texture of an end portal. - Scar has a habit of befriending other hermits’ cats. - Wels somehow has iron armor just as strong as diamond. When not in armor, he wears hoodies that resemble it. - Doc is more resistant to explosions than most other hermits. He also makes clicking noises when happy. - Cleo sunburns very easily when not in husk form. She likes the shade.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft headcanons #grian #goodtimeswithscar #iskall #grumbot #cubfan135 #xisuma #keralis #tangotek #impulsesv #zombiecleo #docm77 #welsknight #headcanons #long post #calclore.txt

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miioouu · 4 years

Note

Demon! Bakugou x Human Reader? 👀

Wooooo I left this for 666 followers because, well I want to! Sorry if you didn't want smut, you can send me another request when I open my requests! Thank you for requesting! ❤️💜❤️ And thank you so so much for 666 followers you guys🥺🥺

Warning: smut, oral sex, fingering, anal, somnophilia.... Also very long post sry 😔

People looked at you like you were crazy. Who in their right mind would buy such house? Old and dark, window screaming in breezy nights, wood cracking for no reason. People claimed it to be haunted, advising you to run away, never step a foot inside the house. But who were they to tell you what to do? You didn't see an unholy house in front of you, nor a roof for demons or ghosts or whatever mythical creature they believed in. No you saw a beautiful house, one that has potential to turn into the best looking home in the neighborhood. And at the price it was offered, you hit the jackpot. Big and dark, you're soon to transform it.

Turning the key as you stepped in, dust filling your lungs, coughing and shaking your hand to get rid of it. You had a lot to work on, and first you had to get it all cleaned up before starting any renovation. Everywhere you looked there were pictures reminding you of old witchcraft. Devil horns, crosses, and crystals. But what stood up was a particular painting, young, and powerful, eyes seeming to follow your every movement, and if you looked straight into them, your chest starts to heave, breathing becomes hard, sweat running down your face as your hands shake while you're taking the frames of the walls. You didn't need a dead man to decorate your house.

Days passed and you're still cleaning up that damned house. Nights spent there seemed colder, making you shiver even under the layers upon layers of covers. Crickets seem louder here and the air seems to flow with more force. Though you blamed it on the poorly insulated walls. Unaware of the form roaming around your house. Well more like his house. Angry eyes boring into your soul as you tried to move his favorite coffee table, glacy fingers trying to stop you from throwing away expensive furniture. You were getting on every single one of his nerves. How dare you come to his house, acting like it's your own, destroying fortune poured into the decoration? Who's that insane woman trying to own his property?

He was having more than enough with you, his only wish to dig his nails into your skin, drawing blood out of you. His only wish to see the life drained out of you, begging him to stop. And his desire only getting worse when it looks like you weren't getting his warnings. How could you ignore such things? Breaking of your new lamp, moving candles and cold, freezing air hitting your skin leaving trails of goosebumps in its awakening. How could you be so dense?

You had toured the whole house, happy and joyful. Sure some things were a bit weird, but that's just your mind playing tricks on you, right? Well you were as sure as you moved to the basement. What you expected was dead rats, cockroaches, spider webs, anything really, but this. Left over wax sealed on the walls and floors, books covering up the whole wood floor , upside-down crosses hanging from the walls and most importantly, a huge pentagram burned into the floor. Perfect circle, and pointy ends of the star. The sight alone making you shiver as cold sweat ran down your body. Breathing heavy as you walked in the room. Each step felt heavy. Each step having you feel colder. Each step having your conscious screaming at you, begging for you to turn back, run away from the house, making your legs feel weak and wobbly as you get closer and closer to the cursed symbole.

Finally, you had discovered him, maybe that would make you leave, maybe you'll finally understand. You don't belong here Y/n. Smirk carved on his face as he watched you approaching the portal to the underworld. The portal to wherever he came from. You should be running away, you should be screaming, repeating prayers after prayers, asking God for help and forgiveness for every sin you had committed in the past. But you didn't, which made his blood boil in anger. No, instead you laughed, shaking your head. Determined to get the place cleaned you did the one thing that kept him away from you, you touched the pentagram. Thus allowing him to finally do what he was so itching to do before, he can finally touch you.

He wanted to kill you, sure, but why not have some fun with you before? Giving up on the idea of making the basement crystal clear, for the circle never faded away and the books all too precious to throw in the bin, you locked up the basement and continued with your life upstairs. You wanted to go back to a normal, routine-like life, but there's something stopping you from that. It's like icy fingers seemed to run up and down your legs every night, hot breath fanning over your face as you tried to shut your eyes close and fall into slumber. It's like eyes followed your every move, burning and looking straight into your soul. And the worse is the hazzy, dizzy feeling you get every time you hoppinto the shower, the smell of burnt caramel, filling your nose, making you ache from the inside as heat flows through your body and straight to your core. Making your eyes roll back as waves of pleasure cam crashing upon you. What was happening? You had absolutely no idea. Though you didn't give up on your dream house, never!

But everything became too much one night. Sleeping tight in your bed, falling into the land of imagination, it's been a while since you had an erotic dream. Red eyes staring back at you, perfectly sharp jawline filling your view, though what was special in this dream was the devil-like horns decorating your dreamy man's head. Standing tall and shiny, dark red contrasting excellently against his sandg blond hair. Skin pale and smooth, patches of red, burnt-like skin patching over his body. Though all these details meant nothing to you. No, it was the cold finger brushing against your legs, parting them as you're fully exposed to his fiery eyes. What a weird dream, right? Oh Y/n, only if you knew.

It's been a while since he had the ability to play with a human body, let alone one so beautiful. One so perfect, aching and arching for him. Seeing you sleeping, with nothing but an oversized shirt, has his mind going wild. He was but a mere demon, he can't contain himself, not when his desire to just wreck you over and over again kept flowing in his blood. Dragging his pointy fingers up and down your legs, making you shiver as he got closer to your heat. Face leaning in hot breath fanning on your lace covered crotch. Taking a look at your face, mouth agape, brows furrowed in pleasure, he knew he had this effect on mortals, but you, you were special.

It's just a dream Y/n! A dream seeming so realistic, it's like someone, or more like him, was really breathing in your scent, face buried between your legs, tongue licking and sucking your soaked panties. It felt so real. All you wanted to do was run your fingers through his hair, and push closer, beg him to just rip your underwear apart and fuck you. It was so real, so good, how can a dream feel like that.

Oh dear Y/n, it's not a dream, no, there really was a man, well no, a demon devouring you, playing tricks on your mind making you think that it's only a hyper realistic dream. "Oh- oh God....." Shaky moan coming out of you, as you pushed your hips forward, begging the demon to just take you already. He was having a lot of fun, roaming in your dreams, making you scream, got him going crazy. Finally listening to your needs, he moved away, earning him a whine as you hand subconsciously traveled down your body, aiming for your lower lips. He was fast though, pulling your panties down and throwing them somewhere in the room, finally giving in and pressing his lips to your skin, sharp teeth nibbling at your inner thighs, covering them in marks. And slowly making his way up, getting so close to the place you need him the most. Trembling as his wet muscle was finally dragging in between your lips, licking and sucking, tongue languidly circling your clit as his eyes looked up, eyebrows knit in pleasure, mouth agape. Slipping down to delve between your slick folds, his hot muscle pressing against your walls, while his nose ever so often brushes against your clit, hot breath fanning over it.

What a dream you were having. Vermillion eyes looking up to you, sharp jawline in your sight, though that meant nothing to you, no what you were drooling over was his horns, rigid and hard, texture making you feel hot, wanting to run your tongue up and down, wrap your hands around them, and pulling him close. And so you did that in real life, hand unconsciously found his horn, gigantic as you held onto it, twisting your hand around it, making the demon growl, sending vibrations right to your core, seeing your back arch off the bed.

Wanting to feel you more, he has ripped your night shirt, with such force it had your breast bouncing. Hand quickly shooting up to have a hold on them. Burning fingers tugging and pulling your nipples away from you, letting go to see your soft skin jiggle. Oh he was having so much fun. Feeling you wriggle underneath him, sign that you were getting close, he started sucking harder, face waving left and right, pushing himself so incredibly close to you. He had to hold your hips to stop you from bucking away from his touch, and just as you were about to cum, he pulled away. Leaving you panting and shaking, whine leaving your lips.

He could fuck you right now, sure. But he wanted to teach you a lesson. Maybe he'll tease you a bit more. Gently turning you, so you're laying on your tummy, grabbing your hips and hoisting your ass in the air. Soft skin, smooth waiting to be spanked. Large palm coming harshly on it, watching it jiggle and starting to redden. Though he wanted more, spitting in your asshole, fingers dipping into your cunt to gather your juice with them, diving his digit inside your tight hole. Feeling your walls flutter around the single finger, head burying deeper into the pillows. Adding another one, stretching you so good as your fingers keep sucking him in, pumping inside of you, earning whine after whine, beg after beg, but that's not what he wanted to hear, no he wanted his name.

Pulling away again before you can drown yourself in pleasure. He saw your body fall, hitting the mattress as he gave himself a few pumps, watching your holes clenching around nothing. Finally having enough with the teasing, he pushed himself in, loving the way your hips immediately began to thrust back at him, thanking his demon powers for not making him cum at the spot. Taking a fist full of your hair, and pulling back, creating the perfect curve of your body. Leaning down, long tongue swiping against your ear shell, for the first time you hear his voice. Deep, and husky, filled with evilness and desire. "If you want me to keep going human, you have to beg for me." Even in your sleeping state, your body responded perfectly to him. Having no idea where that name came from, mind creating it on its own. "Please, please Bakugou, fuck me, break me. I want to feel you so deep inside of me... Oh Bakugou, I'm only at your mercy!" It's all it took him to finally let loose. Pulling away almost completly, only to dig in even deeper, setting a rough, fast pace. Seeing your body rock with every movement of his hips, voice getting increasingly louder, wanton moans filling the room, and probably the whole neighborhood.

And you still think it's a dream? How could you? But all of it felt so magical, so good, too good to be true. Walls clenching around him, hips fast to meet his, as your hands began to tear the soft sheets underneath you. Pulling back at your hair, so you back was pressed on his chest. This new position making him hit the perfect spot inside you, over and over. At this point all that came out of your mouth was his name, repeating it like a prayer. Giving you another few thrusts, setting your body in fire as you finally, for the first time tonight, released, clamping hard around him as his name came out in shaky breaths. Groaning low as he feels you around him, the fluttering of you cunt making his eyes roll back as he presses deep inside you, hot ropes of cum fill you up, painting you walls white.

Pulling out with a hiss, letting your body hit the mattress as he sees his cum dripping out of you, body still shaking from the intense orgasm you had.... If he gets to fuck you like that every night, he really doesn't mind if you keep moving his furniture.

Waking up in the morning, body aching and feeling hot, you looked at yourself, naked and sticky, warm liquid spilling out of you and into the mattress, sheets torn apart and clothes littering the floor. Though what shook you the most was the pentagram burned on your inner thighs, making your whole body shiver, head dizzy as you touch it.... Oh y/n, maybe you should listen to people more often for you are now in big trouble…

#bnha imagines #bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #demon au #Smut #Request

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skylar102 · 4 years

Note

Soulmate prompt: Everyone has heterochromia, one eye is your natural color, the other is your soulmate’s natural color. Once you meet all eyes return to natural color. How is the life of a Shadowhunter with one hazel eye and one golden eye? ~

Well I tell you this took weeks to figure out, I really mean I had no idea how I wanted them to meet so I came up with this canon divergence. I hope you enjoy! ^_^

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

When you are born, you have two separate eye colors. One that is yours and one that is of your soulmate. Your eyes will stay that way until you meet your soulmate and your eyes return to their natural color. You don’t know what eye is your true color which makes the moment you meet your soulmate even more exciting.

Alec stares at his reflection in his bathroom at the Institute. His hair is neatly styled and he’s wearing one of his better formal attire.

Alec sighs as he looks at his one cat eye in the mirror. Twenty-four years of living with his soulmate’s eye and he still has a difficult time seeing his reflection. It’s not his soulmate’s fault, Alec would never blame him for what he was naturally born with. It’s the Clave’s fault that downworlder’s are viewed in such a harsh light. If this is how Alec is treated as a Shadowhunter for having a cat eye, he can hardly imagine the discrimination that his soulmate had to go through. That’s why he’s started the Downworld Cabinet, to let the downworlder’s of New York know that the Institute has their back.

He adjusts the collar of his button-up for the tenth time. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous about this first meeting. He’s been in correspondence with the leaders of the New York Downworld for weeks now making sure that everything is ready to go for this gathering.

He’s known Maia for as long as he can remember. She’s been his friend ever since his siblings have been dragging him to Hunter’s Moon to “let loose” and he sat at the bar chatting her up every night. Her saying yes to this was a given, knowing how much he wants to make the downworld feel safe in this city they call home.

Raphael was a bit more difficult getting him to agree to come to the meeting. Of course, Alec mentioned that the meeting would take place after dark or if Raphael had requested it, in a windowless room and hire a warlock to portal him there. He didn’t know why the vampire had such issues with him.

At first, he thought it was because of his eye from the few times they worked together taking down illegal dens. Alec would sometimes catch him staring at the eye with a blank expression. He eventually agreed because of Izzy. The vampire had taken a liking to his sister more than him but he wasn’t going to look too closely into why that was.

The seelies were a struggle to get an answer out of. Their queen loved to create trouble and inconveniences out of nothing so getting them to agree was tiring and took longer than necessary. He will forever thank Raziel that they are sending Meliorn to be their representative for this meeting. He and Alec have a respectable relationship if you could call it that.

Last but not least the mysterious High Warlock of Brooklyn, Magnus Bane. Since becoming Head a year ago, Alec has not once interacted with the man. All of their correspondence has been through either fire message, texting, or calling. Alec had tried to suggest email once and Magnus had gagged on the line over the phone. Alec thought it was a tad dramatic but the noise had gotten a laugh out of him. Alec also saw this as the perfect reason to have Magnus look over the Institute’s wards. Two birds, one stone kind of situation. Thankfully Magnus agreed.

He’s taken out of his thoughts but a loud knock on his door.

“Hurry up, Hermano!” Izzy’s muffled voice says. “They’re going to be here any minute!”

“I’ll be right out.” One last look in the mirror, a slight adjustment to the cuffs on his suit and he opens the door. Izzy looks him up and down, clearly judging his appearance as if she wasn’t the one to pick the outfit.

“You look great, Alec,” she settles on. She steps forward to adjust his lapels before making her way out of the room with Alec in tow.

“Thanks,” he mutters, easily catching up to her strides. “Has the room been prepared?”

“Yes, for the millionth time, everything is ready.” Izzy rolls of her eyes. “You didn’t spend the last week locked away in your office planning out everything just for it to go wrong.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs. “I just want this to go right.”

“And it will. Alec, they wouldn’t have shown up if they didn’t believe this cabinet meeting could lead to something better,” she reasons as they turn the corner leading to the meeting room.

“There’s no one else who could pull this off but you, Alec,” Izzy praises. “I guarantee that none of these leaders would be here if it was our mother.”

That picture gets a laugh out of him. He can barely imagine any of them being in the same room as their mother. Though he does know that Magnus would gladly go toe to toe with Maryse. He’s witnessed that first hand when Magnus came by the institute when he was younger. He wasn’t able to see the man, but his words were loud enough that a ten-year-old Alec heard them from his room late one night. It’s how he’s been able to stand up to his mother now.

Of course, he hasn’t told Magnus that. The High Warlock would never let him hear the end of it if it was discovered that it was thanks to him that Alec was able to take the Institute from his parents and create this cabinet.

Alec steps into the meeting room and is blown away by the decor. Banners of each faction hang on the wall behind the round table. Each chair looks the same, no difference in material or texture. It looks equal.

“Izzy this is beautiful,” he compliments, wrapping his sister in a hug. “This is really happening.”

“It is,” she laughs.

Footsteps approach behind them. Jace is standing at the entryway with a big grin on his face.

“They’ve arrived,” he announces.

“Thank you, Jace.” Alec nods his head towards his brother. Izzy helps adjust his suit for one last time before they both approach the door.

Maia is the first one to enter. Her matched eyes widen at the sight of the room.

“Ms. Roberts,” Alec announces. “Thank you for coming.”

Maia snorts at the introduction. “I bet you rehearsed that in your bathroom.”

“Of course not,” Alec denies, he nods towards his sister. “I rehearsed it with Izzy.”

Maia and Izzy laugh at the joke. Izzy loops her arm around her soulmate’s, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She leads Maia to the table while Alec remains at the door. He might as well let the two have a few minutes alone before this meeting begins.

Meliorn is the next to arrive. He is escorted by a single guard which strikes him odd since Meliorn is the leader of the Seelie Queens Royal Guardsmen. His confusion must be visible by the smirk he receives.

“Meliorn,” Alec greets. “Thank you for agreeing to come and represent your people.”

“Of course, Mr. Lightwood,” Meliorn bows his head, “and apologies for the plus one. They will be staying out in the hall while the meeting is going on, but my Queen requested that I bring company in case this was a rouse.”

“That’s alright, though I would have hoped the queen had more confidence in me.”

“Oh she most certainly does,” Meliorn cryptically says. “She’s very interested in the Nephilim who’s fighting against his own people.”

“Of course, she is,” Alec chuckles. “Always the curious one.”

That gets a real smile out of the Seelie, both knowing what Alec truly meant by the words. The Seelie Queen always liked to shove her nose where it didn’t belong and this was only the start. Alec wonders, as time passes, if the Queen herself will show up to one of these meetings. The thought along makes his body shiver with dread at the thought of her mind games and cryptic answer during a meeting that not only has Maia and Raphael but Magnus as well.

Meliorn nods to his guard and they go to stand against the wall opposite of the double doors leading to the meeting room.

“If there is anything you would like while you wait for the meeting to adjourn, please let my sister, Isabelle know,” he says. The guard looks at him with curious eyes before a smile appears, acknowledging his words.

“I will keep that in mind,” they say. “Thank you, Mr. Lightwood.”

Alec smiles back and turns towards the next guest to arrive.

Raphael has a scowl on his face as he approaches Alec. It took a while for Alec not to be offended by that look as it seemed to be the man’s permanent expression, but it is looking particularly more loathsome tonight.

“Raphael,” Alec greets, holding out his hand. “It’s good to see you. Thank you for agreeing to this meeting.”

“It’s not like I had a choice,” Raphael states, rolling his eyes. “Our mutual friend was very adamant that I go to this and show appreciation for the effort you are putting forth.”

“I see,” Alec says, there’s a smirk on his face. “Magnus must have some good dirt on you to get you to come then.”

Raphael’s scowl turns into a small smile, the kind of smile that Alec knows will make his life hell during this meeting. He’s only seen that smile twice before in the times that he’s interacted with the vampire. Once when they were about to go into an illegal den and the second time when he asked Alec about Izzy.

Though as much as they give each other flak, Alec likes to think there is a mutual respect between them the people they lead. Since Camille was taken out of the picture, meaning arrested and locked away in the Gard, the tension between the werewolves and vampires has decreased immensely.

“I’d be careful what you say at this meeting, Lightwood,” Raphael warns. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think the Head of the Institute has favorites.”

Alec feels his cheeks red but keeps his face neutral. While it is not well known that Alec has developed a small crush on the High Warlock. It’s kind of hard to keep it a secret from the man Magnus practically raised like a son. Especially when Alec has not so subtly asked about the man when he visited the DuMort not too long ago.

Raphael gives him a once over and heads towards the table. Three down, one more to go.

Alec looks down at his watch and sees that the meeting is supposed to start in five minutes and the High Warlock has yet to arrive. He taps his foot on the tiled floor deciding if he should wait for Magnus or get the meeting started. He looks back at the table and sees that everyone is already seated and looking at him. He lets out a sigh and makes his way towards the round table.

“Magnus running late?” Maia snickers as Alec sits down.

“It would seem so,” Alec sighs. “I would wait for him, but knowing him. He’s probably going to be as he states ‘fashionably late’.”

Maia snorts at the comment while Raphael rolls is eyes. Meliorn just smiles at them for their reactions. It warms his soul that they all feel comfortable inside the Institute. It took a lot of work this past year to get the Institute to get used to seeing downworlder’s inside its walls and make sure that everyone felt welcome.

It was a mess of people requesting transfers and patrol changes, but Alec took it all. What surprised him was the number of people requesting to come here. Alec was sure that he would lose a lot of shadowhunters with the changes he was making, that it would be a while before those numbers rose again. At first, a few people requested a transfer to New York and by the end of the first month, he had more people coming in than out. Jace and Izzy made fun of him because of the smug look he had that entire week.

Alec starts the meeting with a discussion about any issues the others were having in the past months. Any issues with shadowhunters or downworlders alike. Though Alec doesn’t want to intervene in downworld issues, he still wants them to know that if its a situation the shadowhunters could help with, he was willing to send his best people to assist.

About 20 minutes later the doors to the room burst open and a man wearing the most beautiful outfit storms in. Alec pauses mid-sentence to take in the man.

“Dios mio,” sighs Raphael.

“Sorry I’m late everyone or should I say I’m not late you are all early?” Magnus jokes as he approaches the table. His head is still down looking at his outfit, fixing it up where he can.

“You do know how to make an entrance Magnus,” Meliorn comments, looking back and forth between Alec and Magnus like he’s waiting for something. Raphael does the same but more subtly.

“Yes, well what can I say? I love being fashionably late,” Magnus trails off as he lifts his head and makes eye contact with Alec.

Alec feels his voice gets stuck in his throat as he takes in Magnus’ eyes.

One cat eye and one hazel.

Alec feels the change and sees it at the same time. His left eye shifts to a normal pupil shape while he watches Magnus’ hazel eye disappear into another cat eye. Something in Alec’s chest fills and he finally feels whole. Like the missing piece of a puzzle was found and locked into place.

Silence fills the room, everyone holding their breaths as they watch the Head of the New York Institute and the High Warlock of Brooklyn stare at each other in wonder.

“Oh.”

#malec #alec lightwood #magnus bane #meliorn #raphael santiago #maia roberts #izzy lightwood #jace herondale #shadowhunters #soulmate au #canon divergence #fanfiction #heterochromia #my writing

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

Vengeful Tease

Self indulgent Dark sparks fic that ended up Way bigger than intended.

Summary: With Natalie being a tease in the arena and loving to ‘play with her food’ it leads to a back and forth tease war between herself and Wraith. Leading to a lil bit of exhibitionism inside of Elliott’s bar (Sorry Ellie :( )

Rebogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked on sight!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Wraith/Wattson

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Trans gal Wattson with cock/dick verbiage for her, teasing, public play, Wraith has lots of body mods and is mildly mentioned, possessive behavior from Natalie, p tame for a lemon!

Words: 4.4k

___________

To say that either of them were clueless in the beginning was an understatement.

At some point, Natalie had gotten comfortable and close enough to Wraith to call her ‘best friend’. Gleefully shouting it whenever she could and wrapping her arms around Wraith with delight. Yet, on the same hand, Natalie couldn’t ever place why Wraith would only half smile at the term ‘best friend’ and why she was the only one who could hug her without threat of a kunai at her abdomen.

And on that other hand, Wraith couldn’t place why ‘best friend’ made her heart do a funny thing of almost disappointment. Or why she felt safe enough to let Natalie wrap her arms around her, burying herself into Natalie’s shoulder and curling her fingers at the middle of her back. Or why when Natalie’s perfume lingered on her clothing, that she seemed to perform better in the ring.

Or why both of them had become so comfortable to the point Wraith could allow affection to her person, or that Natalie knew that Wraith’s room was her comfort area. Or that she could outwardly stim in front of her in ways that someone else would perhaps mock, but Wraith would just smile patiently before proceeding the conversation when Natalie worked it out of her system.

~Rest under the cut~

Or why when one night, Natalie had been excited to be taught eyeliner and Wraith had stood in front of her, carefully applying it, how both their eyes had lingered on each other’s lips and the tension between them lasted all night.

Now? Wraith wouldn’t tell you how long it took either of them to catch on. But Natalie would be the first to tell you that Wraith isn’t all salt and vinegar.

Wraith had...expected it to go a lot smoother- or well, had expected that Natalie might have been the more nervous or shy one. Turns out, Wraith was the one who was nervous and shy, trying to go slow or not sure what was too fast. Their first kiss had been Wraith saying she was finally ready and Natalie beaming so bright and clapping a few times.

It had taken a whole three minutes for Natalie to stop getting too excited when their faces were close. Herself bursting into giggle fits and murmuring about how exciting this was, grabbing her skirt and flapping it a few times before going, “Okay, okay! We can do this! Gah! You’re so cute- ah hold on-” And having to lean back to ground herself.

It was Wraith who finally cupped her cheeks and gave her the quickest peck, only to have Natalie giddily climbing into her smaller girlfriend’s lap to press cherry tasting kisses all over her face and lips.

Elliott had tried to give pointers when Wraith asked, but after finding out he was just as hopeless and projected himself full of experience, it was clear both of them weren’t going anywhere. Certainly not with Elliott a mess himself and gesturing loudly about how he couldn’t even tell Bloodhound that their shots were ext- exarg—extra—extrav- really super cool.

It didn’t help Pathfinder had patted him on the back and exclaimed in that permanently delighted tone, “It’s alright, best friend! I’m sure they would have shown you first hand what a good shot they are!” And making Elliott groan and thunk his head into his hands.

At least both Pathfinder and Elliott try to help Wraith with girls. Both having varying inputs until Wraith realizes that the best way to do this is to, well, actually talk to Natalie.

It goes...great, save for the part where Wraith feels tears sticking to her lashes as her throat clogs up. Trying to get out her fears, of her thoughts, having to try and open up. Natalie is just as patient, sitting with her and asking if she needs a break. Telling her she could write it down instead if that helped. Going so far as to bring Wraith a notebook and markers just in case.

God, she loved her.

Now, thankfully, quite a few months into their relationship and coming up on their ‘first year’ according to Natalie who kept track, they’re pretty stable. Keeping communication constant. Well, except for in the arena if they weren’t on the same squad. Natalie certainly made it more of a challenge with her taunting with sniper shots around Wraith’s feet as a warning she was coming to get her.

Made the killing part less heartbreaking and more like a primal instinct of competition.

That’s what had happened earlier in a match. Natalie had gotten the upper hand that time all because Mirage had gotten separated from her own duo. Wraith, later, would find it was due to sniper shots chasing him the other direction that were from his own partner, whilst Wraith had been chased the opposite direction with the sound of a revving peacekeeper right on her ass.

She’d found herself chased into one of the bunkers, managing to get her back to the charge tower so she’d at least have a chance to turn around and maybe portal away. But then she finds herself knocked to the ground and a very cute electrical engineer happily in her lap with a peacekeeper tossed over her shoulder, and Wraith’s L-star slid to the side.

“Bonjour, mon trésor! Ah, it is a beautiful day for- how did you say it last time? Revenge?” Natalie’s voice is teasing, her eyes bright and delighted as she speaks. Overhead, the announcement for Champion Eliminated goes through the walls and a quick glance at the scoreboards on her arm piece tells Wraith there’s five squads left. And her own teammate is a death box.

“Mmh. Can’t recall. Was it before or after you screamed?” Wraith teases back, already accepting her fate. There wasn’t a way around it, her own weapons too far, even the kunai on her calf couldn’t be reached with Natalie straddling her lap. She could probably roll her over, but even then, she risked Natalie being quicker. And judging by the four other whispers curling on the left side of her head, that is precisely what would happen.

Regardless of the tease, Natalie is beaming bright at her, leaning down to peck her nose. “I’ll see you from the champion’s pedestal. Bye bye!” Before Wraith feels the blast of a revved-up peacekeeper and finds herself waking up in the medical bay and in desperate need of a shower.

True to her word, Natalie and Bloodhound place as the top duo. It’s sweet to see Natalie bounce on the screen from the showers where Wraith was getting dressed. Watching as she holds her fist out for Bloodhound who hesitates before gently bumping their own to her fist- much to her girlfriend’s delight.

Elliott is the one who suggests a little get together at his bar that night. To celebrate their victory, he says. So, it ends up with almost all the legends at his bar. Revenant, Alexander, nor Crypto attend, all having varying excuses.

Wraith tries to back out, but upon seeing Natalie’s joy at the idea of a day out, she’s quick to agree herself.

It’s when she arrives at Natalie’s room do things heat up. Wraith arrives with some outer wear of a cropped leather jacket, a black lacy bralette and matching torn up, high waisted skinny jeans and her boots. Her hair is down, washed and in gentle waves curling onto her shoulders. She’s even got a bit of eyeliner and lipgloss on, and the black choker with a silver heart on that Natalie had gotten her.

Once she’s in, she’s quickly dragged into the bedroom and told to wait right there as Natalie disappears into her bathroom to get dressed. A laugh bubbles from Wraith’s lips, her pierced tongue flicking across her lips, “Nat, not that I mind you wanting to change in the other room- but I’ve seen you naked before.”

“But! I have a surprise for you! I got a new dress, just- let me-” There’s a small struggle noise on the other side of the door that makes Wraith bite her lip to resist laughing. Hearing the small ‘pat pat’ of Natalie trying to jump her way into something and the sound of shimmying before the door opens up.

All that peeks out is her head, allowing Wraith to see her huge smile narrowing her bright blue eyes that have a touch of pink eyeshadow clouded around them. Her hair is a bit frazzled, her short, triangular bob looking almost like static is making it float. Her undercut at her nape looked freshly shaven too once she turns her head as if to peek back into the bathroom, and Wraith was dying to get her hands on its velvety texture.

“Well?” Wraith gestures to the still closed door and watches Natalie grin softly this time, as if she’s shy. There’s a moment where she seems too nervous, or even too excited before she pulls back the door and stands in the doorway with her hands in the air excitedly.

“Ta-da!” Natalie happily exclaims, doing a small twirl where she stands to show it off in full. It looked tailor made, a cotton candy blue fabric covered with yellow lightning bolts dress with tied straps at her shoulders in sweet little bows. The top was a bit low, showing off her cleavage with the top part looking to be made out of stretchy fabric. Down to a fitted waist with a flared-out skirt at her hips with a fluffy petticoat underneath, much like a sundress, that reached just above her knees. What she must have been jumping into must have been the fishnet tights she had on, going into her everyday pink and blue sneakers.

She looks the direct opposite of Wraith. Bright, sunny, bubbly, sweet.

She’s watching you.

Are you just going to stare?

You’re making it obvious-

Wraith mentally tries to block out the sounds of the whispering that remind her. At least twelve fawning over their- her- their—no her girlfriend. Clearing her throat as she tries to find her voice with the throbbing echo lingering. “Y-yeah it’s- uh. It’s definitely cute. You look beautiful, Nat. Did you cut your hair?”

“Yes! You noticed? Would you like to feel?” As if reading her mind, Natalie’s already coming closer, tilting her head down so Wraith can reach up. Feeling over the soft fuzzy of her nape until her hand drops to cup there.

For a brief moment they look at each other, with their faces close and Natalie’s eyes flickering down to Wraith’s parted, plump lips. Gently, Natalie’s resting her arms over Wraith’s shoulders, looping them and smiling oh so softly at her as Wraith’s fingers idly trace over her nape.

Kiss her.

Kiss her, what are you waiting for?

Kiss her she wants you to, she wants you to, she wants you to...

She wants you to kiss her.

“Too loud?” Natalie murmurs, snapping Wraith from her glazed state. Her bright white eyes flicker up to read Natalie’s expression, patient as ever with a soft smile. Wraith gives one back, letting her hand slowly drop from her nape to let both hands rest on the dips of Natalie’s waist. Gently thumbing over the fabric there.

“Nothing bad.” She reassures her, tilting her head ever so slightly and watching as Natalie follows the motion, leaning ever so slightly closer until their breath mingles. “Lookin’ to quiet my mind?”

A grin splits across Natalie’s face, her eyes brightening with a mischievous little expression. “Anything for you, mon bébé.”

That’s how they end up late to the bar. When Natalie had kissed her, holding Wraith tighter, she had moaned and grabbed at her waist tighter. Resulting in gently getting pressed backwards until Wraith fell onto the bed and had Natalie in her lap. Her skirt fanned around them and over her hips, a memory of the arena and the sound of the peacekeeper distant in her mind when Natalie kisses her again.

It really isn’t Wraith’s fault when she ends up with small hickeys on her neck surrounding her choker. Nor is it Wraith’s fault when Natalie is grinding against her lap, panting into her ear about how badly she wanted Wraith to touch her. Whining about how good she could be for her, how she’d do anything to have Wraith’s legs spread, please, please, please, she just wanted to taste her-

But it is Wraith’s fault for reminding her they had a bar to get to.

That results in Natalie huffing, at first starting to make an excuse, but then she sits up. Her eyes sparkling and fluttering her lashes despite her flushed face. “Alright. You’re right. Let’s go.” Said in a perfectly sweet tone as she slides off Wraith’s lap and adjusts her skirt. Wraith is certainly thrown for a loop, and not liking the mischief in her girlfriend’s eyes when Wraith narrows her eyes in suspicion at her sweetness.

When they arrive, Elliott greets them brightly. Though his eyes do linger a moment on Wraith’s neck, giving her a playful look of raised eyebrows whilst she cranes her neck to the side to see a bite mark in double canine placements on his own neck, making the same face back at him. Their quiet exchange quickly left to just quiet when Elliott quickly shoots a look her way that says to drop it before she can make a remark.

Wraith realizes quickly why Natalie had been so quick to agree. Because this meant she could do her favorite thing: Teasing.

When they sit down for their drinks with everyone else at the bar table, Natalie idly rests a hand on Wraith’s thigh. Squeezing there whilst maintaining conversation as her fingers slide into Wraith’s inner thigh. “Oui! Bloodhound was a fantastic duo partner- do you think our sponsors would allow us to go again? I am sure Elliott will not mind having his butt kicked again?”

Resulting in Elliott grinning as he yells, “Hey, hey, hey! I wasn’t the only one getting my ass kicked by their own partner!” He’s quick to defend, shooting a look to Wraith who thanks the lights overhead that her heated face is not seen. Nor is anyone paying attention to where Natalie’s other hand is besides the one tapping the table. The one under it gently squeezing Wraith’s inner thigh until she parts her thighs and feels fingers tracing along the seam of her crotch.

“I let her win.” Wraith coolly replies, shooting a glance to Natalie who feigns an offended gasp and expression.

“You did not!”

“And you think I’d just let myself be hounded into a bunker if it was anyone else?”

“Yes! Because you were out of ammo!” Natalie cheekily replies, squeezing her thigh once more before leaning away to make conversation with Makoa who is howling with laughter at this point.

Wraith feels herself throb and curses herself when she glances over to see Natalie leaned over the table a bit and able to get an eyeful of her cleavage.

This was going to be harder than she thought. Especially with Natalie not catching anyone’s attention with her subtlety.

This happens the rest of the night. With soft whispers in Wraith’s ear when no one’s looking, softly biting her pierced lobes, to kissing up her neck when no one’s looking. To grabbing her ass when they’re both getting up to get drinks, keeping herself behind Wraith so she could slide a hand from behind and under her to rub at her through her jeans. It was torture, not to mention the thrill of the public play really sending Wraith over.

It isn’t until Natalie goes to the bathroom and everyone starts to move and do their own thing like darts or pool does Wraith get a text. She pulls it out at the table, instantly feeling a flush over her body to see Natalie in the private stall mirror with her ties undone on her shoulders and breasts exposed. One hand pulling her skirts up to show she’s not wearing panties and the fishnets keep her exposed, the other taking the picture cheekily with the caption, “Want to create sparks between us?” with little lightning bolt emojis spread around the image.

Natalie was really going to be the death of her with her adventurous taste. But, not like Wraith would want to even say no as she’s getting out of her seat and letting Elliott know she’s feeling a bit overwhelmed so she’s going to go to the bathroom. He’s understanding and kind as always, telling her to text him if she needs anything and if he sees Natalie he’ll let her know!

He knows.

Can’t lie to him.

Bloodhound is watching him.

They look hungry.

Thanks, great, guys. Now’s not the time to worry about if Elliott is going to get pounced either. More important things at hand like trying to go to the restroom area and figure out which room Natalie is in.

On your left.

An echo relaying through Wraith’s mind just as a door peeks open on her left and her jacket sleeve is caught, dragging her into one of the private bathrooms. The click of the automatic lock behind her sounds deathly loud despite the soft bass boosted music still thrumming in the restroom. Wraith has her back against the door, looking up at Natalie who still has her top pulled down. And even despite having seen her naked more times than she could count, Wraith still politely maintains her eyes on her girlfriend’s face.

“Hi,” Natalie smiles, her voice soft as she comes a little closer. Only briefly making eye contact with Wraith before having to glance away. Their bodies are pressed together now, her chest against Wraith and her warmth spilling over their bodies. She’s coy in the way she leans her head in, tilted ever so slightly and breath fanning across Wraith’s lips. “Is...this something you would be interested in?”

The smallest question of consent, the smallest gesture that Wraith could back out, that relaxes her entire body all at once. A sigh exhaling from her glossy lips and watching as Natalie licks her own nervously. Wraith can’t help the soft laugh that escapes her, gently reaching up to cup Natalie’s cheek and swiping her thumb over the scarring on her face softly. “Think it’s a little hard for me not to be interested.”

It’s the playful tone that makes Natalie smile, leaning into Wraith’s hand briefly before being guided forward into a kiss. At first it’s gentle, with both of Wraith’s hands coming up to rake through Natalie’s hair. Wraith is the first to nip at her bottom lip to make Natalie moan softly, pressing their bodies closer and one of her hands coming down to grab Wraith’s thigh and hitching it around her waist.

“Nat-” Wraith whines out when their kiss breaks, Natalie kissing down her jawline and down her neck to where the smaller bruises had been from earlier. A gasp chokes from her lungs when Natalie bites down on one, sucking over the flesh to leave it darker and large just beneath her choker.

“You chose to wear your choker one purpose, oui?” Natalie teases when she pulls back, using her free hand to trace her fingers over the new bruise. Pulling her fingers up and tucking just underneath the choker through the little heart in the front to give a little tug.

Wraith’s face flushes, because yeah okay maybe she did. She almost picked her collar instead, black with silver studs, looked perfectly suitable for outside. But the embarrassment had been too strong.

Natalie’s mouth finds her neck again, softly kissing until she finds the spot she wants to create a bigger bruise. Wraith hisses, gently tugging at her hair as she manages to get out, “Yes- fuck, Nat, they’re going to see-”

“Let them see.” She murmurs back against her neck, kissing down her body as she starts to sink to her knees. God, she looked pretty like that, Wraith thinks. Her skirt fanned around her waist, top pulled down to reveal her C cup breasts with little beauty marks dotting them. Wraith’s mouth waters at the idea of getting her mouth on them, but is quickly distracted when she feels her jeans being undone.

“I’ve been thinking about this since earlier,” Natalie sighs as she pulls Wraith’s jeans down with her help of a small shimmy. Pulling them down to mid-thigh with her panties and sighing at the sight of her. Wraith’s cunt had dark, soft hair there with the hair at her lower lips darker from her wetness. Her clit was on the larger side, enough to be a mouthful.

Natalie groans, nuzzling her nose against her mound to inhale her scent, breathing out her next words, “I almost asked to take you in the woods outside- but, I was unsure if this would even be ‘up your alley’.”

Wraith swears at even the mental image of Natalie taking her outside. Having her up against a tree and having to cover her own mouth as Natalie touched her. Thinking about the sweet, noisy thing that Natalie was when she was being touched, how she probably couldn’t keep quiet enough- someone would come see-

“Fuck-” Wraith gasps out, feeling Natalie part her lower lips and quickly running her tongue from her hole to clit. Her head thunks backwards onto the wall, one hand coming down to quickly fist into her hair and feeling her face burn when she feels Natalie moan back against her.

It wasn’t a surprise to her that Natalie liked to give head, an oral fixation of sorts she had explained, it helped keep her mind clear. Leading to Wraith some nights ending up only receiving head for hours at a time until she was overstimulated and couldn’t think.

Worked out great for them both to clear their minds.

It’s really hard to think of where they’re at right now with Natalie moaning against her cunt. Hands holding onto Wraith’s hips to keep her still despite her desperate attempts at trying to press her hips forward. Wraith’s much quieter between the two of them, sighs and gasps leaving her, occasionally looking down to watch how Natalie noses at her. Or to see how she backs up and peeks up to briefly catch Wraith’s gaze as she presses a wet kiss over her plump clit.

Wraith’s breath catches in another swear, curling her fingers at the back of Natalie’s head to hold her still. Trying to fuck her hips towards her mouth and finding Natalie still has a grip of her hips. The look Wraith is given could make her fall to her knees at how Natalie looks under her lashes, a smile quirking her lips as she suckles on her clit. Leaving one last, long lick before she’s pulling her head back to start peppering kisses over Wraith’s exposed hips and belly.

“Nat- Nat, come on, that isn’t fair-” Wraith breathes out, her clit throbbing and already feeling the denial edging through her body. It doesn’t help when Natalie leans down, blowing cool air over her and still keeping her held still so Wraith can’t even buck. “Nat! Fuck, come on we’re in- we're in public-”

“You know what I want to hear, mon coeur.”

Please.

You know the rules, behave.

She wants to hear you say please.

Just beg. Don’t fight. Look at her.

And Wraith does look at her, watching how Natalie looks up at her with such adoration. Her lips glossy from the wetness sticking to her and her own saliva, no shame in her eyes when she leans forward to give a sloppy, wet kiss to leave Wraith wanting more.

Even with Wraith’s hands in her hair, fingers shaking and trying so hard to guide Natalie’s pretty mouth back to her clit, it doesn’t work. She swallows thickly, practically on her tiptoes to try and gain some sort of leverage, but she quickly finds it doesn’t work.

“Please- please, please, let me cum. Baby, please?”

“Mmh...And what else?”

“I...” Wraith breathes out a soft sound when Natalie goes back to properly eating her out. Licking at her hole to get her wetness and gliding her tongue back up to her clit. Properly sealing her lips around it and moving her tongue just underneath to feel the harsh throbbing of Wraith getting close. “I’m- I’m yours! I’m yours, I’m yours!”

Wraith’s voice is a quiet, desperate shout, and that seems to be the magic word because Natalie’s moving her skirt out of the way and letting go of Wratih. Holding her skirt up in one hand and the other maneuvering her cock free from the fishnets to jerk herself off. Wraith wastes no time in curling her fingers into the blonde hair, holding Natalie still as she humps against her face, fucking her face earnestly with soft gasps leaving her throat.

Natalie moves her own hand in sync to the small humps, taking it like a champ with her own soft moaning fueling Wraith. It isn’t long before Wraith’s cumming, letting out a small cry and holding Natalie right in place so she can still fuck against her mouth. Riding out the waves until she’s satisfied with a shaky exhale and leaning back against the door.

When Natalie’s mouth is no longer busy getting fucked, a loud moan passes her lips just as Wraith reaches down to cup her cheek affectionately. Sliding her hand down to grab Natalie’s chin, angling her face upwards to see slick coating her chin and her eyes glazed over. Poor thing.

“Open your mouth, Nat.” Passes from her lips softly, watching as Natalie obediently does so, so Wraith can slide two fingers into her mouth to give her something to suck on. It muffles her whining too, her hips desperately fucking up into her own grip. She looked so cute like that, and not to mention, Wraith had some vengeance to enact for making her embarrassed. Both in the arena, and in here.

“You wanna fuck me, sweetheart?” Wraith croons out, watching as Natalie’s eyes flutter and she makes the sweetest ‘mmhhmm’ sound around her fingers.

A smile plays on her lips as she presses her fingers further into Natalie’s mouth to make her choke a bit, whining around her fingers as Wraith croons again, “Maybe if you’re a good girl I’ll let you fuck my thighs here and maybe, maybe I’ll ride you when we’re home, hm?”

Judging by the high whine and Natalie’s eyes tearing up, she’s going to take that as a ‘yes’.

Boy, she really hopes Elliott doesn’t come looking for them.

#Darksparks #Wattwraith #Wattson x Wraith #Apex legends #apex lemons #Wattson #Wraith #nsft #lemon #Trans Wattson #princess writing #Omg this was such a good fic too go me

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