#Arcadia Fallen fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tunafishprincess · 5 years

Text

The Roads We Take

Chapter 1: Twenty-Five

(Art by @brothebro, writing by @tunafishprincess ) Sequel to Fallen Too Far. This is rated M for Mature. Proceed with caution.

She is twenty-five, nearly twenty-six, but she feels sixteen.

Years have passed but high school still feels like yesterday to Claire. How could it not? Ten years: it terrifies her how in such a short period of time the world she knows has disappeared.

All she has left are the remaining people who remember her for who she was, however even that has been distorted by time. They treat her like glass, as though she were some expensive piece of art that could do no wrong. Her hermano, little NotEnrique, looks at her with uncertain eyes; his entire perception of her is created by her family and friends. As if she was some paragon of goodness, a princess trapped by an evil witch; that’s how their parents explained it to him.

But wrong is the very essence of her now. Her parents try to pretend everything is okay, but the emotions that radiates off the medical staff and guards tells her another story.

They are afraid.

And so is she.

The woman in the bathroom mirror is not her, not really. Her hips are too wide, her breasts too full, her face too mature—and that isn’t even the worst of it. The rich dark brown her Papí used to brush for her has vanished, replaced with a white so bright her eyes hurt to look at it for too long.

Ugly dark veins run up her arms and out of her eyes, branding her, as if to forever remind her of the horrors she caused.

She hates it. This is not her body, her hair, her face. Morgana twisted the girl she knew into the woman she did not and she is terrified. So utterly terrified.

After a while, she turns away, too sick with disgust to remain. The white gown they placed her in clings to her body, making her so desperately wish for her old clothes, even if they could no longer fit her. She has changed too much now to go back, and dios mío, she wishes she could go back.

Yet even still, time ticks on.

Claire wants to say she’s better (wants to be better), but she never will be, not after what Morgana has done to her.

Guilt eats at her innards, her soul, her entire being. The deaths she caused weigh heavily. Breathing takes effort, so much so that at times she wonders if she’ll suffocate under its load.

So many ‘if onlys’ pass through her mind, thousands upon thousands each day. Before, she cried, day after day, but now, all that is left is a hollow shell.

And isn’t that what she is now? Morgana destroyed her inside and out, emptied the part of her that made Claire herself in order to make way for the sorceress.

A small part of her wishes for death. She deserves it, especially after what she did to everyone, to her family and friends, to Jim—God, Jim.

If she is the drowning swimmer than he is the life raft she desperately clings onto. How could he look at her so lovingly? She didn’t deserve him, not after what she did. Yet still, he stays at her side, her protector, forever and always.

How pathetic. What a selfish being she has become.

Look at her. Her old self would be repulsed by such desperation.

Claire knows it is wrong to dependent on him so much, but now the feeling is innate. She wonders if that is why Morgana never gave up on Jim, if Claire’s feelings influenced the witch to hold onto that last bit of sanity within the darkness.

Who knows. In the end, Morgana is gone and Claire, well…Claire is here.

She isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or not.

The door opens, carefully, as if not to startle her. Claire’s hand clenches the railing she uses to walk between the bathroom and her bed, she tries to smile, even though it feels as plastic as the sheets she sleeps on.

“Toby,” she begins, clearing her throat. “You’re early.”

He approaches her cheerfully, a pip in his step that softens the fake smile on her lips. It reminds her of old times. Even though he has lost weight and aged, she can still see the excited gleam in his eye he got when he had good news. “I couldn’t wait for Jim to get here. The verdict just came back!”

Her brows furrowed.

“Verdict?” She asks.

Immediately, Toby pales. His hands freeze in the air.

The stench of secrecy is thick. Claire can feel the annoyance inside her rising, just below the surface of skin.

“Oh…Oh crap. I forgot,” he admits in a soft voice.

Claire tries to edge forward. “Forgot what?”

Unfortunately, her foot slips on the linoleum, breaking her trek towards the other. Her breath hitches as strong hands catch her. She blinks widely as her boyfriend came into view.

Her eyes flicker over to the open door.

She hadn’t even heard him come in. Another of Jim’s abilities perhaps? It is a surprising discover, especially considering his size.

“What’s going on?” Jim asks, worry in his sharp features. He examines her body like a hawk, lingering at her chest for a moment before returning to her eyes. Blood rushes to her cheeks.

“Claire, are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine,” she stammers out. As if reading her mind, Jim guides her to the bed, his hand encompassing most of her back. It is a comforting warmth. She is saddened when he removes it.

Toby’s mouth twitches. There is so much uncertainty in his stance. It reminds her of her previous question.

Fixing her gaze on her old friend once more, she reiterates, “What’s this about a verdict?”

She watches Jim this time, his expression closed off but the hairs on his neck and forearms rising almost instantaneously. Claire reaches out, settling her palm to his cheek. Softness spreads across his features. He cups her hand with his own, engulfing it in a steady, pulsing heat.

“Well, the good news is we can finally get you love-birds out of this place! I’m thinking beach, or, oh, oh! Maybe the countryside? I don’t know about you guys but I am totes ready for a vaca. Can I hear an amen?” Toby asks.

Claire frowns. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“Nothing gets past you huh?” Toby sighs.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jim asserts. “We’re safe. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“Jim.” She leans forward, so close she can see the detailed texture of his skin. It is a strange mixture of pore and rock, the uncanny but beautiful valley between the two species. “Tell me.”

Jim’s face darkens. His golden pupils dilate, his gaze clouding over with a stormy grimace. Inwardly, she knows it is her fault he is like this now. Claire wonders what it is he is looking at: her or some past memory. Perhaps both.

“You know what happened,” he states.

She nods. Her other hand fists the fabric of her blanket.

“What I did as Morgana’s champion will never be erased. To most of humanity, I’m a monster.”

“But you’re not.” She shakes her head. “Morgana controlled you, manipulated you.”

“Claire, you don’t understand. I had a choice,” Jim stresses, his other hand resting at her knee. Selfishly, she moves closer to the warmth. Out of everything and everyone in the room, Jim is the only one who is warmest.

“What was the verdict about?” She asks again.

It is Toby who speaks up first, “Whether he would continue to carry out the duty of Trollhunter or…” There is a pause, one that feels like an eternity for Claire until he answers, “whether it would get passed to someone else.

Her boyfriend pulls out of her reach, as though on autopilot. Claire wants him to stay, wants to use his warmth once more, but the second he leaves her range it is freezing again.

They were going to kill Jim? The annoyance within transfigures into a freezing tundra of fear.

No. Never. Jim is hers, just as Claire is his. Why would they try and separate them? Didn’t they see how much Claire needs him to live?

“No, no, no, no—” She chanted, her fingers burrowed into her hair. “Why didn’t you two tell me?”

“Relax, okay? Everything’s going to be fine. The verdict went fine. Jim’s still here,” Toby tries to comfort her.

But it’s not. Nothing is fine. Toby isn’t fine, Jim isn’t fine—No one is. The cracks along her hands and arms ache. It is as though a million ants were inching up her body, underneath her skin.

She resists the urge to violently scratch them like she did the first few days. It is why the Doctors make her keep her nails short now.

When she finally regains control of her emotions, Claire brushes him off. “It’s not fine. None of this is fine. You didn’t even tell me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her heart breaks as Jim presses himself into the corner, as if trying to make himself smaller. Is he terrified of her?

“We were afraid of how you would react,” Toby says, hands up and facing her.

“So what, you’ll just treat me like some porcelain doll the rest of my life, is that it?” Claire snaps. She can’t help it. The emotions within are boiling over.

Toby presses forward. “No, Claire, it’s just, after everything that’s happened—”

“Stop it!”

Her water glass shatters. She doesn’t see how it happens, but she knows in her heart who did it.

Morgana left more than scars on Claire after all.

In the corner of her eye, she notices a long crack has developed in the window that was not there before. Another testament to her emotional state.

To no surprise, Jim has disappeared from the room. Because of her.

“I’m sorry,” she cries, and truly she means it. Everything is her doing.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Toby says, resting a hand on her shoulder. It is warm, but not like Jim’s. It barely heats her at all. “We know you didn’t mean it.”

“I want to be alone,” she whispers.

“You sure, Claire-Bear?” He says, leaning over.

A multitude of emotions pass over her friend’s face. This Toby is more calculative and calm, holding a maturity Claire wishes she could possess. Even when facing her darkest moments, he stands tall. She envies that confidence.

“Go. Talk to Jim. He looks like he needs it more than I do right now,” she suggests.

Toby’s lips smooth into a thin line, but he nods. As he turns towards the door, he looks back.

“I’m just a call away. Anytime, anywhere. Darci too.”

Halfway outside, Claire calls out. “Wait. Toby, be honest with me, what does the verdict really mean?”

And like that, the old vestiges of Toby are gone. The man before her leans on the frame, an age-old look crossing his features.

“The world has changed a lot since you last saw it, Claire. The new world government wants order.”

“They’re going to use him, just like I—Morgana did.”

Toby nodded.

“This is my fault.” How could it not be? She wishes they would just admit it.

“No it’s not,” Toby stresses, halfway back inside. “You’re not—”

“Go,” she commands. No more. Claire can’t stand the way he looks at her.

“But—”

“Go!”

The crack along the window spreads out like a spiderweb. A freezing wind envelops the area, blowing her hair around and pushing the door close with a sharp echoing slam.

The lights flicker, off and on, until she regains control once more.

As the magic disperses, her body loosens, tears running freely. Her arms burn from the use of magic. Everything hurts, but none approach the pain in her chest.

Morgana’s magic flows through her now. And for someone as broken as she, it is no wonder her friends are afraid both for and of her.

She wishes she could go back. She wishes she had fought harder. But wishing doesn’t turn back time. Believe her, she’s tried. Claire glances upwards, back in the bathroom mirror. She is a monster. And that’s all she ever will be.

Chapter 2: Coming soon

123 notes · View notes

tangent101 · 3 years

Text

An interesting Life is Strange writing concept

I just recently stumbled across an interesting concept for Life is Strange in which Alex Chen was adopted by the Caulfield family and went to Blackwell with Max... and it got me thinking.

First, I need to say this outright. I am using this fanfiction's idea as a launching point for brainstorming of concepts and ideas. My ideas are no better or worse than the fanfiction. This other story is fantastic on its own and does not need my input and this is not a criticism of the story. Instead, it's an examination of a basic concept: What happens if Alex Chen were to be adopted by the Caulfield clan.

The first thing to consider is this: Alex is a psychic. She is predominantly empathic and can get flashes of thoughts when emotions are intense enough and/or she focuses on what that person is thinking. So... this has caused a number of fostering situations to fall through.

Interestingly enough, there is a point when the Caulfield clan could have taken in Alex before this became an issue... and that's when Alex was 11 and first put into the foster care system. Foster parents are actually given a stipend to help pay for the financial expenses behind caring for a child, and in theory that could have been enough money to keep Ryan and Vanessa from moving out of Arcadia Bay.

But let's say that they actually adopted Alex (and thus potentially forfeited that financial boon). Would they adopt Alex and abandon Gabe to the system? Would we have two kids becoming Max's big brother and kid sister?

In this situation, Chloe would obviously know that Max has siblings now. And what's more, I cannot help but think that Alex, with her burgeoning psychic abilities, would push Max to either stay in contact or get back in contact with Chloe.

Okay, let's change things up. Alternative Reality #2 had the Chen family uproot themselves as Alex's father looked for employment. He ended up working at the docks in Seattle but losing his job when the incident happens that resulted in Social Services putting Alex and Gabe in the foster system. Alex languishes in a foster care system that is not good. Gabe ends up in Juvie. And when Alex was 14, she ends up fostered to the Caulfield family.

At this point, it's 2011. Max has been out of contact with Chloe for several years. She is pining though. And Alex, with psychic nerves rubbed raw, likely has come across several instances of this. Max, being the sort of person who hates causing a commotion, would not tell her parents about any weirdness and indeed if her parents were getting weirded out likely would come to Alex's defense. So after a small waiting period you end up having Alex adopted by the Caulfield clan... with emerging psychic powers but a family that is far more comforting and caring than the foster care system.

Alex knows how much Max misses Chloe. Yes, it's been a couple of years. But Alex herself has had friends in the foster care system that she has fallen out of touch with, others that ditched her, and she likely knows what it's like to be abandoned. Alex likely would push Max to get back in touch with Chloe early on.

I can't help but think that Max would succumb to Alex's good-intended urging on this. So Max contacts Chloe. She sends a text.

Let's say that Rachel intercepted the text. She blocks Max's number. Chloe doesn't need that drama in her life. (Bad enough that Joyce is constantly bringing up Max, and Chloe is having trouble letting her go. It's better this way. Sometimes you have to move on. Jealousy has nothing to do with this.)

Or maybe David confiscated Chloe's phone and blocked the number and deleted the text because Chloe doesn't need old friends when he's trying to break down this young soldier to rebuild into a productive member of society according to his military mindset (HA!) and Rachel's innocent in this.

Alex wouldn't just let this drop. Anyone who's played True Colors knows how stubborn our young lady is. And she's driven by psychic powers as well that are blossoming under a more loving home. Wouldn't Alex follow up with her own text? And Rachel or David likely wouldn't intercept every text or block her as well. Hell, she might go for broke and call Joyce. And Joyce sure as blazes would make sure that Chloe knew Max was contacting her. (And that Max has a sister now.)

So Chloe is now in touch with Max. The roadblocks are quite important because if Rachel blocked Max's number, then this is going to cause a bit of a blowup that weakens Chloe and Rachel's relationship, while if David were the culprit then Joyce is going to have words with him (as she loves Max and sees her as not only a second daughter but a stabilizing influence).

Of course, there is always possibility 3 - neither David nor Rachel tried to block Max's efforts to contact Chloe and that went off without a hitch but where's the fun in that? XD

Anyway, Alex would be urging Max to remain in touch with Chloe. She would also likely notice that Max is crushing hard on Chloe and may very well push Max down that path. And given that Rachel was flirting with other people... well, Max being back in Chloe's life could do one of two things - either draw Rachel closer into Chloe's circle out of jealousy, or give Rachel reason to push Chloe toward Max and do her own thing while remaining friends with Chloe.

I like Rachel. I can't help but think it would be #2, especially given what we know about Rachel from the original Life is Strange. She cared deeply for Chloe and didn't want to hurt her. So... yes, I can see Rachel helping encourage Chloe to let bygones be bygones and to pursue her own romantic leanings toward Max. We'd have shippers on either end pushing the two together (Alex pushing Max and Rachel pushing Chloe).

It might even be amusing and interesting to see Rachel and Chloe drive up to Seattle to meet Max and for Rachel in that situation to meet the mysterious Alex Chen who she's been texting and possibly flirting with on the phone. (Amberchen? Hmmm...)

One other thing that is likely to happen is that Max would be a stabilizing influence on Chloe's life. She is a pressure valve even as Rachel was more of an instigator. So with Max urging Chloe to focus more on school, we may very well see Chloe starting to apply herself more to her classes. And if Chloe doesn't get kicked out of high school then David has one less thing to rail against Chloe with.

Rachel and Chloe would graduate a year before Max would (and two years before Alex). With Max back in Chloe's life, and a new friendship growing between Alex and Rachel? Then we may very well see Rachel less desperate for an escape because now there is a plan. Go to college with Chloe up in Seattle. Sure, it's not California but there are other advantages to the region (including legal weed!) and having good friends there would be reason enough. She escapes Jeffershit's death trap by never getting close to him. Nor does she get close to Frank. Similarly, Max has no reason to go to Blackwell because Chloe is coming to Seattle!

And Alex? Alex gets a home life that is far more loving than what she went through in the original timeline. And she has good friends... which will be useful when on October 13, 2013 a truly nasty storm strikes Arcadia Bay, wiping out most of the town and killing hundreds of people including the student body of Blackwell Academy. Because fate is a fickle bitch and Chloe Price wasn't dying as a sacrifice in a bathroom in Blackwell Academy. But you know? While Chloe, Rachel, and Max grieve... Max never blames herself for something outside of her control, and the girls never went through the horrors of the original Life is Strange.

Well done, Alex! You saved the day once again! ^^ And amusingly enough, when Max, Chloe, and Rachel go with Alex to meet her brother Gabe, Max is on hand to witness Gabe's death, her powers emerge, and she saves Alex's brother... but that is a different story. ;)

#alex chen #max caulfield #chloe price #rachel amber #life is strange #lis #life is strange: true colors #lis: true colors #lis: tc #alternate universe

28 notes · View notes

nikibogwater · 4 years

Text

“Feline Paralysis”--a Tales of Arcadia fanfiction

Feline Paralysis (def): A state of immobility caused by the presence of a cat on top of one's person.

Archie's boy has been working himself too hard ever since Merlin took them in, and Archie is determined to put a stop to it by any means necessary.

It is Soft Douxie-Archie Friendship Hours, my dears. @poetryinmotion-author gave me the prompt, and I think I may have taken it way further than even she was expecting, so....yeah, buckle up, it’s time for some Feels. 🙃

Read on AO3

Or below the cut:

Archibald was on the hunt.

It was actually a rather nice change of pace, truth be told. Archie hadn’t needed to hunt even once since Merlin took them in two weeks ago, and while he certainly appreciated having immediate access to food at all times, he had been growing a bit stiff and lethargic as a result. A cat (and a dragon too, for that matter) simply had to spend a little time stalking and chasing, or else they would lose their edge. Today’s hunt was a bit different, however. This hunt was not about obtaining food, or even just keeping his claws sharp. No, this hunt was about something a little more dear to Archie’s heart.

Today, Archie was hunting Douxie.

Something strange had come over the boy in the last two weeks. He had been uncannily industrious, jumping at every opportunity to do even the most menial of tasks, slaving away in Merlin’s study long after the Master had retired, even badgering the old wizard for more chores to do. Douxie was no stranger to hard work, that was true. He may have been an excellent con artist, but he still had to earn his bread the old-fashioned way from time to time. But he also relished what downtime he and Archie were able to get. Douxie had a mind that liked to wander, and a great affinity for sleep. And he was still a growing boy on top of that. He needed his rest. Yet ever since they had come to live with Merlin, Douxie had hardly stopped moving, except to collapse into bed at any ungodly hour of the night, only to rise again with the sun a few hours later. It was beginning to take its toll on the young wizard’s health. He somehow looked more gaunt and malnourished here than he did in the gutters of Camelot, and his normally brilliant mind was a jumbled mess of task lists, potion ingredients, and whatever new spells Merlin was managing to teach him in between his frantic bursts of labor.

Archie intended to put an end to this nonsense. This just wasn’t like Douxie. Whatever was going on with his Familiar, he intended to suss it out and squash it like a bug. And so, the hunt had begun. He had been stalking his quarry since breakfast, and had yet to see him so much as pause to breathe. In just four hours, Douxie had gathered and prepared thirteen different varieties of herb for potion brewing, tidied and swept the study, memorized seven new spells, milked the Slorr, done the laundry, tidied and swept the study again, and now he was occupied in reorganizing the bookshelves (which he had already done just yesterday). Archie prowled in the shadows nearby, tail flicking back and forth as he watched for the opportunity to strike.

Douxie’s arms were full of heavy tomes, and he had a quill pen stuck between his teeth as he glanced between a roll of parchment on a nearby lectern and the half-empty bookshelf. He fumbled with the books for a moment, managing to slip one back into its proper place on the shelf before the other three went tumbling out of his arms and landed with a soft thud on the floor.

“Oh, fuzzbuckets,” Douxie groaned, taking the quill out of his mouth and crossing something off of the parchment. He set the pen down and knelt to gather up the fallen books. He wobbled a bit as he stood up, and had to brace himself against the bookshelf for a moment. Archie flexed his claws impatiently. Douxie shoved the other three books into place and checked his list again, crossing off a few more lines. He stopped for a moment, eyes darting between the parchment and the bookshelf once again, and his brow furrowed. He looked over at his Familiar, who immediately pretended he had been washing his face the entire time. “Archie, you haven’t seen Merlock’s Grimoire of First-Level Spellcasting, have you?”

“You left it in your quarters last night,” Archie replied, lifting his glasses with one paw so that he could wash around his eyes with the other. “Though why you were studying it is beyond me. You already know all of your first-level spells.”

“Fuzzbuckets,” Douxie said yet again, dragging his hand across his weary face. “I don’t suppose you’d go get it for me? I don’t want Master Merlin to miss it if he needs it.”

“What, and break my spine trying to lug it all the way back here? No thank you. This is your job, Douxie. You do it.” The boy shot Archie an irritated look that was only intensified by the evident exhaustion in his face. A lesser cat would have broken. But Archie had seen an opportunity here, and he intended to exploit it. He held his ground and stared back with blatant defiance. A moment later, Douxie heaved a sigh and shuffled out of the room, unaware that Archie had stood up to follow him the moment he turned away.

Douxie’s chambers were far less orderly than the study, which was rather impressive, considering they hadn’t been living there for very long. But the floor was already a mess of open spellbooks, hastily-scribbled notes, and various magical bits and bobs to study and observe at a future date. It was almost too easy for Archie to slink into the room at Douxie’s heels and conceal himself amongst the chaos. He crouched behind a stack of books, golden eyes fixed unblinkingly upon his target, waiting for the perfect moment. Douxie rifled around the mess on the floor for a moment, checked inside the writing desk he hardly ever used, then finally noticed the object of his search sitting innocently on the bed, half-covered by a fold of the blanket. Archie tucked his paws beneath him and coiled up like a spring as Douxie approached the bedside. The boy bent down to pick up the book, and that’s when the dragon attacked.

Launching himself into the air at full speed, Archie shifted into his larger reptilian form and slammed into Douxie’s back with his full weight. Weakened and unaware as he was, the young wizard toppled onto the bed with a startled yelp. There was a moment of confused flailing and scuffling, and for one terrifying heartbeat, Archie could feel the tension of defensive magic in the air, as Douxie’s powers flared instinctively. But it was gone a second later, as the boy managed to roll over and see his Familiar perched on his chest, grinning down at him smugly.

“Really, Arch?!” Douxie barked. “I could have killed you!”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Archie scoffed. “The worst you could do in this state would be to ruffle my fur.” He settled down on Douxie’s chest and began to knead.

“Arch, stop it. You’re being an ass.”

“And you are digging yourself into an early grave,” Archie shot back, never wavering in his kneading. “Do you know how many hours of sleep a boy your age needs?” Douxie opened his mouth to argue, but Archie cut him off. “Nine to eleven hours, on average. Do you know how much sleep you’ve been getting every night since you came here?” Once again, the boy tried to speak, but Archie wouldn’t hear it. “Four to six. You spend all day running around after Merlin, and even when he dismisses you, you won’t keep still, you just go hunting around for more work to do. Your head is so jammed up with magic incantations, it’s a wonder you even remember to breathe sometimes. You are killing yourself, Douxie. And as your Familiar, it is my duty to put an end to it. You are going to lie here in this bed until I say you can get up, and you are going to think of nothing related to Merlin or your apprenticeship while you do.”

“Archie!” Douxie protested.

“No arguing. Now keep still.”

“Archie, you don’t understand!” Douxie’s voice had shifted from annoyed to pleading. “I have to finish my chores. I have to study. I need to do a good job!” There was a moment’s silence as the cat regarded his boy, taking note of the desperation swimming in his sunken hazel eyes.

“...Why do you feel that way, Douxie?” he asked softly. “Why do you feel like you’re not allowed to rest?”

“...I....I don’t...” The young wizard fumbled for an answer, eyes darting around the room to avoid meeting Archie’s gaze.

“Hisirdoux,” he said gently, using a tone of voice that Douxie hadn’t heard from him since he was a small child. “Please talk to me.” Archie felt his boy give in beneath his paws as Douxie let out a long, tired sigh.

“...I don’t want to go back on the streets, Arch,” he whispered. “I don’t want to go back to hiding who I am.”

“Well, of course not. But what does that have to do with the late nights and the obsessive cleaning?”

“...I guess....I don’t want Merlin to regret taking me in. Living here in the castle, learning magic from a real Master Wizard, having a real home...It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. I don’t want to screw this up. But I do screw things up, all the time. I’ve mislabeled ingredients, spilled ink on one of Merlin’s books--you know, he won’t even let me practice real spells yet because even my magic is full of mistakes. I need to do better. If I can’t do this right, then....what good am I to him?” He paused and took a deep breath. “...I just want to be worth something to him.”

A long, heavy silence followed. Archie had stopped kneading and was staring sadly at Douxie, who looked uncomfortably close to tears after that admission. His poor boy, thrust out of his home and family when he was only eight for something he couldn’t control, rejected by the world, beaten down by poverty, and his only source of love was a little black cat searching for a purpose. And though Douxie put on a brave front, laughed in the face of misfortune, and did his best to carry himself with all the dignity of a true wizard, he was still just a child; a child who had suffered terribly from the unfairness of a cruel world, and was somehow convinced that it was his own fault.

“Douxie...” Archie began softly. “...I can’t speak for Merlin. I still don’t know what motivated him to rescue you from the knights that day. But I do know that, with as many mistakes as you make, you are good enough for me. I’ve met a great many humans in my time, Hisirdoux, but you were the only one I chose to be mine. And if you are good enough for a dragon-turned-Familiar, then you are certainly good enough for that crusty old windbag. He won’t turn you out simply for being human and making a few mistakes.” Archie laid his head down and tucked it beneath Douxie’s chin. “...I won’t let him.”

He felt the boy’s breath stutter and heard him swallow thickly. Two scarred, gentle hands came up around Archie and held him close. Douxie’s thumbs stroked absently across his Familiar’s fur as he spoke in a quivering whisper:

“Thanks, Arch.” Archie purred and pushed against Douxie’s chin, his paws resuming their methodical kneading against his chest. Another silence fell upon them, this time a warm and comfortable one. Douxie sniffled once or twice, but his hands were steady as they ran up and down Archie’s back. “...I really should finish organizing the books, though,” he murmured. “I left the study in such a mess.”

“Now, now, Hisirdoux.” Archie dug his claws into Douxie’s shirt--not enough to hurt, but enough to make his point. “You wouldn’t be cruel enough to turn away a poor, wretched cat that has come to rest upon you, would you?” He shrank back down into his feline form and squinted his golden eyes fondly.

“No, no, don’t look at me like that. Archie...!” Archie snuggled down against his boy and gave a contented purr that he knew could never be resisted. Douxie gave up with another sigh and closed his eyes in defeat. “Fine. Just for a little bit.”

*****

“Hisirdoux!”

Merlin Ambrosius had had many apprentices in the past, but none of them had ever mystified and bewildered him as much as the grubby lad he’d pulled off the streets two weeks ago. The boy was a whirlwind of energy and untempered magic, always hovering at Merlin’s side or bustling around the castle. The old wizard had even resorted to asking some of the castle servants to abandon a few of their chores, just so he would have something to keep the lad occupied and out of his rapidly thinning hair for a few hours. And now after all that, he had returned to his study after a long morning of attending to a very irate Arthur only to find half of his library strewn across the floor, and his newest apprentice nowhere to be seen.

With an exasperated sigh, Merlin magicked all of the books back into their rightful places (Why were they even out to begin with? Didn’t Hisirdoux reorganize them just yesterday?) and stormed out of the study, already preparing an extensive lecture on the dangers of carelessness and lack of focus for when he found his young ward. A brief scan of the nearby area for magical signatures told him that the boy was currently holed up in his chambers. That was a bit odd. Hisirdoux usually didn’t spend much time there. No matter. Merlin swept down the stairs and through the hallways with the great sense of purpose that only a Master Wizard can achieve, and burst into his pupil’s room without even bothering to knock.

He was immediately greeted by a blast of fire.

Fortunately, he was able to fling up a magical shield just in time to save himself from what would have been a very nasty burn, but to say that Merlin was displeased by this greeting would have been an understatement. He turned his furious gaze onto the culprit, who was hovering in midair and baring his fangs like a wild beast.

“Archibald, what is the meaning of--!”

“Shh!” The ungrateful little creature cut him off with a growl. “If you wake him, I swear I will end you.” Merlin looked past him to see Hisirdoux curled up on his bed, sound asleep.

“What in the name of all things magic is going on here?” Merlin hissed. “Why was my study left in complete disarray, and what is my apprentice doing lazing about in bed in the middle of the afternoon?!”

“Your apprentice,” Archie spat the words out like poison. “is a child. A child who has been working himself to the bone trying to please you. He has been dead on his feet for the last fifteen days, and I was only able to get him to rest through brute force and manipulation, two things which I would rather avoid using on my own Familiar when at all possible. We are grateful for your kindness, but I will not allow you to disturb him now, regardless of the state of your study!”

Archie had been prepared to drag the Master Wizard from the room by his hair if necessary, so he was rather surprised when Merlin reacted, not with anger, but genuine surprise.

“...Hisirdoux hasn’t been sleeping?” he queried softly.

“No,” Archie replied shortly, landing on the floor and staring up at Merlin disdainfully. “He hasn’t.”

“But why on earth not? I did tell the servants to provide him with a comfortable mattress.”

“The mattress isn’t the issue. Douxie believes that if he does not make himself useful at all times and do everything perfectly, he will be cast out of the castle.”

“Who put such madness into his head?” Merlin demanded. “Of course I expect him to earn his keep here, but I never told him to expend himself to the point of exhaustion. And as for perfection, if I had been looking for that, I certainly wouldn’t have gone searching for it in the gutters of Camelot.”

“...Then may I ask what exactly are your intentions regarding my Familiar?” Archie inquired, narrowing his gaze.

“I simply wish to help him, Archibald. Nothing more or less.” The cat opened his mouth to reply, but froze as Douxie gave a muffled grunt and shifted in his sleep. The wizard and the Familiar both silently regarded the boy for a moment. “...I suppose the life of a street urchin can dull one’s belief in basic human kindness,” Merlin sighed, a gentle look coming into his normally stern eyes. He looked back at Archie. “When he awakens, please tell him that I have decreed in no uncertain terms that he is in no danger of losing his home here.”

“I...” Archie fumbled for a response for a moment. “...Yes, of course.” Merlin gave him a curt nod, then looked back at Douxie. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he raised his hand and, with a soft pulse of green light, pulled the rumpled blanket across Douxie’s slumbering form. Then he left without another word, closing the door softly behind him. Archie sat where he was for a minute, staring at the closed door as though he could still see the wizard who had disappeared behind it. Then, shifting back into his cat form, he rejoined Douxie on the bed, curling up against the boy’s back.

Good enough, indeed, he thought. You are more than good enough, Hisirdoux.

#tales of arcadia #toa #wizards: tales of arcadia #wizards: toa #douxie #tales of arcadia archie #fanfiction #archie is a therapy cat #and douxie is a precious moppet #merlin is just a tired dad

36 notes · View notes

earth-ambassador-jim · 4 years

Text

A Bad Reaction: Chapter 4

Story Summary:

“Changelings call it “Gravesand”. Derived from the pulverized bones of fallen Gumm-Gumms, gravesand aids us changelings in shedding our human form and embracing our more trollish nature…“

Strickler is a little off in his calculations and the gravesand draws out an unexpected response from Jim. Hopefully he can figure out what is wrong and how to fix it before it is too late.

Fanfiction - AO3

~~~~

“What happened?” Jim asked weakly, even as he hugged his Mom back. He felt muddled and strange and his head was pounding. The last thing he remembered, he had been in the sewers with Strickler and Nomura. “I thought I was…”

It was at that moment that Jim looked up and saw his surroundings. His eyes widened. Strickler and Nomura were still present but in troll form. They weren’t in the sewers anymore. Judging by the sleek white walls they were in the Janus Order base.

“Why are we here? What are you doing here?”

He could feel his heartrate picking up. His mom shouldn’t be here. She wasn’t supposed to know about this part of his life.

“Jim…” She said softly, grip tightening on his shoulders.

Jim’s hands twitched and the sensation echoed twofold. Jim pulled back from her in surprise and bumped into the wall.

Or rather something bumped into the wall and he felt it. Now that he was paying attention there were strange sensations coming from behind him.

Something twitched it felt like his arm but it was coming from his back. He let out a yelp and spun around, then twisted his neck and caught sight of leathery blue membranes bordered by armor coming out of his back.

“Jim.”

He reached over his shoulder and grabbed one then let go of it just as quickly the moment he felt it both in his hand and the alien appendage. He attempted to take a step back, but his foot didn’t set down right and he fell over.

“What… What’s wrong with me?!” Jim demanded.

His heart was pounding now and he could feel the Amulet’s magic pulsing alongside it as the enchanted relic responded to his panic.

Something was incredibly wrong with his body. Or he wasn’t in his body. (His breath was coming too short and fast.) That was something that could happen, right? He thought hysterically as he stared at the clawed feet at the end of his legs.

He was vaguely aware of his Mom settling beside him. She was talking to him but she sounded far away.

He remembered the gravesand, now.

What had Strickler said?

Hadn’t he said something about changes? Something about them being permanent?

Was… was he some kind of troll human monster now?

He wrapped his arms around himself and felt the strange new limbs do so as well.

~~~~

Nomora and Strickler were half turned away, watching the door, as Barbara talked her son through his panic attack; trying to be respectful to the Trollhunter in his moment of weakness. It was generally what changelings did for each other in such an event. The changeling code had never allowed for much closeness, so deliberate ignorance was sometimes their greatest kindness.

Strickler highly doubted his own proximity would make Young Atlas feel any safer at this point. All he could really do was wait and trust that Barbara knew what to do.

Now that the immediate physical danger was past Strickler found his mind mauling over the implications and possibilities of this development. It was partially out of habit and partially to distract himself so he didn’t start eavesdropping.

The Trollhunter was half-changeling. That was an even bigger game changer than him being human.

Gunmar may have destroyed the Arcadia Janus Order, but worldwide there were still more changelings. They would be enraged and bitter over their esteemed leader’s betrayal.

Jim’s new status would offer them an in that they had never had before with the larger trollish community.

Strickler paused his thoughts stumbling over that a little. He grimaced.

That was, of course, assuming that the trolls were still willing to accept Jim after discovering his heritage. A human had been hard enough for them to deal with from what he heard and a changeling would have been intolerable…

But how would they deal with a half-breed?

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. There were too many variables right now. They needed to get Jim to adjust to himself before they could go any farther.

The first test was to see if Jim’s trainer… Blinky… could get over his prejudice to accept his student’s change. If he couldn’t Strickler highly doubted they could expect any more from the rest of trollkind.

“Strickler.”

Strickler blinked and came back to attention. Jim was no longer on the floor but rather standing rather awkwardly leaning half on his mother.

“Yes, Young Atlas?”

“What happened?” Jim rasped. There was a slight lisp to his voice. “I thought you said that gravesand was safe for humans. Why did it…”

He gestured stiffly at himself. There was a hint of accusation in his tone. Strickler bit back his instinctual response, reminding himself that Jim had the right to be upset.

“I’ll explain, but I think you’d best sit down first.”

Barbara helped him over to one of the chairs and Jim awkwardly flopped down on it. He flexed the clawed toes on his feet and flinched, before turning his attention back to Strickler.

“Do you remember what I said about the effects of gravesand?”

The boy frowned, an expression made fiercer looking by the short tusks he now sported.

“You said it was supposed to bring out my feral instincts. You also said something about changes…”

Strickler nodded. He wasn’t surprised Jim would focus on that statement.

“And do you remember what I said its effects on changelings are?”

“Not really,” He admitted. He cocked his head. “But what does that have to do with me?”

Strickler sighed.

“Far more than you think.”

~~~~

“So Dad was a changeling.” Jim seemed to be rather stuck on that particular fact.

“Yes, I have his file on the computer if you would like to look at it.” Fortunately it seemed that no one had got around to banning Strickler out of the computer system.

‘No, I…” Jim trailed off and tried to run his hand through his hair but ended up catching it on his horns.

There was a moment of silence before Jim looked up through his bangs.

“Did you know him?”

“Not personally,” Strickler said. He had met most changelings in the Order in some form or another but there was a far smaller circle that he truly knew.

“Okay.”

Jim was quiet again.

“You looked at his file though. Do… What…” Jim frowned. “What did his troll form look like?”

Strickler sighed and turned back to the computer.

“Here, let me just pull it up for you.”

“You don’t have to…”

“It will be a lot easier than playing telephone, Young Atlas. Your mom has already looked through it.”

Jim closed his mouth at that.

“Here you are. Take all the time you need.”

Jim awkwardly slid the chair across the floor. It seemed he was not quite ready to try walking again.

Strickler scrolled through his emails as Jim studied the file.

“I don’t look much like him,” He said finally. “Not like this anyway.”

“Of course you don’t,” Strickler said, mater-of-factly.

“Why not?” Jim asked with a frown.

“That is because you were conceived while he was in human form. Changelings shift from fully troll to fully human. Therefore you did not receive any of his troll “DNA”.” Strickler paused. “I say use that term rather loosely in this case as trolls do not have DNA in the way that humans do.”

“Then what…”

“Your troll traits are from Nomura and me.”

Jim’s head jerked up at that, eyes widening.

“How?”

“I believe I explained the spell to you. Because Nomura and I contributed are blood and stone respectively, the magic borrowed from our traits to create your form.”

“Oh.”

Jim looked down at himself with wide eyes, examining his hands and legs and twisting to look at his wings with new understanding appearing in his eyes.

“But what about the tail?” Jim asked, flexing it and immediately stiffening at the feedback.

“That would be from me. I used to have one,” Strickler said.

Nomura looked at him in surprise.

“It didn’t match my physiology after I was made a changeling so it was… removed.” It was just as well, he supposed. With how big it was it would have been a hindrance but…

But it had not been a pleasant experience. Even after all this time he occasionally still had phantom pains.

“You shouldn’t have any problems with it though,” Strickler continued, banishing past memories. “You seem to have come out fairly well balanced.”

He wondered if the amulet had played into that.

Jim’s tail curled up into his lap and he examined it hesitantly brows furrowed.

“So I guess I’m related to you guys now?”

Strickler opened his mouth and paused. He wasn’t wrong.

Nomura started cackling.

“I guess you are, Little Gynt,” She said a broad toothy grin on her face. “Didn’t expect you to go where Peer Gynt wouldn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll have to take you to watch the play sometime. It will make more sense that way. It’s been a few years since I last saw it anyway.”

“Ah.”

Jim smiled slightly at that and then frowned.

“I think I’d like to go home now,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. “How…” He paused a rather fearful expression crossing his face. “Can I shift back to human?”

“You should be able to,” Strickler said quickly. “It was your latent shifting magic that caused all this in the first place.”

“Huh. So how do I shift?”

“I’m not sure,” Strickler admitted. “It comes naturally to changelings once we’ve been bonded to our familiars but you’re a unique case.”

“Oh.” Jim frowned. “Would a gaggletack work?”

“A gaggletack?” Barbara echoed the unfamiliar word.

“Gaggletacks are what trolls call iron horseshoes. They can force a changeling to change form.”

“Horseshoes huh?”

Barbara had a bit of a strange expression; her nose wrinkling as her brows drew together.

Strickler’s attention was drawn away as Jim cleared his throat.

“So would one work?” He asked. “I mean ran around with one for a whole day and it didn’t do anything before.”

“It’s possible that it would now,” Strickler said, vaguely realizing he was starting to stray into his ‘teaching voice’. “But I would be rather hesitant to rely on that because gaggletacks burn changelings.”

“They what?!” Barbara exclaimed at the exact same time Jim’s head jerked up to stare at him in surprise.

“I suppose shouldn’t be surprised that your trainers never brought that up,” Strickler said scornfully.

“Maybe they didn’t know?” Jim offered.

“No. They most definitely did. It’s common knowledge.”

He almost went further but stopped himself. There were things the boy was not ready to hear about just yet, not today anyway. He’d been through enough.

“How about we get you home,” He said instead. “It will do you good to adjust to your new form before we push you any further physically. I can get you excused from school tomorrow so you will have more time. How does that sound?”

“…okay.”

The young Trollhunter rose awkwardly to his feet. The daylight armor clinked as he shifted his weight.

Strickler frowned.

“You might want to take that off,” He said.

Jim glanced down at himself and sighed. He tugged at the amulet. It didn’t budge.

“I’m too tense. The armor is responding to that.” His tone suggested something like this had happened before.

Strickler’s brows furrowed a little further. A memory surfaced of seeing Jim in the armor for the first time in the school. Was that why? It seemed an inconvenient design.

“I see.”

The four of them traveled in relative silence through the remains of the Janus Order. The elevator ride proved to be twice as awkward going up as it had been coming down. Nomura was glaring at the speaker as if she was contemplating putting a sword through it. Strickler wasn’t going to stop her if she tried. In fact he might have even been willing to lend her a knife.

At the cars they parted ways. Barbara and Jim returning to their house and Strickler and Nomura going to their respective apartments.

~~~~

“So… How are you doing?” Barbara asked carefully once they had gotten back into the house.

She was… Well she had no idea how to feel at this point -Aside from drained- Far too much had happened. Way too much for one day.

But she wasn’t the one who now had wings and horns and a tail.

Jim grimaced, leaning rather heavily on the wall as he glanced about the house.

“I’m… fine,” He said after a moment.

Barbara gave him a disbelieving look.

“Jim.”

His shoulders tensed slightly, his ears actually tilted down a little and the tip of his tail (and wasn’t that something that was going to take some getting used too.) twitched like an agitated cat’s.

“I don’t know. Okay?” He said, rather sharply. There was the hint of a growl in his voice, causing her to step back. He flinched again then his wings pulled close to his back. “I don’t know,” He repeated again a little more quietly, hanging his head.

Barbara hesitated and then carefully came up beside him. He glanced up at her and his lower lip trembled slightly. His face was strange, he had fangs and horns now, but the expression was familiar. She’d seen it before, after a hard day at school or when Jim had taken on a little too much for his young shoulders.

Barbara wrapped her arms around him, carefully avoiding the wings, and pulled him close. He didn’t resist, though he staggered slightly before readjusting his posture. He pressed his face into her neck and his shoulders jerked. The armor disappeared with a soft flash of blue. Barbara tightened her grip. She murmured soft meaningless things into his ears as he cried.

There would be time for long overdue discussions later.

~~~~

Author Notes:

Okay. I was supposed to end it at this point, but I think I'm going to do one more chapter to deal with the "long overdue conversations". Also I want to do a little more with Jim dealing with the changes that have been forced on him.

Also I continue to hold to the opinion that having armor that requires you to calm down to remove it is a very unhelpful design if you have panic attacks.

Hope you enjoy!

18 notes · View notes

ofthethousandblossomsfanclub · 4 years

Text

Member Introduction!! (This would have been posted sooner but SOMEBODY hit draft instead of post)

Cordelia Vanderbloom

Female, Arcadian Sidhe, Seelie, 26/46, 🌺

I’m the de-facto leader of this club due to having the most social standing and knowledge on Prince Tyrion Magnolia Aster Dianthus Camellia Vinca Bitterbloom of the Thousand Blossoms. I’m able to get our cause to a wider audience and show everyone just how wonderful our lovely Prince Tyrion Magnolia Aster Dianthus Camellia Vinca Bitterbloom of the Thousand Blossoms is! I’m very popular myself, and I was hoping to marry him before he wed.

Nadeen Martel

Female, Korred, Seelie, 32/45, 📚

I’m the infokeeper, I have every moment of Prince Tyrion Magnolia Aster Dianthus Camellia Vinca Bitterbloom of the Thousand Blossoms’ life from birth to curse at my fingertips. How did I get it? Passion. I was there back when Prince Tyrion Magnolia Aster Dianthus Camellia Vinca Bitterbloom of the Thousand Blossoms was at his prime. He was a god in my eyes.

Makenna Ó Flannagáin

Female, Clurichaun, Seelie, 26/32, 💰

I’m the club’s treasurer, I deal with the money we make from fanfiction and merch. I hear a lot about Prince Tyrion Magnolia Aster Dianthus Camellia Vinca Bitterbloom of the Thousand Blossoms from stories passed down by this club, and I’ve fallen in love with him.

Stacie Arkwright

Female, Nocker, Seelie, 24/26, ⚙

I create everything you’ve ever fucking seen that our club has. The freehold, the banners, the flyers, everything. I created ALL the shit. I’ve even created a chimera of Prince Tyrion Magnolia Aster Dianthus Camellia Vinca Bitterbloom of the Thousand Blossoms’ likeness. It’s... not perfect, but what the hell is?

Wendi Mullins

Female, Redcap, Seelie(?), 34/38, 💀

I’m gonna be honest I joined at first because I wanted to eat Prince Tyrion Magnolia Aster Dianthus Camellia Vinca Bitterbloom of the Thousand Blossoms because he looked like mochi or something but the fanclub really spoke to me on a personal level and made me realize how amazing he is. I beat up anyone that talks shit about him.

Hildred Ellington

Female, Troll, Seelie, 27/35, ⚔️

Ever since I heard of Prince Tyrion Magnolia Aster Dianthus Camellia Vinca Bitterbloom of the Thousand Blossoms’ horrible curse I made a promise that I would protect him with my life whenever he came back, and now this is my time. I will do anything I can to keep him safe and help him recover.

Abbi Byrd

Female, Piskey, Seelie, 23/30, 💌

I’m a world traveler, but I’m also very devoted! I find the greatest items for our lovely Prince Tyrion Magnolia Aster Dianthus Camellia Vinca Bitterbloom of the Thousand Blossoms in the world, and I spread his image as well! If you’ve gotten a flier before on how beautiful Prince Tyrion Magnolia Aster Dianthus Camellia Vinca Bitterbloom of the Thousand Blossoms is, that was probably from me! ~

Mariabella Marlowe

Female, Satyr, Seelie, 21/25, 🐐

I love Prince Tyrion Magnolia Aster Dianthus Camellia Vinca Bitterbloom of the Thousand Blossoms! I love him so so so so so so so so SOOOOOOO much!!! I would move the world for him I would break into Arcadia for him!!! <3 <3 <3 <3

Bea Izumi

Female, Selkie, Seelie, 19/19, 🌊

I’m the newest arrival to the group!! I’m a selkie, so I have to stay close to the shore- which is easy because we’re based in LA! Ah- anyway, I’m not really sure what my job is yet! I don’t think I need one?

There are more members than this, but we are the most active and the ones running this blog. We hope you all join our club <3

-Everyone

#introduction #Cordelia #Nadeen #Makenna #Stacie #Wendi #Hildred #Abbi #Mariabella #Bea #//ACTUALLY JUST IGNORE THE AGES I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE HOW OLD ANYONE IS

6 notes · View notes

koshehehe · 3 years

Text

—𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

" . . . her hands grazed the rough parchments full of her writings. . ."

Original Works:

Kairos | A Yulierian Tale (ONGOING) (Wattpad link)

Kairos : a time when conditions are right for the accomplishment of a crucial action: the opportune and decisive moment.

Kairos 'Kori' Jian is an unusual blue-eyed lady who lived a normal life in the countryside with her mother, little brother, and pet wolf-dog. A family of four that lived by Loke'on, the Harbor City, living a normal life in a small and beaten-up farmhouse. Despite how harsh life was to them, they lived happily. 'What could possibly go wrong?' was a question Kori had not stopped to think.

A mysterious fire erupted in the farmhouse and as soon as it started, her mother was lost in a fiery death. But why?

It had been two years after the fiery death of her mother. It seems as though her mother's death was no ordinary mystery when some questions have been answered during her search for her mother's murderer.

Unbeknownst to the lost Kori, she has fallen deeper than she expected into the land of people blessed by stars, gods, and the darkness that dwells in the unseen.

First Book of the Yulierian Tales!

An original work by koshehehe (koshe)

Fanfiction:

so ist es immer | Diluc Ragnvindr (ON HOLD) (tumblr link)

System Enter: Arcadia | Genshin Impact (wattpad link)

La Petite Mort | Osamu Dazai (wattpad link)

La Petite Mort | Osamu Dazai (tumblr link) ((PROLOGUES ONLY))

La Petite Mort | Osamu Dazai (ao3 link)

1 note · View note

mesdea · 6 years

Note

Dear Mesdea, I'm quite new to the QuiObi fandom. Do you have any recommendation regarding reading materials (comics & novels) which focus on both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan? Currently I'm reading the Jedi Apprentice series. Hope you have a nice day. Thanks in advance :)

Welcome to the fandom! I do hope you are made to feel welcome. I like to think we are a tight knit community. I have put out a few stories, but honestly, I don’t even faintly come close to those below.

Cannon

The Jedi Apprentice books are a good start. There are also a few comics, Star Wars: Qui-Gon & Obi-Wan - Last Stand on Old Mantel. This was a dark horse comic from back in 2000 and it is set about five years prior to the Naboo crisis there are 5 issues in the series.

There was also a two comic series called Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan: The Auroient Express. This one was from 2002. The plot is about a luxury cloud cruiser that has fallen out of control and is fated to crash over Yom Skot. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon must get aboard the runaway ship and regain control in less than two hours.

FanFiction

If you are looking for FanFiction QuiObi recs, I suggest taking a look at this list http://lovelyroseonthehillside.tumblr.com/post/145694874755/obi-wan-fic-recs-v-quiobi-edition. I can’t say there is one pick on @lovelyroseonthehillside list that I would disagree with.

The only additions I would make to that list would be:

Master’s Voice by Kat Bear

Rating: Explicit

Summary: A voice on the radio captures a lonely newcomer in town. This is a story about Ben Kennan, a drifter that was thrown out of his posh families house and wanders the country for a place to belong. He ends up in a small town with a job at the local mechanic’s shop. He no longer wishes to move on to the next town and is trying to put down roots when one night he hears the Irish brogue on the radio that sets his world on fire, Quilan Finn. Quilan is a tree hugging federal forest ranger that has an affinity for Tai Chi, woman and the local radio station. This is a very long piece of work, but well worth every second.

The Maverick by Obaewankenope

Rating: Explicit

Summary: On February 23rd, 2015 Obi-Wan Kenobi met Qui-Gon Jinn. Desire, want, need, and necessity unfortunately do not correspond to each other and Obi-Wan’s life is turned upside down when his past comes back to haunt him. Forced to confront things he had long-since buried, Obi-Wan may lose everything he holds dear because of a mistake he made six years ago. Qui-Gon Jinn has to decide if he is willing to walk down a path that will risk his very life for the sake of love. This is a coffee shop AU that the author turned into a crime thriller. Heed the warnings at the beginning, it does go a bit dark, but I still wait on baited breath for the sequel.

Beekeeping and Husbandry by Meggory

Rating: Mature

Summary: This is a story of what happened after Theed in a world where Qui-Gon Jinn survived. After waking up from a coma he must deal with a different life. There is little that goes Qui-Gon’s way, but he finally learns the truth of his Padawan and the lengths with which he went to save him. I just adore the world that Meggory built here and I think I’ve personally read this at least three times. The best way I describe this is Qui-Gon’s obsession with bees and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Academic Arcadia: A Symposium on Love by Merry_Amelie

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Academic Arcadia is a series of stories set in an alternate reality, in which Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are English professors at Luke University in Upstate New York. Their names here are Quinn Masterson and Ian Prentice, and we follow them from their meeting in “A Symposium on Love” through the present day and into the future. There be Hobbits, Star Wars and Love, oh my! This is a very long and established series that has been going on for many many years. I adore each installment that Merry brings to the series.

Letters to Qui-Gon Jinn by Flamethrower

Raiting: Mature

Summary: When Jedi Master Tahl is murdered, Qui-Gon Jinn leaves the Order, and his Padawan. Obi-Wan Kenobi isn’t about to let him go that easily. When Qui-Gon Jinn leaves the order, Obi-Wan begins to send him letters to keep their connection.

#quiobi #qui gon #obi wan #welcome to the fandom #fanfic rec

12 notes · View notes

luminifere · 4 months

Text

Fanfiction: "Kiss of the mermaid" Michael x Morgan

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Michael x Morgan

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "Once upon a time, in an era when the waves met the heavens and the stars danced in the watery depths, there were tales of enchanting beings - mermaids. It is said that they have the ability to steal a human heart with just a kiss. When her lips touch yours, you find yourself captivated by eternal love, from which there is no escape..."

Warnings: mature relationship

Content: ER, Romance, Fantasy, AU, Bathing|Washing, Bathroom 18+

Words: 8,065

#arcadia fallen #michael arcadia fallen #visual novel #fanfic #writing #fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3fic #morgan arcadia fallen #Arcadia Fallen fanfiction #MC/Michael (Arcadia Fallen)#Michael (Arcadia Fallen)

0 notes

notanotherlovepage · 6 years

Text

LiS fanfic

Hey guys! So, long story short, i did a fanfiction inspired on this post. Hope you guys like it!

MAXINE - 12 YEARS OLD

Today was particularly a sunny, beautiful day. Ninety degrees outside, midst August and every color seemed to be intensified. The leaves on the trees were greener, the sky was bluer and the butterflies shined with their brightest colors.

I resented my mom for having me put a long-sleeved shirt on, and i envied Chloe for her obviously lighter -and prettier- one. Besides, it was embarassing having two big spots of sweat covering my armpits. But i didn’t care. Not if it was my best friend in the whole world next to me. She wouldn’t judge me.

-Come on, Max! Hurry!- I heard Chloe shout. She was some solid 15 feets ahead of me. We were heading towards the big tree. That’s where we hid our time capsule. It was a centric, giant tree placed in the Arcadia Bay forest. It was our place. The place we told eachother every secret, gossip and deepest confessions. And now we were going to dig out the capsule we hid 5 years ago.

We were actually cheating; we promised ourselves we would only see it 10 years after the day we buried it. That would be at age eighteen. When we were eight years old, we decided to make our friendship last forever in the coolest way. We hid a bunch of letters, drawings and others stuff for us to see later on. That way we were forced to come back from wherever we were and join pirate forces to dig out the most awesome treasure ever. But we couldn’t help it. Neither of us remembered what we put in there and we were dying to know.

-This is so wrong but feels so right- i said chuckling, already catching up with Chloe.

-I know, right?! - She said, clearly excited, doing that adorable bouncing she does when she’s hyped up. Chloe was particularly... pretty today. Her long, blond hair was shinning, as if it belonged to some shampoo comercial, waving synchronized with the wind. She always grew these funny freckles all over her nose and cheeks every summer, which made her look like a model, and her blue eyes shined amazingly bright, reflecting the sunlight. Sometimes i didn’t know if it was jealousy i felt every time i looked at her, or just pure... admiration. Whatever it was, it always felt just right.

-Okay, we’re here,- Chloe said- let’s just cut the crap and see whatever in the world is there.

I realized i was stupidly nervous by the whole thing. My heart was rapidly pounding in my chest and my hands were sweating, but i didn’t care. It was the good kind of nervous.

-I’m actually really nervous- Chloe said, as if she had read my mind.

-Dude, me too- I responded, with an akward laugh.

-Let’s do this- Chloe picked the shovels next to her and handed me one- Now, you lazy ass, show me watcha’ got.

MAXINE - 18 YEARS OLD

-Okay...-I breathed out- let’s do this.

I was sitting in my dorm bed at Blackwell, looking at a photo I had forgotten it even existed. Actually, i had deleted the entire day in which the photo was taken from my brain, although it was kind of a “big deal”. It was the day Chloe and i buried the time-capsule.

It had been two weeks since Chloe’s funeral. Jefferson was in jail, Nathan was in a psychiatric hospital, with a restriction order to keep his asshole father away from him, and Kate and Victoria were alive. Everything had fallen into place. Every piece of this life puzzle was starting to click again.

Except for me.

This wasn’t like any cringy, sugarcoated movie i had ever watched before. This wasn’t some tragic novel about life being a bitch. This wasn’t like anything i had ever heard or seen. This was so much worse.

The first three days i was in denial. I never actually stopped to think Chloe’s death was forever. I was like a zombie, or in autopilot mode. I even smiled an laughed. I just couldn’t accept it.

But one day i went to the Two Whales, and found myself having my pancakes all alone, and i didn’t see Joyce there because from what David told me, she couldn’t get out of bed, and there was barely any client there because the fucking place smelled like tragedy and pain. And then it hit me.

Chloe is dead.

I never knew it was possible to feel this kind of pain and not die. Or have a heart attack. Or just for nothing to occur. I just felt this horrible sensation, all the goddamn time, but nothing else seemed to happen. There was just pain and the only thing i had left to do was feel it.

I mean, pain is supposed to be some kind of body mechanism to warn you about danger. If you accidentally fall from a tree and break your arm or cut your leg your body makes you feel pain, so you know something is not right with you and you should take care of it. But suddenly your best friend and soulmate in the fucking world dies and you feel this unbearable pain in your chest, way worse than a fucking broken arm, and you would give anything for that so called god everyone assures it exists to just break every single bone in your body if it meant not feeling this, and everything feels so wrong and you feel like you are going to die all the time but the worst part is you don’t, and you are expected to just get over it? How can this kind of pain not mean im in danger? That i’m not going to just stop breathing anytime? How can physical pain mean so much while emotional pain just means you suffered a stupid trauma that you can get through? That nothing is actually wrong? That the love of your life died but you will be ‘just fine’? How can people say that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?

Because to me, what doesn’t kill you makes you wish it fucking did.

Sitting at the dinner, thinking all of this in one goddamn second, as if a brainstorm had just hit my head, made me realize; i was not living in a world without Chloe. Either both of us lived here... or both of us went up there.

I suddenly understood Kate so much more once i started planning it. See, if you don’t live it, you don’t get it, it’s as simple as that. You just can’t understand what depression is like if you never went through it, no matter how hard you try. That’s what happened to me on the rooftop with Kate. As much as i tried, i was just not able to understand how could people consider taking their own lives. Isn’t there always hope? Always someone who loves you? Always something to live for?

Thing is, sometimes, there’s not.

It just hit me like a train. I didn’t even care. I couldn’t. It would destroy my parents, Kate, Warren, even Joyce, but i didn’t have the energy to give a fuck. I was so hopeless. Everything was so pointless. I really don’t know if it was depression i was suffering, but it sure as hell felt like it.

I had decided to binge on the pills the doctor gave me for Post Traumatic Disorder. I heard they were pretty strong, so i was pretty confident they would do the job. But then i saw the box Joyce gave me at the Two Whales, resting in the corner of my room; it was Chloe’s box, with every single memory she had ever owned. Pictures, letters, postcards, everything. I had put it away to rot; i just couldn’t look at it without falling into pieces. But at that moment, i figured i might as well see what was in there; i wanted my last memories to relive those of the love of my life.

I don’t remember crying like i did then in a long time, if not ever. I was pretty sure i was starting to dehidratate, and at some point, i even thought i was going to faint. There was that awful drawing i sent her when she had chickenpox. There was a silly love letter i remember her neighbour wrote her when we were ten years old. Chloe never liked him and after five letters like that with no response, he finally got the hint and never spoke to her again. But what shattered my heart the most was this pink sea shell. I found it on a beach in Playa del Carmen; my parents and i took a cruise for two weeks and i promised Chloe i would collect one for each day we spent apart, so she knew i wouldn’t forget her. All of them eventually broke into pieces except for this one. I painted it with a cheap pink nail polish my mom used to own and gave it to her. We were seven years old. I never knew she would keep it to this day, it seemed so redundant and useless to me, but so meaningful to her...

I was not sure how much more i could take, but then, i found the photo. The time-capsule photo.

The memories suddenly hit me as a punch in the face. It was as if some kind of hipnosis suddenly unleashed from that picture to free the memories that had been so long repressed. I remember that our parents took us on a silly journey through the Arcadia Bay forest. It lasted 5 days. My mom absolutely hated camping in the ‘wilds’, but my father and William did a great job calming her down. One week earlier, Chloe and i decided to secretly bury a time capsule in which we hid some stuff to open up in ten years, which would ironically be this year, at age eighteen. But we opened it five years before, us being twelve, because we couldn’t help ourselves. We opened it two months before William passed away.. It was the last good moment we had until everything started falling apart for Chloe.

My parents took a picture Chloe and me in our pirate costumes, right before we went for the giant tree and hid the capsule. I don’t really remember what we hid in it, but it was probably silly. I’m actually glad we opened it up earlier. Today, it would only be some silly kid stuff.

I looked at the picture with a nostalgic, genuine smile, without realising i was crying again until some droplets hit the picture. But suddenly, one droplet fell on the wrong -or right?- place. And as i looked, i stood in shock.

-What... the hell?- i exclaimed. I frowned my eyebrows and rubbed my eyes to get a better view of the picture, and then, i saw it. It felt as if i was suddenly stang by a paralising bug. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t believe what i was seeing. It just felt as if the nightmare would never stop. I started sobbing and yelling. I was pulling my hair without realizing it. I didn’t give a crap of all the fuzz i was making. In the picture, right behind us, was a translucent doe, staring right at the camera, with a tiny beautiful blue butterfly resting in his snout.

After some minutes of pure desesperation and chaos, i decided to calm myself down. I was getting nowhere being like this. Fucking hell, a few minutes ago i was all ready to kill myself. What was going on with me? Was i hallucinating? Had i finally lost it? Was i officially crazy?

-Okay, Max. Calm the fuck down- I said out loud- Let’s think, what the hell does this mean?

As if my voice was like a ridiculous lullaby, i did calm down. I took a few breaths, and started to think.

First of all, if anything, this could be good news. If shit like this keeps happening after Chloe died, could this mean the universe was still not content with the outcome of things? Could this mean that life, or god, or what-fucking-ever did not want Chloe to die? Was Chloe not supposed to die?

A feeling i had not felt in two weeks, but seemed like forever, started growing in my chest. I was feeling hope. Hope that my best friend could maybe, just maybe, be brought back. Hope that i would be able to kiss my lover again. Hope that maybe, life was not as miserable as it seemed.

Calm down, Maxine. I thought to myself. This is still not clicking.

I spent some good hour going through all of it. Thinking of everything i could have missed. Every detail, every second i spent with Chloe. Every goddamn tragedy of that unholy week. What was i taking for granted? What was the universe trying to tell me? Was it even trying to tell me something? Was life just... weird?

And then it clicked. The puzzle clicked. That fucking piece found it’s place in all of this drama and everything suddenly made sense. All this time, i made everything revolve around me. It seems fair, as i am the one with a crazy fucking superpower. But what if it’s... not? What if it’s not about me? I may be one in a million, being able to control the fucking time, but the universe is sure as hell not only about my life, so... what if i am missing a detail because im not supposed to know that detail? What if it’s not my life i should change, but someone elses? What if i have been searching for the answer in that horrible week when in fact it came from... before?

What if it’s not Chloe that’s supposed to die? What if... it’s Rachel that’s supposed to live?

I realised i had been starring at the mirror with the picture in my hands all of the time i spent thinking. I almost saw the switch in my eyes as i finally made the decision; i would try to make things right one last time. After all, i had nothing left to lose.

I focused on the picture, sitting in my bed, as all the familiar but still weird-as-hell feelings started to hit once again; the pounding in my head, the blurr in my eyes, the sensation of passing out, the world menacing to tremble... and just like that, i was back in the forest.

MAXINE - 8 YEARS OLD

The first thing i did was to look for the doe and the butterfly. As i expected, they were not there. Being 12 years old at Chloe’s house, back when i tried to save William, was weird enough, but being eight felt so... wrong. I was an eighteen years old in the body of a little girl. I could actually feel the physical change; my hands and feet felt tinier, my skin felt softer, and it seemed to me that i was on my knees when i looked around, when in fact, i was just shorter.

-Max, sweetie, are you okay?- my mom asked. As there was no response, she continued- Come here baby, you look pale. Do you want some chocolate?- She turned to look at my father- What did i tell you, Ryan? This was such a bad idea, we shouldn’t have come.

-Wait, mommy! I’m okay!- I cringed at how high-pitched my voice was, but managed to fake a smile.

-Are you sure, baby?- Dad asked.

-Of course she’s okay! She’s a pirate! Right, Max?- I heard a little girl’s voice say. I knew exactly who that voice was from, but i needed to really see it. I just couldn’t start to even comprehend how lucky i was. To have the ability to see what i shouldn’t be seeing. To defy the universe, just like that. To be able to appreciate the existence of the love of my life as many times as i wanted to. To love her and be able to tell her again and again, without the fear of time running out. Because time meant nothing to me. I owned time, and it made me feel incredibly alive. It was so wrong but so right. And when i finally turned around to see her, i realized life was just fucking incredible for creating such amazing and lovable beings like her, no matter how temporary they were.

-Chloe!- I shouted, and ran to her embrace- You are my best friend, did you know that?

-Of course i do! We will rule the world with our swords and patches, right, Dad?!

-Sure thing darling. I believe in you two- William said with a soothing voice. Only then did i realize how much i had missed him. But i needed to calm my nostalgic self down. I had to start acting like an eight year old, and they were never really that great at showing mature feelings. Besides, it would be just plain weird to hug William out of the blue. Sadly, no one there but me knew how little time had he left- Okay girls, ready for the walk?- He said with a playful smile, letting go a tiny wink from his left eye. I understood this was the sign Chloe, William and i had agreed on to go bury the time-capsule- Everything ready?

-Yes dad!- Chloe shouted- Let me just get my backpack- She said, while turning back to head the tents.

-Wait! i need to go get something too- I jumped. I saw Chloe turning around to face us once again, this time with a frown. I guess we agreed at some time that she would get the capsule while i kept the adults busy- It will be just a second.

-Okay...- Chloe replied.

-What would you two be up to...- Joyce whispered suspiciously, with a grin on her face, shaking her head left and right. I followed Chloe to the tent and entered with her.

-Please tell me you brought some paper and crayons- I said nervously. My heart started to accelerate as my brain finally focused on my plan.

-Yeah... i think so. Why?- she asked, half curious, half worried.

-I just forgot something i wanted to draw.

-Okay, let me check- Chloe said, revolving her backpack, and then taking out what i had requested- You are being kind of weird.

-Don’t worry, it’s just a second- I replied- No peeking!- I said, smiling at her while hiding my paper so she couldn’t see. This time, the smile was genuine. I could never fake-smile that adorable face of hers, even if i tried.

And then she was the one to smile. A wide, playful smile, covered childishly by her tiny hands, followed by a girly, amazingly cute chuckle.

Suddenly, i was just overwhelmed by this relaxing but exciting feeling, as i started drawing my message to the future Max, in the hope that this time, she would remember it and be able to fix things from the very start. I just kind of knew that this time, things would turn out to be alright.

MAXINE - 12 YEARS OLD

-Oh my god, this is so cringy, i really dont know how much more i can take- I said, tears of laughter falling from my eyes.

-Dude, i know, i think i’m gonna throw up anytime now- Chloe responded, with her cheeks filled with an intense red, grabbing her tummy and gasping for air, trying to regain control of herself.

We had spent hours now checking everything out. We found two chocolate cookies that smelled awful, two drawings that looked exactly the same -probably both of us agreed to draw the same scenario- of Chloe and me dressed as pirates while navigating the sea, two coins, two bracelets, a pink one and a blue one, and so on. We also found letters we wrote to eachother, barely legibles, about how much we loved eachother and that how we would be the best pirate friends in the whole world, which made us gag on the outside but smile warmly on the inside. There were only two more letters to read, each one with our names respectively signed on them. We understood they were letters we wrote to our future selves. I picked them both and read them to myself.

-How about mine? What did I write?- Chloe asked, excited.

-You were really funny- I responded with a tiny chuckle. It said, written with a blue crayon; ‘Dear Chloe, if you are not dressed up as a pirate right now, and Max is right next to you, tell her to punch you. Love, Chloe’. It was just so incredible to know Chloe was, is and would always be this funny and sassy person. But the best of all, was knowing that this person would always be my best friend in the world, and i was gonna be hers. I handed it to her, and when she read it, she started to laugh like crazy. Joining her laugh, i picked my letter, and gave it a quick, uninterested look. But that was all it took to send a chill down my spine- Mine was so serious...- I let out, failing to keep the thought to myself.

-Well, yeah, that’s you- Chloe reasoned, when i lended it to her and she saw it, not giving it its spooky credit- Serious and genuine- She smiled.

-Yeah, i guess- I said, but was left more nervous and anxious than i was willing to admit.

-Okay, mom is totally gonna kill us- Chloe suddenly exclaimed, zonning me out from my thoughts- We told her we would be there by five! Its half past six! Shit, let’s hurry- She said, getting up to her feet and starting to pack our things.

I followed her lead and helped myself up with my hands on the ground, to start helping her pick up the stuff. Once we were finished, i decided to take one last look at my letter, in the hope that it wouldn’t seem so creepy once i re-checked it.

It was the drawing of a girl, apparently older than us, with long, blond hair, seemingly waving with a fictional wind. At first it thought it was just a drawing of Chloe, but her eyes were green, and she was not dressed like Chloe at all. She had a red flannel, a pair of teared up jeans and some black boots. Besides, Chloe never got her ears pierced, and this girl had a blue feather hanging from one of hers. I found it strange how my eight year old self could draw such a realistic girl. I was never that good with crayons.

But what made me skip a heart beat was what it said below the girl. It was a simple sentence in capitals but had enough impact on me. It said ‘SAVE HER’.

#lis #lis bts #lis 2 #lis before the storm #life is strange 2 #life is strange #life is strange bts #life is strange before the storm #chloe price #max caulfield #amberprice #pricefield #rachel amber #nathan prescott #Kate marsh #victoria chase #Mark Jefferson #frank bowers #warren graham

15 notes · View notes

ao3feed-voltronlegendarydefender · 6 years

Text

A World Entirely Our Own

read it on the AO3 at http://archiveofourown.org/works/13803189

by the_real_Karaage

“For in dreams, we enter a world that is entirely our own.”

Keith has always loved books. He had always lost himself in the stories and characters. Books were nice, never left and always comforted him. Like a security blanket, he always had a worn paperback. When things got too much in his life, he always lost himself in the pages. When he stumbled onto a book series at the same book shop he worked at, he never thought he would lose himself so much in the pages.

Never felt so safe and comfortable, like the story and characters wrapped their warmth around him and he could finally breath. His shitty existence mattered. He didn’t realize how far he had fallen into the rabbit hole until he woke up and found himself in Arcadia.

Written for Luna_Vulpes contest and based on their “The Rose Queen” original series and fanfiction “Steam”.

Words: 2477, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender, The Rose Queen Series-Fandom

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: M/M

Characters: Pidge | Katie Holt

Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Matt Holt/Shiro, Keith (Voltron)/Original Male Character(s), Keith/Kai

Additional Tags: The Rose Queen Series, Based off of Steam, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, keith works in a bookstore, Keith Is A Little Shit, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt is Savage, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Smut, Anal Sex, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fantasy, Magic, Magic Users, Alice in Wonderland References, Inspired by Alice in Wonderland, Mating, demi-humans, Academy, Magic School, Clans, Oh shit moments, Confusion, Angst, Dream Sequences, sucked into a book, Keith (Voltron) Needs a Hug, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Harry Potter References, Explicit Language, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Sexual Humor, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Homelessness, Gay Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Korean Keith (Voltron)

read it on the AO3 at http://archiveofourown.org/works/13803189

#ao3feed #fanfic #voltron #voltron: legendary defender #ao3feed-voltronlegendarydefender

1 note · View note

ghostboyconceps · 7 years

Text

Fic, Clockwork

I haven’t been putting out much Danny Phantom fanfiction lately, what with the most stressful semester of my life coming to a close, but now I’m on vacation and get to do some writing. Woo!

Anyways, @danny-phangirl reached out to me with an absolutely amazing idea and requested that I write a fic for it. It was an amazing idea and I couldn’t say no.

The basic boiled down idea is this: This is a Danny Phantom/Doctor Who crossover and gives Clockwork a backstory. I really hope you enjoy reading this nearly as much as I did writing it. Story under the cut. 1,645 words. There is a death scene.

“Clockwork, can I ask you something personal?”

“Danny, at this point I doubt anything you ask would bother me,”

“Were you created as a ghost or like, did you die? I get if it’s too personal I’m just kinda curious,”

All of time and space. Right at his fingertips. This was madness. This was chaos. He didn’t dabble in chaos, but something had to be stopped. Something had to be done. Something was coming. Where and when he did not know, but time had to be preserved.

He pulled the switch. The fresh TARDIS jumped and leaped.

“There we go, girl. There we go. Let’s find the light,” Clockwork said, patting the console.

The doctor pounded the console.

“Oh, doctor what is it now?” Jamie asked. “Can’t we go one day without a problem?”

“It would appear not, Jamie,” the doctor said, rubbing his chin. “I’m going to have to make a landing,”

A familiar horrible grinding noise came from the center console. They checked the monitor.

“Now doctor, where is that?” Jamie asked, looking at the tiny screen mounted on the ceiling.

“Well, let me see. It would appear to be Earth, North America, possibly the early twenty first century,”

A knock came on the TARDIS door. The doctor hesitantly flipped the switch and the white doors flew open.

A middle aged man with short brown hair about the same average size as the bowl haired time lord dressed in a casual business suit walked in.“I would know that horrible noise anywhere. Now which face is this?”

“Clockwork! Now this is a surprise! Oh, it is good to see you!” the doctor cried, shaking the man’s hand.

They ended up sitting in the grass outside in the generic American public park, just talking for once. Nothing of importance seemed to be happening. Jamie, being the easily bored human he was, walked around the park.

“What brings you here?” the doctor asked of his friend.

“Oh, same as always. Looking for the light. Trying to stop the time-stream from changing. Though I don’t suppose I have to ask what brings you anywhere,”

The doctor smiled. “So, is there anything unusual about this place?”

Clockwork smiled. “Just tales of floating green people and ghosts, but I’m going to have to ask you to not intervene,”

“Oh, I’ll just come back later,”

“You probably will,”

So many years passed. How did any of them keep track of how old they were? Sometimes he wondered why the doctor counted his own age in Earth years. There weren’t many other rouge time lords out there. The master was the madman. The Rani was the scientist. The doctor, the rule breaker.

Clockwork was the searcher. The observer.

He traveled through countless planets and times, never intervening, obsessively searching for the time he had to. The time he saw in the tear. He had a vision when he looked into the schism. He knew it to be true. It had to be true. It was so incredibly real. He could stop it. It didn’t have to be a fixed point in time if he moved quickly enough. He had to find it.

He grew old looking. He regenerated. He got caught in the crossfire in a human war. He regenerated. He was suffocated by poisonous gas by some kind of crab person. He regenerated.

He found the master. Old and jaded with a young face.

“Whatever you’re doing you need to stop it,” he said.

“Aren’t you the one that doesn’t intervene?”

“Not when there is a paradox machine involved. Not when a TARDIS is being cannibalized,”

“You haven’t had it yet have you? Go on, Clockwork. Go find the light. See if you can stop me,”

For once Clockwork listened to the madman’s suggestion. He ran.

He was tricked. He made it back to his TARDIS. Human beings truly were puzzling creatures. As he regenerated he began to realize why the other runaways seemed to fascinated with them.

The doctor’s redheaded human was sleeping in the back. Clockwork ran his hand along the console of the old beat up TARDIS.

“So,” the doctor said, “You’re ginger now. That’s quite a development,”

Clockwork watched the man in the cricket gear twiddle with wires.

“And you’re blonde now. I thought you said you’d never go that way. You look a lot younger now,”

“Well, I figured it was time for a change. No more middle aged bones, try a new hair color, and wear some lighter clothes, you know how it goes,”

Clockwork ran his hand through his new hair and fixed his jacket. “Yes, I suppose you are right,”

“So tell me, what is it like? I have always wondered and no one ever explains anything properly in school, now do they?”

“I’m still getting used to it, honestly. I can see almost anything I want, but the light is still hidden from me doctor. There is something coming. Something that affects both of us. And frankly, I think you meeting other versions of yourself is not helping one bit,”

“You sound so much angrier with an American accent. And you know that was hardly my fault. Aha! There we go. Well, I must be off. Always a wonderful time seeing you,”

“Yeah, I guess it is,”

Every day blended into the next. There was a storm brewing. He could see so much. The light eluded him. When had his hair gone grey again? How many worlds and times had he been to and which ones had he just looked for?

It was time for constancy. It was time to go back home.

He was welcomed back without question. He regenerated as a redhead again and everyone held him in high esteem. The council called him a hero and asked him for advice.

Then war began brewing.

Young Gallifreyans died alongside old ones. They were shot down by ruthless killing machines that felt nothing but hate and knew nothing but war. Clockwork felt the light was coming. The time was coming to intervene.

The doctor himself joined the fray. The master returned home, and the Rani began using her experiments for the war. All of the rouge time lords returned home, and they came to fight.

The man who had never intervened but only watched became capable of more than he had ever thought or dared to imagine. He learned to shoot. He learned to fly a warship. He learned to fight alongside his comrades. The one who had observed time became a soldier.

He searched through time in his mind at every moment, looking for the light, looking for it. It was coming. He knew it, but he was too afraid to alter time to stop it.

The master and the doctor manipulated time like a tool. Clockwork still refused to do this. There were some things that needed to be stopped, but time had rules.

The doctor fought alongside his all-knowing friend in countless battles. In his final moments, it was obvious that the doctor should have been stopped, but in the moment, in every moment, the rules were sacred.

He forgot to cut his long scraggly red hair and began wearing it back. He learned to not feel when he shot. The doctor claimed he would never go by that name anymore, but clockwork knew better.

He was shot once and blasted a troop of daleks with his regeneration fire. He came back taller. Meaner. Stronger. He still let his hair grow long in his frantic new lifestyle and continued fighting.

The doctor stopped talking to him. He began doing more dangerous things.

Arcadia has fallen.

The council calls the heroes to themselves and ask for advice. Clockwork looks. He stops in his tracks.

The moment.

He tears from the war room, grabbing his gun as he goes.

Stupid, stupid time lord. Stupid. You could have stopped this. You needed to intervene. A TARDIS. Get to a TARDIS. This doesn’t have to become a fixed moment. Run you idiot. RUN!

He stumbled over his own feet, blasting daleks as he ran, not bothering to help the innocent families that yelled for help. They wouldn’t question a red haired time lord’s motives. They knew everything after all.

Everything apparently, except this.

His red sweaty hair became untied as he ran. He had to get there. He could stop the doctor. He could save the time-stream. Gallefrey didn’t have to die. It didn’t have to be trapped. His best friend didn’t have to stay alone. Surely death was better than living in that kind of grief and loneliness.

The clairvoyant time lord didn’t think about or notice the peice of scrap metal jutting out of the dead dalek he was running past.

He fell, dropping his gun in shock. A green surge of electricity and plasma hit his left eye. Who shot it? Panicked ally or hate infused foe? There was no knowing, and it didn’t matter anymore.

Clockwork struggled to breathe and lay wheezing on the ground clutching his left eye. He wasn’t regenerating. Why wasn’t he regenerating? The beam was affecting his central nervous system. Movement became nearly impossible. His lungs struggled to work. Why wasn’t he regenerating?

Wait. How many times had he regenerated? He had lost count. Had he really just thrown away the final one?

You just watched. You just observed, waiting for the right time. Why didn’t you break the rules? Stupid time lord. Stupid red head. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The last thing he saw was that light. The light of the doctors.

“I think, Danny, that I died, though who or what I was, I cannot remember. No, I cannot remember,”

“Well that sucks,”

A flash went through his mind. He smiled through his confusion.

“Yes, yes it does. I do remember a light though. I’m not sure what else to tell you,”

#danny phantom #doctor who #clockwork #fanfiction #crossover #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #oh look it's mine

56 notes · View notes