#Never know when a Ghost is gonna remove all sound! Still gotta communicate!

[bet-on-me-13]

Cass joins Team Phantom

So, we all know how Cass escaped her terrible dad at the age of 8 right? And how she is adopted by Batman at the age of 16-17 right? Well, what happened in between that time?

Cass has been on the run for Years now. She is 13, and at this point she has been on the run for nearly half of her entire life. So it's really no wonder that when she finally got to a relatively safe place after weeks of little food, little rest, and constant attacks by her pursuers, she accidentally fell asleep.

She woke up in a nice comfy bed, in a room that looked like an Astronomy Geek's dream. Once the people who found her noticed she was awake, they explained what had happened.

Their son, a boy named Danny, had found her passed out in their Shed the previous day while cleaning up. He had quickly brought her in and offered his Room so she could rest comfortably.

Cass doesn't really trust them, and tries to run more than once, but her weeks of constant exhaustion have finally caught up with her and she is stuck staying with them until she is fit to leave.

And unfortunately for her, the Fentons are very Endearing.

By the time she is healthy enough to leave, she genuinely wants to stay. So they unofficially adopt her, letting her stay in their house and sharing a room with Jazz (Danny did kind of need his room back, and Jazz was a good sister like that)

She ends up going to the same school as Danny and ends up befriending both of his friends, Tucker and Sam.

The day of the Accident, Cass is right there alongside Tucker and Sam as the Portal kills Danny.

After the Accident, she is a great help in teaching him some calming routines and meditation techniques so he can get a handle on his Powers much easier.

They also find out that standing in front of a Portal as it rips reality apart is just as bad as being inside of it. They all end up extremely liminal and get Powers. Tucker has Technomancy, Sam has Plant Powers, and Cass gets Shadow Manipulation (or whatever you think fits her)

She is having the best time of her life, but unfortunately it can't last forever.

About 2 years after the Accident, the GIW get a lucky shot on Danny. They were using one of the inventions the Fenton's had made before the Reveal (which was a good one) one that made Ghost Powers weaker for easier capture. While it didn't hurt Danny too much, it did weaken him enough that he flickered into his Human Form for just long enough for the GIW Agents to see him.

Now with Danny's identity exposed, the GIW could track down the Identities of the Humans who had been helping him all this time, aka, Tucker, Sam, and Cass.

During a Raid on Fenton Works, they all got seperated somehow.

Danny got injured protecting the Team, and had to be rushed to the Ghost Zone by Jazz, a stray shot from the GIW blowing up the Portal behind them. They ended up in the Far Frozen, to get Danny fixed up.

Tucker was arrested and sent to prison for a little while before a glitch in his cells Security System allowed him an opening to use his Powers to escape.

Sam was chased out of the Town by the GIW and ended up in the Forest nearby. She had to use her Powers to run away, disappearing too deep into the Woods for the GIW to follow.

Cass managed to sneak out, and ended up trying to save Tucker on his way to prison. She failed though, and the GIW chased her all the way to New Jersey before loosing her trail.

This is how she ended up in Gotham, and got adopted by Bruce Wayne. But she would never forget her first Family, and would try for years to see if she could find where they ended up.

Potential Part 2? Maybe, I have some ideas...

What do you think?

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Survivor Blues

SIMILAR SCARS : TOMMY’S POV

A/N: Hi friends! I hope you’re all having a great weekend and doing well. First of all, I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who has read and commented on this story thus far - your support means the world to me! Secondly, I am so darn sorry that this story has taken such a long break. It was completely unintentional and in no way indicative of how excited I am to be writing it. That being said, it is officially back in action effective immediately, and I am pumped to share this part of it. I really enjoyed getting inside Tommy’s head, so I hope you like it, too. This is the second interlude within the main story of Survivor Blues, and should be read between Part Three & Part Four. 

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: language, character death, loss, grief, trauma, PLOT SPOILERS FOR TLOU, feel free to message me if you have questions  

Summary: When you mention that you recently lost your nephew, Tommy understands all too well what you’re going through. 

On the morning that he was scheduled to meet you at the stables to take you out on your first trail sweep, Tommy had the alarm clock beat by nearly an hour. 

Knew I wasn’t gonna need it when I set it. 

Right arm bent with that hand stuffed under his pillow, he stared up at the ceiling as the bedroom slowly filled with light. His eyes followed the spidery line of a crack he’d been meaning to repair - and that Maria had been jokingly threatening to hire a professional for. 

“I’m sure your brother wouldn’t mind taking care of it,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye and a playful smirk pulling at her lips. 

“I’ll get to it this weekend, woman,” he grumbled back through a grin, kissing the corner of her mouth. 

That had been three weekends ago, the crack lengthening by a few millimeters since then. Shit, I really have to do something about that ‘fore she does get Joel over here. I’d never hear the end of it. From either of ‘em. 

There was no shortage of small emergencies or other things around Jackson that took priority though, and there were still only twenty four hours in a day, so Tommy knew that Maria understood when smaller issues slid under the radar. She was equally busy and constantly being pulled in different directions herself, the responsibilities of running a town stretching endless just like the crack above their heads. But she pulls it off. We pull it off together. 

Tilting his chin, he looked down through his lashes at his wife, a warm surge of affection, appreciation and pride swirling in his chest. I love this woman with everything I got. In sleep, she had rolled onto her side, shifting close enough for Tommy to loop his left arm loosely around her shoulders, one of hers thrown over his middle. There were only a few minutes left before the alarm was set to sound, but he still tried not to wake her as his fingertips ghosted along the skin of her bicep. Gotta rest when we can. 

Like everyone that had survived as long as they had, they both had plenty of things to keep them up at night. Or wake them well before their alarms. 

That morning - that whole week - for him, it was Sarah. 

Actually, it was you. It was what you’d said your first night in town, sitting at one of the tables in the community center. It was how you’d said it - and what it immediately made him feel. 

It was what it shook loose in his heart. 

A long sigh left his lungs empty. Removing his hand from under the pillow and scrubbing it down over his face, he took a slow breath to fill them again, recalling the look you wore and the broken sound of your voice when you said that you’d lost your nephew. A kid. She lost a kid. When you said that you were alone. And she had no one to… 

It sliced at him, knowing how much a loss like that hurt, knowing what it felt like to try to process something like that. Shit. For years I didn’t fuckin’ process it at all. Tommy knew what it was like to suffer a loss like the one that you had recently suffered, and then shove it down and hold it in and seal it off until it turned toxic. Until it consumed you. 

That was what losing Sarah had done to him. It’s what it had done to Joel. And though the two of them spent the first decade after the outbreak together, in all that time they never did talk about the most devastating loss either of them would ever feel. Not in any meaningful way. And it… it tore us apart. Made us ugly. Made us… made us into monsters that Sarah wouldn’t even recognize. 

Tommy had watched his older brother go from a carefree teenager to a responsible, stretched-too-thin-but-damned-if-he’s-not-trying single father when he was essentially still a kid himself. He watched Joel work overtime and pick up odd jobs to make ends meet, trade in weekends spent with friends at football tailgates for trips to the park or the zoo with his daughter, and he watched the way he beamed whenever he talked about his baby girl. 

And then she was just gone. And in almost every way that mattered, so was Joel. And Tommy lost both of them. 

A hollow, hopeless feeling had taken hold of him as he stood in that field, choking on his brother’s name in response to the hysterical pleas for help that he was powerless to give. Because I knew. I knew there was nothin’ I could do and- 

And I should have run faster. I should have gotten there sooner. I should have taken the shot from further away, before that asshole had the chance to- 

Those were the thoughts he’d spent years fighting back. That was the guilt that he bent beneath, that he carried with him every step he took. That feeling that he could have - should have - somehow been able to change the outcome, that he had somehow failed his brother and his niece. That- 

That it should have been me if it had to be any of us. 

They still crept up on him from time to time, those dark, painful thoughts. That sharp, jagged guilt still cut. The echoes of the night Sarah died still haunted him. But the ghosts that swirled in his chest and gathered in his throat to make it hard to breathe were interrupted that particular morning by the curl of Maria’s fingers against his side.

It had taken him the better part of twenty years and falling in love with the most stubborn, determined, compassionate woman he’d ever met, but Tommy was finally able to forgive himself for surviving. He knew, though, that had more to do with having Maria in his life than the amount of time that passed. Because she… He opened his eyes and cast them down at her again as she shifted, inhaling a slow breath through her nose as his t-shirt wrinkled beneath her cheek. She brought me back to life. Tilting his chin, he buried his lips in her hair, kissing the crown of her head. Showed me bein’ here was still worthwhile. Showed me how to do more than survive. 

It had been at Maria’s urging that he finally opened up about losing Sarah. That he finally grieved and mourned and set free all of the things he’d forced himself to hold inside. She let him share his agony and his rage with her, opened her arms and took as much of it from him as she could. And then she urged him to move forward. 

“Tommy.” She muttered his name without lifting her cheek or opening her eyes, but he felt her slide her hand up his side to settle on his chest. Instinctively, the arm he already had around her drew her in closer to his body, the other dropping down to join it as he hummed a response. “You’re awake.” I am. Her palm moved slowly over the cotton of his tee to rest over his heart as he pressed another kiss to her forehead, this one lingering. “You have been for a while.” I have. 

“Well, good mornin’ to you, too.” He swung for humor and missed, letting out a sigh when her only response was to lift her face to look at him. No use in sugarcoating it, not with her. It was one of the things he loved most about his wife - that she preferred to handle things head on, even early in the morning. “Yeah.” He nodded as he reached to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I’ve been up. Got some things on my mind I guess.” 

Eyes on him, she leaned into his touch, letting his hand curve around the side of her head as she nodded against his palm. “I know.” Of course you do. “I saw your face in the community center the other night, Tommy.” She pushed herself up so that she was resting her weight on one elbow, the other arm still slung over his chest as his hand dropped down to her back. “I know what she said about her nephew… I know you’re thinking about Sarah.” 

Right to the chase, no bullshit. He swallowed, lips twitching between a thin smile for how readily she understood him and a slight frown for the pang of heartache he felt whenever he thought of his niece. “Just… reminded me of how hard it was. To be so… so alone with all’a that.” Shit. He closed his eyes, the lids wrinkling as a wave of emotion made him clench them even more tightly. 

“Hey.” Maria spoke, fingertips coming up to trace the arch of his brow. He opened his eyes at her touch, just in time to see her gently shake her head from side to side. “You’re not alone with it anymore, right?” 

Tommy glanced over to the bedside table. The alarm clock was still waiting to sound, but that wasn’t where his focus fell, straying instead to the other item that stood there. It was a framed photo - one of himself, Joel, and Sarah, the girl wearing a medal around her neck and holding a soccer ball, laughter and happiness frozen on all of their faces, his and Joel’s looking 20 some odd years younger. Though it was under glass now, there were creases that he could still see from where the picture had been bent and folded from living in his pocket the whole trek up from Texas, spots where the color had faded with age and exposure. But it was and always would be one of his most cherished possessions. My family. He brought his focus back to his wife. Our family.  

“No.” He answered. “I’m not.” 

“You should talk to her,” she suggested. “You’re takin’ her through a sweep today, right?” You know I am. He nodded. “Let her know she doesn’t need to be alone with it either. I tried to... When I was showing her her new place? I… ” She sighed, sadness clouding her expression for a second, and Tommy knew that it was because even though she’d never met the girl, Maria also mourned for Sarah. Her heart ached for Tommy and for Joel and for the girl that never got to grow up before their eyes. “I think it would mean more comin’ from you, though.” 

Is that a good idea? He’d been wondering the same thing, but had been unsure of how to broach the topic without opening the book on his brother’s history, too. “You… you think?” 

“I do.” Maria’s tongue flicked out to wet her lips. “You… I’m sure you understand what she’s goin’ through.” 

Tommy sighed. “I dunno, Maria, I- Joel still doesn’t really talk about her much, ‘specially not to people he doesn’t know, and I don’t want to-” 

She didn’t let him continue, her tone not angry but firm as she cut him off. “You lost her, too, Tommy. You went through that pain, too, and I understand you wanting to respect Joel’s space and not wanting to tell his story. I do.” For all the bristling she did towards his brother when they first met, Tommy knew that his wife had come to love Joel. And Ellie. “But you can certainly tell yours. And Tommy?” She paused and he felt her eyes sweep over his face before she continued, letting her fingers comb through his hair. “I think it’ll be good for you to talk about it too, it’s not just for her.” 

He stared back at her in silence for a beat wondering how on Earth she always knew the right thing to say. How she was always able to ground him and guide him, even when he didn’t know he’d started drifting. When he did speak, he blew out a short amused breath, narrowing his eyes. “Where do you get off bein’ right all the damn time, woman? Huh?”

She smiled warmly, faint wrinkles gathering in the corners of her eyes and around the edges of her mouth. “It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.” He watched the light in her expression shift from comforting to teasing, and then before she even moved, he knew she was about to flick her gaze upwards. “Speaking of tough jobs,” she proved him right, looking up above their heads and using the hand that had been on his chest to point at the ceiling. “I really will get Joel over here to patch that up if you don’t d-” 

His arms enveloped her then, folding her close to his chest so that her laughter was swallowed up as he flipped her onto her back. “You better not say a word to him about that, or-” 

The tinny sound of the alarm clock cut through the rest of his empty threat, and it died on his lips as Maria reached over to silence it. Tapping his arm, she gave him a sleepy smile. “Time to get up, c’mon.” 

Instead of rolling over immediately though, he looked down at the woman who had revived his heart, who had helped him find reasons to keep going, who had made him happier than he ever imagined possible, and before the two of them surrendered to the start of the day, untangling from each other and rising from the bed to tend to their daily responsibilities, he lowered his face to hers and kissed her deeply. 

Pulling back slowly, he nudged the tip of her nose with his. “Thank you.” He leaned forward to brush his lips along her temple, and though his next words were muffled by her skin, he knew she heard them. “You know what for.” 

For loving me. For letting me in. For accepting all the shit I’ve done. For trusting me. For everything. 

She wrapped her arms around him and held him there for the length of a few breaths, then turned her cheek so that she could press it to his bearded one. “Anytime, handsome.” She squeezed, and he heard one more word slip out before she let go. “Always.” 

When she tapped his bicep again, Tommy moved aside so that she could get up, and with a handful of yawns and a few cracks from achy joints, the two of them started their day.

–  –  –  –  

He waited until the two of you had made it out to the turnaround point to say anything that wasn’t directly related to trail patrol protocol. 

Until then, you’d been fairly quiet, only answering his questions and asking the few that you had along the way. Though he’d been focused on assessing your capability to join the patrol team - which he determined you’d be a good fit for - he was also trying his best to gauge what your reaction might be to what he was about to bring up. Because even though he agreed with Maria, the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot. This is a big fuckin’ gamble, but… He lifted his eyes from his hands where he was shucking his gloves, bringing them up to watch you sign your name and his in the logbook that sat on the dusty table in the dining room of the safe house. But I think it’s the right move. 

“Under the notes column I just wrote all clear,” you said, using the pen to point at the page with a shrug. “Looks like that’s what other people wrote, so I figured-” 

“Yeah, that’s right.” He nodded, tucking his gloves in his jacket pocket. Using the toe of one boot, he hooked a chair leg and dragged it out before sinking into the seat with a sigh. “You see any infected you just write how many and where and if you took ‘em out or…” He trailed off as you flipped through the log, the pages crinkling as you turned them. 

Your eyes caught on a specific entry and widened slightly, and before he could wonder which it was, you read it aloud. “9/7/2036 - Joel and Tommy - 3 clickers in garage on Frontier Rd. - killed all 3.” Oh, that one. Returning to the current page, you set the pen down like a bookmark and looked up at him as you pulled out a chair for yourself. “Doesn’t sound fun.” 

He blew out a burst of air and shook his head. “It wasn’t.” Because we didn’t see the third one until we were already in there and… He cleared his throat and blinked away the memory. Doesn’t matter now. “It’s not common, runnin’ into that many of ‘em this close to town. But we like to keep it that way so when we can, we put ‘em down.” You nodded, a small furrow deepening in your brow. “If we can’t? Too many or…” He gestured vaguely with one hand. “We do the smart thing, and we log it so we can keep track of where we know they are until we can come up with a plan for dealing with ‘em.”  

You ran your finger over the page of the ledger that you’d just filled out, scanning the previous weeks and months of sweeps. “Makes sense.” 

Tommy knocked his knuckles against the table. “Good. Yeah, it’s pretty straightforward. You’ll always be with a partner. And you always make both of you comin’ back safely a priority. Sound like somethin’ you can be on board with?”  

Taking a breath, you nodded before letting it back out. “Yeah. Definitely. I…” You cleared your throat, swallowing hard. “I can start right away, too. I’m ready.” 

He lifted one eyebrow, watching you closely. She’s lookin’ for distractions so she doesn’t have to sit home alone with… He clicked his tongue. Shit. “Alright,” he agreed. “I’ll get you added to rotation this week. I’m sure there’s someone who could use a day off.” 

Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips. “Yeah. I’ll take whatever shifts don’t coincide with the bakery hours.” 

I did that, too. When I first got here. Spent all my time doin’ repairs and ridin’ trails. So I didn’t have to face any of the shit I was pushing down. 

He said your name and frowned at the way you seemed surprised by the sound of it. “We don’t need you runnin’ yourself into the ground, alright? I’ll get you on the schedule, but -” Now or never. You sat in silence across from him, eyes wider than they’d gone when you’d read about the infected he and Joel dispatched a few months back. “But I want you to know that you don’t have to keep yourself busy all the time.” 

You started to protest, shaking your head, words stumbling out of your mouth. “No, Tommy, it’s… I’d rather, I want-” 

He held up one palm as you went silent again, and he let out a deep breath. “I know what you’re trying to do. Because I spent a long time doin’ the same thing, and I can tell you that all it does is make it harder and draw it out and-” He felt his throat thicken. “And if you don’t work through it, it’ll eat you up inside and-” 

Your head was moving side to side more rapidly as you stood abruptly, the chair legs scraping the floor. “No, you don’t understand, I-” 

Yes I do. He spoke your name again and what he saw on your face when you looked at him made it clear that you needed to hear what he was about to say. “I do understand.” He flinched as he felt it cut sharply through his chest. “I know what it’s like. Losing family that’s way too young to-” Shit. His voice had started to waver, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

Twenty four years later, Tommy could still hear Sarah laughing as he made a joke at Joel’s expense. He could still see her face light up like the damn sun when he would show up at her soccer games. The space she took up in his heart still remembered what it was to be her uncle. 

Your voice was quiet as you spoke, more of an exhale than a whisper. “Tommy… I-” 

No. He knew you were trying to give him an out, trying to tell him that it was fine, that he didn’t have to rehash his pain to help you through yours. But it ain’t fine. And… Maria was right. I need this as much as she does. He didn’t know you well, and he hadn’t known you for long, but he knew the look in your eyes and the weight in your heart because he had seen and felt it in himself. 

Shaking his head, he cut you off and continued, taking care not to say anything that would give away the fact that he was talking about Joel’s daughter. “I… we lost my niece.” Jesus, how long’s it been since I said that out loud to someone? He watched your mouth fall open, your lower lip trembling as you took a deep and shuddering breath, and he nodded, brow creasing heavily. I know. It’s so fuckin’ unfair. “Kid was… I loved that little girl. And when she was taken from us it-” Another dense lump clogged his throat but he pushed through it, words breaking slightly. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through, toughest loss I’ve had so I… when I tell you that I understand what you’re goin’ through and that I know what it’s like? It’s not just me sayin’ some shit to make you feel better.” He shook his head. “I know there’s nothin’ I can say that’s gonna make you feel better about losin’ your nephew.  But if you… you should talk about him. Doesn’t have to be to me. Doesn’t have to be now. But… don’t sit with this alone for too long. Alright?” 

I don’t want it to fuckin’ destroy you. Like it did to me for so damn long. Like it did to Joel for even longer. 

You didn’t ask any questions about what he’d said or give any indication that you were angry or offended. You didn’t storm off to find a different room to wait in until it was time to head back to town. You didn’t throw the log book in his face. You just sat there, weighing his words. 

When you did finally break your silence, you did it with one word, and a shaky, tear strained nod. “Alright.” One word, followed by two more and a hitch in your breathing. “Thank you.” 

Just like the night at the community center, Tommy reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a clean bandana. Handing it over to you, he gave you what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Anytime.” 

.

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[goldenspecter]

Wash and Go

summary: wash and go (or wash 'n go) - a method of cleaning and styling hair without the use of heat, protective styling or any other manipulation techniques and a staple in the natural hair community.

Valerie hadn't expected to style a ghost kid's hair, especially one as powerful as Clockwork, but she believes that everyone should have a good hair experience. She just didn't think it would be the start of something new.

Word Count: 6,970

Archive of Our Own FFN

This fic takes place early season 1, like maybe a week or so after "Parental Bonding".

-I headcanon Clockwork to be black and queer/nonbinary and express that through all my fics that I've written. Maybe not as explicit as calling out skin tones but through little things like AAVE(African-American Vernacular) and their hair type. So at the very least, they were coded to be read as black whenever I write them. Valerie uses AAVE terms so if there are words that pop out at you that you don't instantly recognize/aren't sure of, that's AAVE and it's used in its correct context. This fic serves as a reclamation of blackness/black culture for CW, Valerie and Tucker, for more on that, it’s included on the AO3/FFN versions but not this one since I didn’t want to clutter it any further with notes.

-Music in this phic: Green Eggs and Ham by Princess Nokia and VRY BLK by Jamila Woods ft Noname

---

It’s quiet in her room and the young, small, blue ghost that she mysteriously acquired is laying in her bed, watching a video on their prized console. They-Clockwork, is quiet, curling in on themselves, as if to make themselves smaller than what they truly are and it rubs Valerie the wrong way. She’s not quite sure how, but she knows that something is off. As an attempt to ease the small child, Valerie moves in to run her fingers through their hair in an attempt to comfort them when her fingers are stuck in thick silver curls and Clockwork hisses in pain, but doesn’t make any move to pull away or pry her fingers out of their hair. 

“Chile, do you not comb your hair? When was the last time you ran a comb through that?” Valerie asks, gentle maneuvering her fingers out of the thick, nappy hair. 

“You’re supposed to comb it?” asks Clockwork, voice tinged with confusion. 

“Yes, you’re supposed to comb it!” Valerie almost shrieks, because what parent doesn’t teach their own child to comb their hair or style it for them? Hair was such an important thing for children. It spoke volumes about people, the luscious curls, vibrant blacks and deep browns that stand proudly on top of your head, and she knows each and every hairstyle she rocks is breathtaking and commands attention to her personhood. She can’t imagine a child not being taught to take pride in their hair and the fact that this child hasn’t been taught to be prideful of their hair both saddens and enrages her. She notices the subtle flinch before she softens her voice,  “Sorry about that but do your parents really not comb your hair?”

Clockwork is silent before shaking their head, “They said it’s too much trouble,” they say, voice soft. “So they cut it short when it grew out too much. Saved everyone time.” 

Valerie’s eyes darken in rage and she has to take cartoonishly deep breaths before she can speak. What kind of parent does that shit? To give up on their child, not bothering to take care of their needs and all but giving up on them? She takes another deep breath and speaks in a low voice,  “Well, we’re gonna change that.”

Clockwork furrows an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to do your hair,” she says, “That is, if you’re okay with it.”

“No one wants to do my hair,” Clockwork says quickly, “It’s a pain to do and I’m too much of a baby for anyone to do it. I always cry and scream too much when my guardians try.”

It takes every fiber in Valerie’s body to hold back a venomous retort about how shitty Clockwork’s parents sound, because at the very least, she knows that her anger at their parents will be misconstrued and that Clockwork will grow to be afraid of her. Instead, she puts a hand under their chin and gently turns their head to make them look at her. 

“Getting your hair combed sounds scary, I get it,” Valerie starts, “However, it's not healthy to keep avoiding it like this. You gotta do it at some point, and if you decide that after this you wanna get your haircut and keep it short, that’s fine. But at the very least, you deserve to have a good experience when it comes to your hair and I would like to be the one to provide that for you if you like.”

Clockwork falls silent, before nodding hesitantly. 

Valerie is surprised that they agreed to something like this so quickly, that they trust her with something so intimate, but she does nothing to convey her surprise. Instead, she stands up and puts her hands on her hips. “Alright, first step is to wash your hair.”

Fifteen minutes later, Valerie gathers two combs, shampoo and conditioner sets them down on the counter of the kitchen sink as she finishes cleaning off the counter. It doesn’t take her long to do so, and when she finishes, she gently motions for Clockwork to come over. Clockwork obediently comes over, tightly holding the dry towel to their chest, their grip tightening when they eye the combs laying on the counter. 

“Will it hurt?” they ask, looking down at the ground.. It’s not how a child typically asks when parents have to disinfect cuts and scrapes, but from a child who knows and has been through some serious pain. Valerie’s heart aches for this child she barely knows. She’d love to meet their parents because she has a lot of questions to ask, most of which involve a lead pipe. 

“Yea, it will,” she says honestly, not wanting to lie to Clockwork. “Especially since you’ve never had your hair combed but I promise you I will do my best to not make it hurt anymore than it has to.” 

“You promise?” Clockwork asks.

Valerie nods. “Come on up here squirt. Let’s get started.” She helps Clockwork onto the counter, moving one hand on their back while the other rests on their chest and she slowly but gently guides their head to hover above the sink. Once Valerie thinks that Clockwork is steady, she slowly removes her hands and moves to turn one of the sink knobs. She slides her hand under the water, slowly waiting for it to get hot enough before she touches the knob for cold water. Valerie puts her hand under the water again, deems it warm enough before she pulls out the spray head and starts to wet Clockwork’s hair. 

“Is this too hot?” she asks. 

Clockwork squirms a little, pulling their head back from the water. Valerie holds their head still but moves the nozzle away from them and turns the cold water on just a little bit more. She puts the nozzle back at their hair, “How about now?”

“Yes, thank you.” they say. 

“No problem. I promised you would have a good experience and this is an important part.” Valerie says, moving the nozzle around to thoroughly wet Clockwork’s hair. 

Valerie occasionally fluffs their hair as she wets it. Once she determines that it's fully drenched, she places the spray head back into its socket, grabs the shampoo and opens it with a loud click. 

She squeezes a nice dollop of it in her hand to start out and begins to massage the shampoo into Clockwork’s hair. “I wasn’t sure what scent you’d like best so I picked out lavender to start with. We can shop for more if you want to keep this up.”

“I like lavender.” they say, then a moment later, “If I want to keep this up?”

“Yea, if you like how this turns out, then we can keep this up. We can try out different hairstyles, do whatever you want. I can ask dad to buy more hair stuff from the store.” Valerie answers, adding more shampoo to Clockwork’s hair and deeply massaging it in with the soapy suds coating her hands. 

“You want to keep doing my hair?” asks Clockwork and Valerie knows that they’re asking much more than that. You want to keep trying? You aren’t ready to give up hope on me? You don’t want to quit?

“Yes, if you let me.” Valerie says, because she loves doing hair. She loves styling it. Taking something that’s so beautiful in its raw form, magnifying its beauty with braids, twisting, heat is a magic all on its own and she’s so glad that she’s able to take part in that magic. 

Clockwork lets out a tiny ‘ok’ so softly that Valerie has to really strain her ears to hear them. She can tell that she’s made them uncomfortable so she quickly dries her hands, opens Spotify on her phone and plays some music. Her voice and body falls into the trap that the music lays out for her and so soon, she swings her hips as she sings proudly while still continuing to wash Clockwork’s hair. 

“Love my inner child, Kool-Aid smile

I been like this for a while

Going into town, gonna find a crowd

Right by the kids in the park with the style”

Her joy is contagious, as Clockwork begins to tap their hand against their chest with the beat. Valerie’s nails scratch against their scalp, causing Clockwork to let out a groan. 

“Something wrong?”

Clockwork immediately shakes their head, “No. Just- that felt good. Can-can you keep doing that?”

“Of course,” Valerie says as she presses her fingers into their scalp, massaging the skin with varying pressures to both distribute the foamy substance and pamper the neglected area." “Is it too much pressure or good enough?”

“Uhh...good enough?” Clockwork answers, and Valerie can tell that she’s hit the sweet spot. “I like the pressure, I don’t know why.”

“It’s okay not to know why,” Valerie reassures them, pulling the nozzle and rinsing out the shampoo before adding more into the child’s hair. “But to be honest? It just feels good to have someone massage your hair and that’s okay.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. When my dad used to wash my hair, I loved it when he massaged my hair.” Valerie says, continuing to massage their hair. Her music is still playing, hiding a smile when she hears Clockwork softly humming to her music. 

Her hands pull at several strands of silver hair at the nape of Clockwork’s nape. “Do you hear any squeaking?” 

“A little? What does it mean if it’s squeaking?”

“Your hair’s clean. Hold your ears closed, I don't want water to get in them. Swimmer’s ear is hell.” says Valerie, thoroughly rinsing out the soap and suds before she adds more. “I’ll wash it again just to make sure. I want it completely free of any build up of dirt or dandruff before I style it.”

Valerie washes Clockwork’s hair a third time, this time making sure that she completely scrubs out all of the dirt and dandruff that might have built up before she rinses out the soap and suds for the last time. She gets the bottle of conditioner, begins to squeeze it out, and rubs into Clockwork’s hair.

Once there’s an ample amount of condition in Clockwork’s hair, Valerie reaches across the sink to grab one of her combs, a golden wide tooth comb and readies it in her hand. Clockwork eyes the comb with great suspicion, instinctively scooting away from the menacing comb. 

Valerie notices and rests her hand on their chest to stop them in their tracks. “Look, I know, I know. It’s scary, it’s going to hurt a lot, especially since you haven’t had a lot of experience with this.” Valerie begins, voice soft. “If you need to scream, cry, whatever, then go ahead and do it. I’m not going to stop you. Okay?”

“Okay.” Clockwork whispers, bracing themselves to feel the teeth of the comb dig into their hair. 

Valerie places the comb at Clockwork’s edges, pulls the comb through the hair to form a part, occasionally having to pull the tangled strands apart by hands. During this Clockwork hisses, kicking the side of the island in pain. She does this two more times, effectively parting the soaking wet hair into three sections. Valerie fully sinks the teeth of the comb into their hair, starting at the scalp and begins to pull the comb through, collecting dead hair as it goes through stopping at the ends. Valerie focuses on the ends, where its the most tangled, combing it through multiple times to get it to that silky smoothness. 

She retracts the comb from their hair, pulls the dead hair piling in between the teeth of the comb and puts it in the strainer at the bottom of the sink to be collected when she finishes. Valerie combs through the first section one last time and nods in satisfaction at how easily she can run the comb through their hair. 

Sticking the comb in Clockwork's hair, she does a quick check in. “How are we feeling?” she asks. 

Clockwork quickly wipes away any tears pooling at the corners of their eyes before they turn their head to look at her. “It hurts, but I think I’ll be okay.” they say.

Valerie quirks an eyebrow. Getting hair combed hurts like hell, even when combed often. They have to be in some serious pain for how tenderheaded they were. “You sure?” she presses, “I can stop for a few minutes if you like. It’s not a big deal, Clockwork.”

The small child shakes their head, “No,” they say, a soft sob itching to be let loose but they manage to suppress it. “You can keep going.”

“Okay,” Valerie says quietly, pulling the comb out of Clockwork’s hair and resumes by starting to comb out the next section. Clockwork continues to hiss in pain, but doesn’t do anything to stop her. 

Dead hair continues to gather at the bottom of the sink as she combs through the sections. 

“What’s this song? I like it.” Clockwork asks, Valerie muses that they’re trying to focus on something other than the pain.   

“VRY BLK by Jamila Woods and Noname. It’s one of my favorites.” She pulls the hair from the teeth of the comb before returning the comb through their hair. “Would you like me to turn it up?”

They nod, “Yes please.” 

Valerie dries her hands on her shirt, grabs her phone to turn the volume up and starts the song over. A soft steady percussion starts up and slowly takes over the kitchen.

“Black is like the magic, the magic's like a spell

My brothers went to heaven, the police going to, yeah, they're going to

Hello operator, emergency hotline

If I say that I can't breathe, will I become a chalk line

Up to see the movie, line up to see the act”

Valerie takes pride in her voice, as she continues to sing as she finishes combing out Clockwork’s hair, and smiles as she can hear them sing along to the chorus very softly. They aren’t flinching from the pain as much and she considers that to be a monumental improvement. She runs the comb through several more times to make sure that their hair was fully combed out before she rinses out the conditioner in their hair. 

When the conditioner is completely rinsed out, she turns the water off, gathers the clumps of hair sitting in the strainer and dumps them in the trash can. She returns to the sink, helps Clockwork sit up, pulls the towel away from them, and drapes the towel around their neck. Valerie holds out a hand for Clockwork to hold onto and pulls them off the counter.

“How was it?”

Clockwork runs a hand through their hair, eyes widening in surprise that it’s free from kinks. “It’s...good. It felt good.”

Valerie beams, “Good.” She grabs the combs, her phone, and a chair that’s in front of the kitchen island and takes with her into the downstairs bathroom. “Come along Clockwork!”

Clockwork follows after her, droplets of water forming a trail behind them.  They’re standing outside the bathroom when she wordlessly gestures for them to sit in the chair in front of the mirror. Clockwork struggles to get in the chair since it’s the chair is a bit higher than them but they manage to hop in. when they finally hop on the chair, they are entranced by their reflection staring back at them in the mirror. They pull at a few strands of silver hair, looking on in curiosity as it unravels and coils back once they let go. 

This was what their hair looked like when it was combed, washed and treated with care? Impossible. It looks.. too good. Healthy. It’s on their head, so it has to be their hair. Maybe they shouldn't get too attached because Valerie says she would be willing to keep this up, but what if she grows tired of doing it and ends up cutting it like the Observants.

“Looks great doesn’t it?” Valerie says, cutting them out of their thoughts. 

Clockwork nods, “I can’t believe that this is what my hair looks like.” they say in awe, because holy shit this is what their hair actually looks like. Their vision blurs and before they can wipe their tears away, Valerie’s hands are already there, whipping away the tears that spilled over. 

“If you think this looks good now, just wait until I’m finished.” Valerie says, excitement bleeding in her voice. She takes the towel off their neck and drapes it across the chair. Grabbing the comb, Valerie quickly combs through their hair and sections it into four big plaits.

Valerie takes down one of the braids in the back, pulls out a jar of curl defining creme, opens it up and scoops some out with her fingers. She then slabs the cream on top of their hair before she takes time to really work it through, pulling her fingers through the hair to define the curls. Her hands dive back into the jar to scoop out some more and continue massaging it through Clockwork’s hair, saturating the hair with the cream. 

Clockwork is quiet throughout the process, casually stimming as Valerie did their hair and they honestly couldn’t believe how easy it was so far? Why couldn’t the Observants do something like this?

“It’s so smooth,” Clockwork says. 

“Yea, glad I combed your hair out right?” Valerie jokes with a smile.

She gets a fervent nod as her answer. "Me too. Otherwise, it would be a helluva lot harder to do this." 

The music still plays in the background as Valerie finishes one section, takes down another braid and continues the process. It takes about an hour to do, and that hour goes by quickly. 

When Valerie finally finishes, she proudly puts her hands on her hips, "What's the verdict so far?" she waits for Clockwork's reaction. 

Clockwork leans forward in the chair to get a closer look at their hair. This is actually, really their hair. Fingers slowly pull at some of the defined curls hanging in front of their face and coming away with a build up of the cream between their fingers. 

“It’s so pretty.” Clockwork says in awe, and as much they don’t want to, they can’t help but be prideful of their hair. They look at Valerie. “What now?”

“We let it dry.” says Valerie. “It takes a few hours to do.”

“I’m a Time Master!” Clockwork answers, gesturing to the clock in their chest. “I can speed time up, and you won’t even notice!”

“Oh we don’t have to wait that long.” Clockwork says simply.

“How so?” Valerie answers, “Unless you’re talking about a hairdryer, I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“You? A Time Master?” Valerie asks, seeing Clockwork nod enthusiastically, quirks an eyebrow. “You’re so young.”

She doesn’t give herself time to think about how she literally just did a Time Master’s hair. Because holy shit, if this child is so powerful, then how powerful were their parents?

Clockwork frowns, “That’s what everyone says. The Observants think so too, but here I am!” They force themselves to smile and Valerie thinks there’s so much more to that bright and cheery optimism that Clockwork is exuding. 

“Yea, you are. But I think using your powers to dry up your hair is cheating.” Valerie says gently. “If you want to truly experience this, then you gotta wait like the rest of us mere mortals.”

“How long does it take?”

“Four hours. Give or take.” says Valerie, “Sometimes I use a blow dryer to speed it up a little bit if I’m not in the mood to wait that long. I can use a blow dryer if you want?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay.” Valerie goes into the bathroom closet, rummaging through the piles of towels, hair products, and bed sheets until she comes across the blow dryer. She gets, heads back to the sink, reaches over Clockwork to plug it in the wall, and drapes the tower over their neck. “It’ll get a bit hot, just let me know if it’s too much.”

“I know it’ll get hot, that’s what they’re supposed to do. I’m not a baby.” Clockwork says smartly and Valerie can’t help glaring at the small child. 

“You and I, we finna fight.” She says with a smile. “But seriously, tell me if it’s too hot, okay?”

“I don’t see the point, but okay I guess.” Uneasiness grows in Valerie’s stomach, what the hell has this child been through for them to not take their own limitations seriously? What the hell have these Observants done?

Valerie is seriously starting to question that she needs a lead pipe when she finally does talk to these Observants.

Valerie turns the blow dryer on, keeping it several inches away from Clockwork’s hair, moves it around their head, the heat of the blow dryer slowly but surely drying it a bit. She occasionally wraps her hand around the curls, to feel how wet their hair is and to make sure that she doesn’t dry it too much. 

“How’s the heat?” She asks.

“Hot.”

“That’s what blowdryers are supposed do.” She mimics from earlier, laughing when Clockwork glares at her. “Is it too much?”

A firm shake of the head, “No? I don’t think so? It feels kinda nice.”

“Cool, cool. I’m only doing this for another minute or two since I don’t wanna dry it out too much.” Valerie blow dries it for another 5 or so minutes before she cuts the blow dryer off, unplugs it, wraps the cord around it and stuffs it back in the closet. 

Clockwork slides off the chair, shuffles towards Valerie, who presses a hand against the top of their hair. 

“Hmm, it’s still somewhat wet. It shouldn’t take more than two hours for it to fully dry out.” Valerie guesses. 

The child fumbles with their gloved fingers. “What do you normally do while you wait?”

Valerie rests a hand under her chin. “I watch tv, play a game or two, read a book if I don’t have homework to do.” Eying Clockwork, she continues. “Homework isn’t that important though, what would you like to do?”

“I dunno?” Clockwork says shyly, pointedly looking at the ground. 

She doesn’t say it out loud because she’s certain it would embarrass them, but the way Clockwork acts is oh so similar to the little kids that she babysits for some quick and easy money and that in and of itself is so damn adorable. 

“What do you normally do then?”

“I mainly watch the timestreams! Or I train on my powers! Sometimes I have to attend some meetings or handle some crisis that the timelines are going through at times.” 

‘Does this child do nothing but work?’ Valere thinks to herself. “Do you do anything for fun?”

“I don’t have time for fun. Not when there’s important work to be done.” Clockwork says with a derisive snort, sounding so much older than the seven/eight year old they are. “Humanity’s a little bit more important than me having fun.”

“I’m sorry but what the fuck is wrong with your parents?” Valerie snaps.

Clockwork flinches and Valerie immediately regrets it.“There’s nothing wrong with the Observants. They’re doing just fine.”

Valerie growls, pressing her hands to her temples, trying and failing to suppress the frustration that she’s experiencing right now. “Yes there is. My dad doesn’t make me work all the time, your parents shouldn’t either.”

“But that’s different!” Clockwork shouts.

“How the fuck is it different?”

“You’re a human child! You wouldn’t understand!”

“You’re a child too!” Valerie shouts. “You are a literal child! You’re younger than me!”

Clockwork sputters at that, trying and failing to come up with a response. “But I’m a Time Master-”

Valerie clasps a hand on one of their shoulders, “You might be a Time Master, but you are a child first and foremost. That’s the most important thing for you to be and the Observants are wrong to teach you otherwise.”

The teen pulls Clockwork into a tight hug, “How about we play a game or something? We can do whatever you want.”

Clockwork’s muffled voice mumbles out, “Really?”

“Really.”

“Can I show you my tower?” Clockwork asks excitedly, pulling away from her and she can visibly see the way Clockworks eyes light up.  “It’s really cool, there’s a lot of rooms, hallways and books-”

Valerie presses a finger against Clockwork’s lips, “Why talk about it when you can show me it?”

"I'm not really the best at teleporting. I have accidents sometimes," Clockwork admits softly. "I don't think I'd be any good teleporting two people."

She shrugs, "Maybe you aren't. Perhaps there's other ways to get there." 

"There are but natural portals take forever to form and there aren't any in Amity Park." Clockwork says, "Guess we'll have to teleport there."

Valerie raises an eyebrow, looking down at the young Time Master. "I thought you weren't any good at it." She says suspiciously.

Clockwork doesn't say anything as they run towards Valerie. "We'll have to find out won't we?" They say, jumping up, diving into Valerie, wrapping their arms around her. A portal formed behind the two children, both of them falling through the portal and Valerie landed on her bottom as they came from the other side with Clockwork buried into their chest. Clockwork sits up, looks down at Valerie and tilts their head. 

"Did I do good?" Clockwork asks. 

Valerie pulls herself up, uses her elbows to keep herself propped up, and looks around. The simple bathroom that her and Clockwork was in is gone, the house, everything that she knew is nowhere to be found and was replaced with scrying portals twice her size and clock gears of various sizes. Valerie questions why there are so many gears here, since it seems like it would be dangerous for a young kid like Clockwork to be around no matter how smart or cautious they seem. But she doesn't say it out loud, instead, saving it for whenever she finally meets these Observants.  She looks to her left and her right, the seeing the hallways that Clockwork mentioned from earlier, but the more she stares down the hall, the more they grow in size and loom over her, the discomfort that started off small growing until she can actually feel it gnaw at her. 

Clockwork taps her shoulders and she jolts, tensing her shoulders before remembering that it was only just Clockwork as she loosens the tension in her shoulders and lets out a deep breath. 

"Did I do good?" they ask again. 

Valerie looks around one last time, really taking in the scenery of the tower, how everything the tower touches seems to be saturated in green overtones, the overwhelming sense that everything about this place feels so unnatural, disconcerting and wrong and that a simple human like her wasn't meant to be here. Slowly, she nods her head, not wanting Clockwork to pick up on her uneasiness. 

"You did great buddy." she says. "You mind getting off of me?" 

Clockwork beams at the praise, floating off of Valerie and helping her stand up. Once she's up off the ground, they look up at her with wide expectant eyes. "Can I give you that tour now?" They ask, tail flicking behind them excitedly. 

"Yea, sure buddy." Valerie says, yelping when Clockwork takes her hand and begins dragging her through the halls to give her the tour of the citadel. 

As Clockwork gives the tour, she takes note of all the empty rooms that have been repurposed for gardens and apocatheries, libraries brimming with rare books that are worth more than what her father will make in his entire life time, how Clockwork is just so enthused with bringing someone along to show them empty rooms devoid of life and personality and she has to wonder how lonely they have to be. 

She's not sure how long the tour was, but it felt like it was over before it truly started. Green eyes catch a door with a startling amount of locks on it and her curiosity shines through. 

"What's behind that door?" she asks. 

Clockwork tenses, the grip they have on her hand tightening. "It's nothing." they say with a tight voice, pulling Valerie along as the two move away from the door. "Let's go." 

"Is it dangerous?" 

"Tour's over." they say cryptically. 

So it is dangerous. "Why is there something so dangerous in your tower?" She asks, walking behind them. "Why would these Observants leave something like that with a little kid? What if you got hurt?"

Clockwork shrugs, "It's not like I don't heal up, I'm usually fine." 

"Usually? What about when you aren't?"

"I heal. Eventually. and I get over it." Clockwork says, leading Valerie back to the area where they started from. "That's it."

"Don't these Observants help you heal or get better?" 

Clockwork raises an eyebrow and shakes their head in a manner that says 'dont ask stupid questions.' "No? Why would they? I get myself in trouble, I get myself out of it." They say nonchalantly, turning their back to Valerie as they wave a hand to change the image on their scrying portal. "You wanna see something cool?" 

Valerie begins to shake her head to argue about the Observants, but whatever she is going to say dies down in her throat when she sees the hopeful look on Clockwork's face begging her to drop the subject.

Reluctantly, she nods her head, "Sure why not?" 

Clockwork beams at her, grabs her hand and pulls her into the scrying portal. Valerie doesn't have time to think about how she feels like she's wading through jelly as she goes through the portal and how her body goes numb for several seconds after she stumbles through the portal before she finally catches herself awkwardly standing on her tippy toes, body lurching forward and just one misstep away from falling flat on her face 

Time travel, she supposes, isn't really meant for humans. 

"Are you okay?” Clockwork asks, “I’ve never had a human travel with me before.”

Valerie nods, before her throat coats itself in bile, feels it rise and fills her mouth and she immediately shakes her head. The fourteen year old throws herself over the closest ledge, leaning over and throwing up the bile that came out of nowhere. Her legs buckle as she continues throwing up before she finally stops,  resting limply for a few moments. Valerie pushed herself off of the ledge, shakily pulls herself back together, before turning around to face Clockwork. 

“If I wasn’t fine before,” she rasps out. “I’m fine now.” 

Clockwork raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure?”

Nodding her head, “My mouth feels gross but some water should do me some good.”

“Okay.” Clockwork says, slipping their hand into hers and guiding her away from the stone ledge. “There’s a resturant around here somewhere, we can get you some water.”

It finally crosses Valerie’s mind to ask where she is. “Where are we anyways?”

“Rome.” Clockwork says offhandedly.

“Ancient Rome?” Valerie asks.

“Noooo,” Clockwork says with a laugh, looking up at one of the street names before crossing the street. “Present day Rome. Don’t get me wrong, ancient Rome is cool and all, I just didn’t think you would like to see gladiators, deal with the stench-Romans bathe but like, Rome is still gross and all the other nastiness that goes on.”

Oh. She didn’t consider that. She wonders from the way they’re crossing the street, with no one really paying attention to them, if they were really there. “Can they see us?”

“Who?”

With her only free hand, she vaguely gestures to everyone around them. “Them!” 

Finally understanding who Valerie was referring to, Clockwork shakes their head. “No. to them we don’t really exist? I don’t know how to explain it, but whatever we do right now isn’t really going to impact the timeline.”

Valerie doesn’t really get it. Maybe it’s because she’s not a Master of Time and doesn’t really understand the complexities that come with the passage of time and if she was quite honest, she’s grateful that she’s just a human who interacts with time in such a simple and straightforward way. Valerie doesn’t get it, but she trusts this kid that’s pulling her through the streets of Rome. 

The two walk by several clothing shops before finally making it to that restaurant that Clockwork mentioned earlier. Valerie looks up to see the name of the restaurant and is taken aback when she sees the white double arches standing out against the black drapes. 

“McDonald’s?” Valerie asks, a hand on her hip. “Of all the places in Rome and you choose McDonald’s?”

“McDonalds is considered a restaurant, so I technically brought you to one.” Clockwork says arrogantly, curling their fingers around the door handle.  “You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.”

Clockwork pulls the door open and enters. Valerie grumbles and begrudgingly follows after them, slipping through the open space before the door closes, her potential complaints dying down when she saw the interior of the McDonalds. Black bricks on the floor, with dining booths covered in leather, each one separated by wood and marble. She takes a few steps forward, taking in how...sophisticated this McDonald’s looks. As she marvels at the decor, her eyes move away from the furniture and flooring before they linger and gaze in awe at the sculpture cornered a few steps away from the tables. 

Valerie steps in front of the statue, a beautiful Roman woman with a dress. Her arms were missing, and the dress rests below her chest, each of the folds immaculately sculpted in the marble. Valerie reaches her hand out to touch the detailed folds of the dress, but retracts her hand in fear that if she touches something so beautiful, it’ll break and crumble in her hands. 

“It’s not going to break, you know,” Clockwork says, “It’s not the original sculpture, the original is in a museum if you want to see it.”

She looks down at them, then back at the sculpture. “Do you know who did it?” 

Clockwork shrugs. “I dont know but it’s no Venus de Milo.” They turn away, walking down the steps, and heading into the main area of the restaurant. “You still want that water?”

Remembering how dry and parched her throat is, Valerie nods, stepping down and walking into the main part of McDonald’s and she’s taken aback at how fancy it looks. The Nasty Burger could never look like this, “It’s a fancy McDonald’s, I’ll give it that.”

“I thought all McDonald's look like this?" They ask. 

"Chile no," she scoffs, they walk past the people and stop in front of a self-service kiosk. Valerie taps the screen and orders herself her much needed water. 

"Can you throw in some fries please?" Clockwork asks. "Nuggets too!"

"Aren't you hungry?" She teases, adding the requested items to the cart. "I could go for some fries and a chicken sandwich myself." 

Adding the items to the order, she taps finish, and when the payment page comes up, she turns to Clockwork. "And how do you propose we pay for all of this?" She asks, "I don't have any of my money on me." 

Clockwork bites their lip, before leaning over and tapping the screen, and fiddling with it before it shows that the order was paid for it. The kiosk spits out a receipt, Valerie takes it and eyes Clockwork suspiciously. "What did you do? I thought you said we don't really have an impact on the timeline."

"I just took advantage of a little loophole in the system," they say innocently. Looking up at Valerie, they shy away from her disapproving frown, turning away from her appearant disappointment as they explain themselves. "It's not going to hurt anyone, and we don't really have an impact on the timeline right now."

Valerie notices how they turn away from her, and decides to let up, relaxing the tense muscles on her face. She wasn't happy that they technically stole from the people here, but she won't harp on them too much. They say it won't really have an impact on the people here, so that doesn't make it that terrible right? Shaking her head, Valerie moves away from the kiosk, towards the register and waits for their food to be served. Ten minutes pass by, she hears their order number called out, grabs the food, rolls the top of the bag inward to keep the food hot, and searches for a table that isn't too full to sit at. Clockwork stays close to her, and she offhandedly notices how their hand slips into the crook of their elbow and latch themselves close to her. Something foreign blooms in her chest but she squashes it down before she can put a name to it or fully explore it, blaming it on the weirdness involving Clockworks powers. 

She finally finds them a place to eat, an area that seemed to be a bit secluded and didn't have as many people in the area. Valerie and Clockwork sit down at a semicircle shaped booth several feet behind a case of glass holding cups with plants in. Clockwork slides in the booth first, Valerie slides in next and sets the food on the table. Opening the bag, she pulls out the Clockwork's food along with some ketchup and honey mustard packets and gives it to them.

Clockwork pulls their fries and nuggets close, dips some fries in the ketchup and sticks them in their mouth. "Thank you!" they say happily, swinging their feet as they continue to eat. Valerie doesn't say anything back, opting to open her chicken sandwich and taking a bite out of it.The two children  eat in silence-rather, Clockwork talks about whatever crosses their mind, while Valerie occasionally nods along and asks a question or two of her own. She ignores that little feeling in that chest from earlier as she listens to Clockwork talk, as she's certain that it's just some weird pain in her chest or stomach that'll go away.

Valerie finishes eating about twenty minutes later and puts her trash in the white paper bag. Clockwork notices her, looking up at her, "Did you want to see more of Rome?" they ask, "There's a shopping district a few streets away, if that's what you're into." 

She doesn't say anything as she grabs a napkin, folds it in half and reach out to the little Time Master's face to wipe off the remaining honey mustard and ketchup from the corners of their mouth. With her other hand, she feels Clockwork's hair, gently patting the top and middle parts of their hair, rubbing the curls between her fingers to truly feel it, and pulls her hands away from them with a smile. "I'll take a raincheck for that," she says with a smile, gently tapping their nose,  grabbing their trash and tossing it in the trashcan next to  the table. "But we need to go back home, I have to show you something." 

Clockwork tilts their head before nodding. The seven year old snakes their hand into Valerie's, tightly clasping their hands together, scrunching their eyes close and before Valerie knows it, the two are back in her kitchen. 

"How'd you do that?" she asks, "Last time, you needed a portal."

Clockwork shrugs, "I dunno? You said we had to go home," they say, "This is home."

Oh. Valerie isn't quite sure how to feel about that admission, and she has a lot of feelings about the way Clockwork easily and honestly calls  this house, where she lives, home. So she'll bury them for right now, maybe unpack them later, maybe ask her dad about these emotions. She senses that Clockwork is staring at her, realizing that she spaced out, plasters a wide smile on her face to make up for it. Valerie covers their eyes, shushing their protest when she walks them over to the bathroom and stops in front of the mirror. 

Slowly, she lowers her hands from their eyes, watching with joy as Clockwork stops their protesting to stare at themselves in the mirror. Valerie moves behind them, fluffing their curls up a bit, so they can be at full volume. "Do you like it?" she asks, "Be brutally honest, Clockwork."

Clockwork stands there in shock, a hand reaching up to tug at one of the curls at the edge of their forehead. "It's so pretty," they say in awe, then noticing Valerie standing behind them. "It can't be mine. There's no way this can belong to me." 

"Yea, it is." she says simply, shifting her weight to one side of her body and leaning against the bathroom door. 

For the second or third time that day, Clockwork cries. Valerie bends down a little bit, right until the two were eye level and pulls  Clockwork in for a hug. She feels them trying to hide in her neck but she shakes her head, gently guiding their head to look in the mirror, "Every single strand of hair belongs to you," she says, wiping away their tears. "I know you don't believe me, but your hair is so beautiful. I meant what I said earlier, I'll keep doing your hair as long as you want me to."

"You mean that?"

Valerie nods, "I meant every word I said."

"Can you…?" they begin, but they go quiet, still unable to ask the question. 

"Yea," she answers, pressing a kiss on their forehead. "Come back next week, okay?"

"Okay." Clockwork says. 

[tempthornton]

The Bells

The trip to the graveyard was getting easier for Temperance. She knew which roads to take, who to stop and speak to when she passed them by. No longer lost or confused she knew who she was looking for. When some people went to see their family, they must think of charming homes that smell like a well-lived life. Temperance knew seeing family smelled like the dead.

The graveyard was still as she started to enter. Her mind wanted to be pulled out of her body, to commune with the spirits that were there, but this time she resisted. The graveyard was well kept but she could feel the dead that was lingering. For some reason, the dead were lingering more than they should. Something had changed, but Temperance didn’t know what.

“You be looking in better shape than ye did before.” The ghost of her ancestor walked out from behind a monument. Temperance wondered if he was feared when he was alive. He was a tall large man, like some Kul’Tirans, she even had to look up to meet his eye.

“I am. I found the thing that was hunting me. It was trying to protect me.”

‘Actually it was trying to protect me, but we won’t go into semantics.’ Son’Ispa muttered.

“Aye? Well, that’s good. Ye got better clothes now, look more well-fed.” He moved closer and a specter finger poked her, he felt like a shock of cold as he made contact. 

Temperance jumped but smiled, the spirit didn’t threaten her and she wondered if he had done something similar in life. “Yes, Son’Ispa and her mate have been taking care of me as I find out what I want to do with my life.”

“An’ what ye be wanting?” Brutus smiled with a twinkle in his eye. Maybe they were more related than she thought. For a necromancer, he didn’t look angry or intimidating.

“I want to learn more about the necromancy you brought to the family. I summoned a soul... I had to when I was trying to find out who was hunting me, and when I finally returned him I felt better.” She shivered and looked around the graveyard, feeling the dead who were lingering. “There are a lot more dead reappearing. I was looking through the spellbook, but it mentioned something about bells with all the necromantic spells that are in there.”

Brutus blinked like he didn’t get what she was saying, but his expression jumped to a smile. “Aye, I almost forgot about those old things. Ye know when yer dead as long as I, things just... become forgotten.”

“Are you in any pain?” Temperance asked, remembering what Laurent had said about the soul’s getting corrupted.

The large man waved a hand. “Nah child, nothing like that. I know if I was getting hurt or no.” He looked around the graveyard and nodded. “Yer gonna need a shovel.”

“Why?” 

The grin he wore, while his eyes carried joy, there was a sinister glint to his teeth. “Because you gotta get real up close to me. Gotta dig up me bones and take the bells of me body.”

Temperance’s body felt cold. She never thought she would be getting the bells from Brutus’s dead body. She thought he would explain what the bells were, not give him the ones he was buried with. “Are, are you sure? Aren’t they yours?”

“They were mine, in life. Not like I’m going to rise up from the dead and need ‘em again. It’s not goin’ to count as graverobbing if you have my permission.” He winked at her then pointed to a shovel that was resting by a tree. “Come on. Grab that, you’re the one with the physical body. Gotta put some work into it to get what you need.”

It had been hours. Temperance sat on the edge of the hole she was digging and felt like her back was going to start a rebellion. She didn’t know how much longer she had, but she was tired. Brutus watched humming an old sea shanty or telling her a story as she worked.

“How did you get your bells?” She asked. “Did you dig them up from your grandfather’s tomb?”

Brutus laughed and shook his head. “Nay, we had them made for me on my eighteenth birthday. When you get your own wee ones yer gonna need to find an enchanter and blacksmith who can help you make more of ‘em.”

Getting back to her feet Temperance started digging again. She had so many questions of what these bells were supposed to do. How did they work? Did her parents have bells or did the tradition get lost over the years? She was about to ask when she lifted up some dirt and saw bone. Bone didn’t look nice and bleach white, it was dirty, earthy.

“Aye, you found me hip, don’t worry about breaking it, it was shite when I was alive.” Brutus said looking into the hole. “The bells were buried on my right side, don’t think the leather will have survived but the bells should be good.”

She was starting to move dirt from the right side of where Brutus’s body was. Temperance tried to be careful of the bones. “I don’t want to hurt your remains.”

“Well thank you, but it’s not like I an’t fertilizer.” He commented above her. “Careful to not let them ring. They’re powerful things.”

The first of the bells she found was a large bell about the size of both of her firsts if they were together. The next smaller than that, and they continued to get smaller form there. The larger bells were made out of bronze, the medium ones are made of iron.

“Ye be careful with the little one. She’s small but she takes no prisoners.” Brutus instructed. The smallest bell he was referring to was no bigger than Temperence’s pinky, it was made of silver. If Temperance hadn’t known it was in the ground for who knows how long she would think it was brand new.

Carefully she stuffed eat bell with some cloth and would put them away. “Thank you, I don’t know what I’m going to do with all of these.”

“Yer gonna learn child.” Brutus looked down at his bones and then back to her. “Those bells are strong things, they are also the signature of my family's magic. Each one resonates with death in a different way. If a spirit is angry, you go with one of the bells, if it’s sad, another. You might have to mix them up. If you find something you can’t handle, that little one is your best friend but also worst enemy. It will remove all the necromancy in the area. It was the best against the Drust.”

After the last bell was away Temperance got out of the grave and looked down at her now ruined dress. “Alexander is not going to be happy.”

‘He won’t care, it means he can buy you another dress’ Son’Ispa whispered.

Brutus shrugged then nodded to the hole. “Before ye leave, don’t forget the hole. I don’t need no dogs digging me up and throwing me who knows where.”

Temperance's mind was with her bag as she filled the hole. Those bells might mean more powers, more strength than she had before. She still wanted to uncover her family's history, but she knew if she could master her ancestor’s spells she would be closer to finding out who she was meant to be.

((*Cackles* I’ve been wanting her to have these bells. With the new expansion coming with all the stuff of death going down, Temperance is going to be taking a page out of Garth Nix’s ‘Sabriel’ book. Cause playing a good necromancer just sounds amazing!))

[rogue-barnes-16]

SECRETS (part III/IV)

Summary: Detectives James Barnes and Y/n Y/l/n never really got along, despite being partners for seven months. You could say they hated each other, however, when James’ past shows up threatening to break him all over again, the truth about their feelings comes to the surface.

Pairing: cop!Bucky Barnes x cop!Reader

Genre: angsty (fluff in the end)

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @sinviix @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125

Warnings: angsty, language

A/N: *EDITED* It's finished babes.

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist (here you can find part I and II)

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

"Okay" Y/n muttered, more to herself than to me, while she opened her front door. "c'mon. Make yourself comfortable" she requested, closing the door behind us after I had stepped in.

Without any other word, she walked through the hall and dissappeared into one of the rooms. Since I didn't know what to do, nor were to go, I stood still and looked around, taking a moment to properly observe the apartment.

It was relatively small and a bit chaotic. None of the items seemed to have any connection, but then I started to see they all had a part of Y/n in them.

"told you to make yourself comfortable, didn't I?" I jolted at her voice suddenly breaking the peaceful silence while she walked towards me with a pillow and a folded blanket in her arms. "you should listen to me once in a while"

"I already did that today" I replied, following her to the couch in the living room where she was now sitting. "I agreed to stay with you. Didn't I?" I added the last part mocking her tone.

She rolled her eyes, the lightest ghost of a grin on her lips "You're a bit of a dumbass"

I shrugged and replied "not the worst thing that you called me."

It was meant to be a teasing comment, but, instead of giving me a snarky reply, she shifted uncomfortable in her seat. "Okay" she cleared her throat whilst rubbing her hands. "I'm going to sleep. If you need to go to the bathroom, it's" she got up "at the end of the corridor."

She made an attempt of saying something, but instead, she shut her mouth again and gave me a small smile.

And the saddest think about that smile was that I knew it wasn't genuine. I knew it was something else, something way worse.

"Y/l/n" she stopped walking and turned to me when I called her. "for fucks sake, don't pity me, okay?"

There was a beat of silence full of tension before she replied with a calm but almost offended voice. "I'm not pitying you" I scoffed. "Stop being so damn paranoid, Barnes."

I clenched my hands together, holding back not only the anger and the frustration, but also the pang of pain in my heart. "this was a bad idea."

" 'S better than let you spend the night on the break room's couch, though" she made a pause and added, "or in a random bar, getting blackout drunk."

"first thing tomorrow morning I'm looking for a fucking motel room" I hissed, violently throwing the pillow to one side of the couch before getting up to prepare the blanket she gave me. " 'cause if I gotta live with you for an entire week, I'm gonna lose it."

She scoffed "so am I" and, before I knew it, she was besides me, putting my hands away from the blanket to do it herself. "I can't fucking stand you either. But here I am, asking you to sleep in my couch for a damn week, well aware that I'll be wanting to kill you the second night" I swallowed, silently begging for her to shut up. "and you know why, smartass?" she pushed herself off the couch, standing on her feet right in front of me.

"fuckin' surprise me, darlin'." I managed to hiss in low voice, despise masking the spark of fear growing on my chest at the thought of how she could end the sentence.

Her lips pursed and her jaw clenched, and for a second I was terrified because fuck, deep down I knew that she could hurt me.

Badly.

Then her gaze softened very slightly and when she spoke, her voice was much calmer. "because I care"

Out of everything she could have replied, I would have never expected her to say that. It left me so shocked that I didn't even notice when she left.

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

I woke up, exhausted and sweaty, hyperventilating due to another bad dream that I had gotten used to during the last months.

After propping myself over my forearms, I saw Y/n with her arms crossed, leaning against the door frame of her room in a way that she had a perfect view of my shaky form.

"Christ" I cursed, letting myself fall on the couch with my hands covering my face. "What the hell, Y/n?" I asked, equally startled and ashamed.

"you alright?" she asked hesitant.

And why the fuck did she asked? Was that question really necessary? I mentally asked to myself.

I heard a couple of noises and when I removed my hands from my face, I saw her leaning over the coffee table to leave a glass of water and a cookie over it.

"try to rest. If you can't, wake me up and we'll work on the case" she whispered, letting her hand briefly squeeze my shoulder on her way out of the living room.

Before her fingers completely slipped off me, I held her hand for a second to stop her. " hey Y/n" She turned around and hummed, prompting me to talk. "can we work on the case now?" I asked quietly, not believing the stupidity I had just said. "just for a bit?"

She took a peek at the clock hanging onto the wall and sighed. "Sure. Just until you're tired again, though." Y/n said, going to her room to get, I assumed, the reports of the case that she kept in her house.

"Okay" I agreed, sitting up to leave her some room for when she came back. "thanks"

"whatever" she mumbled, sitting down besides me and leaving the folders over the coffee table. "anythin' to make you shut up for a bit." there was no bitterness in her voice when she spoke. "and for the record, I'm not pitying you, it's just that I'm... I don't know" she cleared her throat, relocating the folders even though didn't need to be relocated.

It was one of her nervous habits. To unnecessarily tide up things. Just like it was running a hand through her hair or rubbing her hands together.

"I know it doesn't make sense, but I wish I had noticed it earlier."

"there's nothing you could have done anyway" I tried to make it better, but apparently, I only made it worse.

"yeah I guess" she shrugged. "well never know" looking at me, she pursed her lips in a thin line and the corners of her mouth twisted up in a sad smile. "anyway, let's get to work"

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

READER'S P. O. V.

Everything went amazing during the first four days.

Instead of hating each other even more, our dynamics surprisingly change for better. The silent communication between us was now way more smooth and fluent; the teasing and taunting, even though it was still there, it had gotten considerably less aggressive and more playful.

It was the morning of the fifth day when everything went south.

I had fallen asleep on my bed with Bucky besides me, but when I woke up, he wasn't there.

That wasn't what worried me.

No.

No.

What worried me was the sounds that woke me up. I heard shouts coming from a female voice.

When I walked out of the room, I was met with that Dot girl pacing on my living room. "are you fucking serious right now, James?! Why would you do this to me?!"

For some reason, I felt the need to go to my room and grab my gun before confronting her in the living room.

So I did, because if she had managed to get in my apartment, then she was actually dangerous.

[hela-of-ren]

Spearmint: Part 2

Guess who’s back? Back again. How ya’ll doin?! I’ve decided that Friday is going to be the day for Spearmint and all your Clyde goodness! So much fluff is on the horizon guys, you’re gonna get cavities. Enjoy!! <3

Tagging: @kyloholic

You had been texting Clyde for the past few days, the two of you trying to settle on a day and time to go out. You could tell he was new to texting, but his use of emojis was adorable.

You giggled at the text he’d just sent you, practically picturing his deep brow furrowing in concentration as his fingers attempted to type on the small keys.

‘I get why these emoji things r so popular. Kinda like em.’

‘I can tell lol’

‘Wut does that mean?’

‘Laugh out loud, it’s a shorter way to say that you find something humorous instead of saying hahaha.’

‘Didn’t think there’d be so many new ways to communicate.’

You snorted and went to type a reply until your phone buzzed with an incoming call. It seemed Clyde was more comfortable talking to you than texting, something you admired in a person. With a smile, you answered.

“Am I already confusing you with my futuristic lingo?” You teased, hearing him let out a gruff chuckle in response.

“Still gettin use to it, never really needed a phone unless it was for family.” You smiled as he continued, “I was wonderin...the county fair is in town and I thought maybe I could take yah tonight...if you weren’t busy, that is!” His nervous rambling making your insides flutter some more.

He was good at that.

“I’d love to, Clyde.” You responded gently. You could practically feel his excitement and relief through the phone.

“G-great! I can pick you up at seven, if you’d like?” You laid back on our bed with a sudden thought.

You’d told Clyde about Lola in detail as the two of you had first starting texting, serving to peak his interest and excitement. Maybe he’d be okay with you picking him up and riding on the Chopper?

“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted me to pick you up on Lola? You’d have to ride behind me because I don’t let anyone drive her, but if that makes you uncomfortable we c-” Before you could finish rambling, Clyde cut in.

“That would be great! I’d love to meet her.” His enthusiasm was contagious.

“Okay! I’ll pick you up at seven, Handsome.” He sputtered a bit before replying.

“See yah then, Y/N.” With that you hung up and closed your eyes for a short nap, after all, you still had six hours before the fair.

You pulled up in front of Clyde’s home, taking in the trailer with appreciation. Your Pa had one that was similar, but a tad bigger. That and the pool you’d installed right behind the trailer for his birthday.

Pa always was a sucker for pools and hot tubs.

Hearing the rumbling of your Chopper, Clyde fixed his dark plaid shirt and tugged the sleeves down over his arms. He hadn’t talked to you about his missing limb yet and he didn’t want to scare you off in disgust. He left his trailer and locked the door before turning to see you.

You straddled Lola in a pair of tight blue jeans with some rips on the knees and thighs, a white crop top hugging your chest, and your signature leather jacket clinging to your arms and shoulders. The moment you removed your helmet and flipped your hair about, Clyde felt his heart skip a beat or two.

You were one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen.

You smiled and waved your hand in greeting, watching as he looked at and admired Lola. He reached out his hand in question and you nodded, letting him touch and stroke the flames on the sides as he knelt down.

“She’s a damn nice bike, gotta say I’m a bit jealous.” His deep voice washed over the rumble of the engine. He looked up at you with those deep, brown eyes of his and you had to calm the beating in your chest at the sight.

“Thank you, she’s one of a kind.” He stared at you for a few more seconds with nothing but the rumble of the engine sounding before speaking.

“She definitely is.” Somehow, you doubted he was talking about the bike. You blushed and gestured him onto the bike with a nod of your head, digging out one of the extra helmets you kept for your Pa.

He clasped the helmet onto his head and swung his long legs over Lola until he was seated behind you. His large arms wrapped around your waist in a snug hold as he seated his chin on your shoulder.

“Hang on tight, Handsome.” With that, you took off into the setting sun.

The fair was in full swing when you’d gotten there. Kids running on sugar highs littered the area as their parents struggled to carry any prizes or left overs as they chased after them. Clyde had won you a giant teddy bear by shooting all of the pop up clowns presented before him, proudly naming it Duck Tape to Clyde’s delight.

You’d gone on a few rides, some of which he waved to you from a far. Roller coasters set his stomach on edge. There was, however, one ride you had yet to go on and was vital to any fair experience.

“The Haunted House?” Clyde looked at you in confusion and a little bit of anxiety. You smiled brightly and nodded.

“It’s a classic, Clyde! C’mon, it’ll be fun!” You pouted and Clyde felt himself giving in. He didn’t like scary things, even less things that could pop out at him, but it seemed important to you so he nodded. “Yay!! Let’s go, Handsome; I’ll even hold your hand.” With that you grabbed his right hand and dragged him off.

The two of you had just fit inside the small cart, Clyde taking up the majority of it and forcing you to sit between between his legs and lean back into him. The cart moved slowly through the dark corridors, lights flashing every now and then to reveal skeletons and grave stones.

Sounds of moaning ghosts and screechy violins played over head mixed with rattling chains and whistling winds. You held lightly onto the bar in front of you as Clyde clutched tightly to your waist, clutching more and more with each monster that popped out at you.

You screeched in delight when a light spray of water hit you unexpectedly from the side accompanied by a hanging zombie from above. You giggled in delight until you felt something bury itself into your shoulder. You turned slightly to see Clyde’s face completely immersed into your hair, his arms completely around you and his body shaking.

“Clyde? Clyde, sweetheart?” You whispered in concern, beginning to stroke his arms lightly. He only shook more as another spray of air hit you, a warm, wet feeling beginning to run down your neck. You set your jaw and looked around quickly spotting an emergency exit.

You forced the bar of the cart with all of your might and turned to Clyde as much as you could.

“Clyde, honey, come on. We’re getting out of here.” You felt him immediately lift you up into his arms and sweep out of the cart, barreling for the exit with his head down. He busted open the door with his shoulder with a huff and ran out into the open until he found the side of the building, leaning heavily against it with you still in his arms.

He felt like the walls were closing in on him, every jump scare and shot of air brought him back to his time over seas, to the explosion that took his arm. The spray of water became hails of bullets and the monsters behind every corner had the faces of the enemy.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t-

“Clyde?” A gentle voice broke through his panic, “Clyde? Sweetheart, it’s okay. It’s over...” He swiftly turned his head to see you still in his arms, looking up at him with all the worry in the world. You could see the beginning of more tears welling up in his eyes, his face scrunching.

You immediately latched your arms around his neck and brought his head into your neck, one hand gently carding through his hair. He pressed himself further into you and wrapped his arms tightly around you, sobbing silently into your neck.

You didn’t know what prompted this, but you felt awful for taking him on the ride in the first place. He clutched you like a child would their favorite toy after a nightmare and for the first time you felt his arm dig in a way that didn’t feel normal. His sleeve had ridden up and exposed the prosthetic you had never noticed, the cold silicone pressing into your hip.

You squeezed your eyes shut as more guilt hit you. Whatever had happened to him likely linked with why he was so scared right now and it was your fault.

“I’m so sorry, Clyde. I should never have forced you to go on the ride, it’s all my fault I-” Before you could finish, he squeezed you tighter and shook his head in your neck.

“No! No, please, please, sweetheart...it ain’t your fault, I just-I can’t...” He could barely get the words out before you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, your hand holding the other side of his face up to your lips. After a few seconds you pulled away, his stunned eyes meeting yours.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” Your hand left his face and came down to lightly grasp his prosthetic arm, bringing it up to your lips for a gentle kiss. His lips parted in pure awe as you kept eye contact with him, his breathing becoming heavier.

You lowered his hand slowly, afraid you’d crossed some sort of boundary when he grasped the side of your face with his good hand and brought you into a fierce kiss, all lips and tongue in a desperate dance.

You whimpered and wrapped your arms back around his neck, hands tangling in his long hair. His good hand stayed on your face as the other wrapped itself tighter about your waist, dipping you slightly to deepen the kiss.

He nibbled gently on your bottom lip and slowly broke away, keeping his forehead connected to yours. He opened his eyes to see yours still closed, his heart beating even faster at the sight of your swollen lips and flushed cheeks. In that moment he couldn’t help himself as he began to litter kisses all over your face, your gentle laughter running through his bones and encasing him in safety.

[clarke-kom-eden]

I wrote something.... I'm scared! Here goes! Ahhhhh!!!!!

I have never written or posed a fic before, I just sort of, had an idea and went for it. It may be terrible, it probably is, but, im giving it a go! Post season 4, bellarke, follows canon, I think. Anything science ish is completely made up though! sorry if ive mis-tagged or anything, I really don’t know what I’m doing! Sorry for the accent. I felt he had an accent.

“Nevermind, I see you.”

If she was completely honest with herself, for the longest time now, Clarke had begun to feel like it would never happen. She had tried to stay hopeful, she really had, but with each passing day it became harder. Had they ever even made it to the ark? Had she spent the past 6 years talking to ghosts?

But here it was, reality, a ship. Until she really looked at it. She remembered talk of Becca testing nightblood on a mining colony, but the people out there were lost, and would have perished long ago, and weren’t they criminals?

Clarke waited back, shielding Madi, and watched as the crew of around 30 men left the ship. She saw as they basked in the sun, felt the drops of rain on their skin, touched the grass around them, and remembered when the Hundred had first landed on earth, filled with hope.

Clarke was unsure how to proceed. From what she had observed,they seemed like ordinary men, but they had been sent away for a reason, and abandoned in space for years, they could be dangerous. However, it was an incredibly small piece of earth to inhabit, and more than likely she and Madi would be discovered soon. Clarke decided she would rather be in control of the situation, and so, eyes sharp, weapon hot, made her approach.

“My name is Clarke Griffin,” she called from a distance,  “I wish to speak to whoever is in charge.”

An older man, with toughened skin and a greying beard took a few steps forward, keeping his hands raised.

“Well I’ll be damned. There really is someone living down here?!” He had an accent Clarke had only ever heard in an old western film she had once watched on the ark.

“More than one. Stay back.”

He stopped.

“Missy we don’t mean no harm or nothing, we just want to get our bearings. Are you from that there bunker she told us about.”

“ How do you know about the bunker?”

The man’s name was Thomas. He followed Clarke to another area while the rest of the men stayed with the ship.

“Start from the beginning.”

“Ok, but I gotta tell ya, I’m not even too sure myself of what’s  happening. I’m just a prisoner, trying make sense of all this.”

He gestured to everything around him.

“You see, I never really could hold my drink. It got me in trouble, well, I got me in trouble. Ended up hurting someone, more than I meant to. You could get a big ol’ reduction on your sentence if you agreed to do some, labour, they called it. Never mentioned much about radiation and injections and being put to sleep. Next thing we know we all wake up, look around the ship, there’s no one. No crew, no guards, just us prisoners all waking up. That’s when we hear someone trying to communicate with us, honest at first I thought it was the voice of God! Turns out she’s on a space station. Says her name’s Raven.”

At this, Clarke could not hold back her tears. It felt as if she had been holding her breath for years, as she finally let go. “Raven? She’s, alive, you spoke to her?”

“ She’s the one woke us up.” Clarke had too many questions, but all she could think to ask,

“did you talk to anyone else?”

“Yeah, there was a Monty too. Smart guy, couldn’t follow a lot of the tech talk but, I tried.” Clarke laughed, yeah, that sounded like Monty. “ Anyone else?”

“ Just those two, really. I’m guessing from your face that’s not the answer you wanted. I wish I could give you more, I’m sorry, it’s been a, well, a damn mess of a time.”

“I understand. So, are they coming down too, why aren’t they with you?”

“ That was the tricky part I’m afraid. See she explained she found us drifting, and that’s when we realised, well, we’d been asleep for gone a hundred years.” He shook his head, “ everyone we knew, our friends, family, all long gone.”

“I’m so sorry, that must have been a shock.”

“To say the least. Don’t think I even really believe it still, you know?” Clarke wasn’t sure how to respond. Ever since they’d been sent to earth it had felt like one shock after another, but to wake to find everything you’d ever known was gone, even with everything she had been through, that would have been unimaginable. Thomas took a deep breath and sat on a rock nearby.

“I’m sorry to press you Thomas, but I need to know about my friends.”

“Course you do. I’ll try n keep it short. Raven said they had been looking for a way to get back to earth, tryin to make fuel or something, but was havin trouble. Thought maybe they could use our ship, had no idea we were still in stasis. Anyways, she directed us to where they were, we were gonna take them on board, but there was a problem. Our airlock was completely ballsed up or something, no way to open her up in space without killing us all.” Clarke felt sick. So they were stuck, if they couldn’t make fuel, that’s it.

“ So that’s it, they’re stuck?”

“ I sure hope not. We had a few escape pods on our ship. She told us how to detach them, direct them toward their airlock. They all still had fuel in them. Not real sure what she’s planning,but they might still have a chance.”

Finally, for the first time in a long time, Clarke’s hope felt real. This was Raven, she could do it.

Clarke had tried every thing she could think of, but she just couldn’t make it work. She threw the tools across the room with as much force as she could muster, narrowly missing Andrew.

“ Clarke, I told you, Raven said most likely once we landed we wouldn’t be able to communicate with the ark anymore.”

She knew this, of course she did, but what else could she do? She had been trying to communicate with them for 6 years. It was her way of staying sane, she couldn’t just stop now, she had to keep trying.

“ Anyway, they’ll be here soon. I’m sure of it!” Andrew was one of the most optimistic people she had ever met, it was impossible to stay mad around him. He was just 18 when he had been put into stasis, although he seemed younger still, and was so skinny he really brought out Clarkes maternal side. Madi had also taken a real shine to him, though as Clarke kept reminding her she was much too young and he was a criminal! Clarke had begun to spend more time with the prisoners over the past few weeks, but still kept herself and Madi at a distance. She had tried to get an idea of the various crimes these men had committed, but as she had no way of knowing the truth, she just had to trust what they told her. Although, in Andrews case, she really felt like he had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Well, she hoped. Three weeks had passed and still no sign of them, and the prisoners wanted to focus on getting to the bunker. With their mining equipment, they should finally be able to dig the others free, but it was taking time to get the equipment back to working order, as it had been dormant for over 100 years. Clarke knew this should be her focus too, she was desperate to see her mother, but she couldn’t take her mind off of them, up there, alive. She knew that the bunker had only had enough oxygen for 5 years, knew that difficult decisions would have been made, her head should be underground, but her heart was in the stars. She thought of what she would say to him, she thought of the last time he held her. As she picked up the tools scattered around her and calmed herself once more, she heard distant excited shouts.

She stood slowly, as Madi came bounding in. She didn’t even speak, just gave Clarke the biggest smile and reached out her hand. Clarke took it and followed Madi outside, legs shaking with each step. She watched as the rocket she had waited for crash landed into the ocean.

“Well, let’s go get yer friends.” Thomas walked out in front of Clarke and towards the sea.

With every step closer to the crash site Clarke got faster and faster, until she was running so fast that Madi could no longer keep up. She stopped when she realised she had been dragging the poor girl. “Clarke, it’s ok” Madi let go of her hand, “you go, I’ll follow” Clarke nodded, and started running again, no longer feeling the ground beneath her, no longer feeling her own breathing, just running. She ran until she was waist deep in the water. The hatch of the shuttle was just beginning to open, and someone climbed out. They reached back into the shuttle to pull someone else out. One by one they all emerged from the rocket. Clarke stood and watched, silently. She meant to shout, to move, but she was frozen. She watched them help each other down and splash into the water, she watched them help each other swim towards the shore the opposite side of the bay from her, still unaware of her presence.

Finally, they began to remove their helmets. First she saw Murphys face, same smug grin as ever, as he helped Emori off with her helmet. They still looked as in love as she remembered. They all now faced away from her, looking toward the trees. Then she saw him. He ran his hand through his unruly curls and dropped his helmet on the ground. The group all spoke amongst themselves, but he separated himself and walked around a little. Then, finally, he turned to look back across the water. He stopped dead. For what felt like forever, they stared at each other. They were still a fair distance apart. He began to move back towards the water. Clarkes feet finally began to work. She moved deeper into the ocean until she could no longer stand. She tried to swim as best she could, but had never really done it before. She kicked and splashed but got nowhere. Her head dipped below the water. Suddenly, she felt strong arms around her, bringing her back up, carrying her to shore, laying her down on the beach.

“Are you trying to drown yourself, you can’t swim!” she coughed and spluttered and clung to his arms, digging her fingers into his suit. He pushed the hair from her face, then pulled her to him and squeezed her so tightly her ribs hurt, his face buried into her neck.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t, I don’t know, I, just…” she couldn’t finish. She had no answer, her mind had switched off and her body had taken over. He enveloped her entirely, as she wrapped her arms around his back, and cried.

“I left you.”

“you had no other choice!” Clarke finally loosened her grip on him, he pulled back slightly to look at her.

“Are you real?” He asked, as he studied her face. She nodded and laughed. He pulled her in again, this time more gently, and held her. She began to shiver, the water had been cold. “God, Clarke you’re freezing,” he rubbed up and down her arms.

“I don’t care”.

“ Clarke?” It was Raven. Bellamy and Clarke suddenly remembered they weren’t alone. He helped her up, as Raven threw her arms around her, followed by Monty, all the while Bellamy kept his arm around her waist.  Finally, the cold began to get to her,

“We should head back to camp, I’m assuming you probably want something to eat that’s not algi?” At this Murphy jumped in, “Clarke, please tell me you have something meat based? Anything. Honest to god I’ll eat rat right now”

“Just, head that way.” Clarke pointed towards the trees, just as Madi, Thomas and a few others appeared. “Raven, you know Thomas”

“It’s good to meet you in the flesh.”

“I knew you’d make it down, never had a doubt”.

Madi greeted Clarke with a hug and eyed up Bellamy.

“He looks just like your drawing.”

“My drawing? Clarke has drawings of me?”

“Yes. I know all about you. You’re Bellamy.” at this Bellamy raised an eyebrow.

“I, mentioned you, a couple of times. Madi is a nightblood, I found her, alone, after praimfaya, I’ve been teaching her. Your name has come up a few times.” Bellamy smirked, that same way he used to when he’d call her princess. “Madi, could you lead the way back to camp?” Madi looked like she wanted to say more, but did as Clarke asked. They started the walk back, Raven and Thomas in deep discussion, Monty and Harper talking with Andrew, Murphy and Emori keeping together, Echo staying close by them. Clarke and Bellamy fell to the back of the group.

“Clarke,” he said her name in that same deep voice that she had longed for, and it almost felt as if the last 6 years hadn’t happened,

“I still can’t believe you’re alive. You saved us, again, and I, just, left you.”

“Bellamy, I meant what I said. You did the right thing. I’m so glad you went, I told you to go, over the radio. If you hadn’t, you’d be dead, and we wouldn’t be here now. Together.” she reached for his hand. As he locked his fingers with hers, he repeated her words,

“Together”.

[imperialotakubot]

PENO Prototype Transcript 2

(We start with BabyDoll searching for more clues on you-know-who’s whereabouts in the lush, green forest of Tir na nOg)

BabyDoll:Once I know where you are, Charlemangled Chartangled, you’ll never make a monkey out of anyone again!

(She then sets foot on four apple trees making up the entrance to a community park filled with the strange, beautiful residents of the fair land)

BabyDoll: Eh, I’ll take a break for a bit.

(She strolled through the scene of happy folks having a good time as the sun shined upon her)

BabyDoll: *In her head* So warm….

(A blue monarch butterfly landed on her red hair)

BabyDoll: *Looks up* Hello!

(She attempted to pick it up buuut it flew away)

BabyDoll:*Smiling*…Bye.

(She walked over to a bench…but it fell apart!)

BabyDoll: *Gets off the broken bench* Oops!!

(Suddenly, another girl who looked much different than BabyDoll [donning brunette hair in a bun, puffy cheeks, beady eyes and a frillier dress] saw BabyDoll’s dilemma and turned her head to see a buff, tomboyish girl with her head in a ponytail, a flannel shirt and messy jeans with a toolbox in one of her hands walking over to the bench~ she had a name tag that said “Nicole”)

???: What a calamity, I gotta tell that poor painter about what happened! *Runs to the latter*

Nicole: Sorry toots, I have no time to be chit-chattin’ because my lunchbreak is over and I gotta finish workin’ on my bench.

???: My name is actually Dewdrop… but some girl sat on it and broke it!

Nicole: ….Who was the punk who did that!?

BabyDoll: *Seeing the not-so-friendly stranger* Oh, caps!!

Dewdrop: It was a girl w-with long red hair and a white dress!

Nicole: Well then, I’ll have to teach her a lesson she’ll never forget~ glad I got my brass knuckles sharpened yesterday!

(BabyDoll ran and ran until she saw a nice boutique)

BabyDoll: Glad I found all those shiny coins in the lake while searching for Charlemagne earlier, let’s get me some duds to disguise me!

(She ran in as fast as she could)

BabyDoll: Woah…..surface clothing is super frilly!

(She came across a pink sailor lolita dress with white frills and teal ribbons)

BabyDoll: Perfect!

(The nice person, with ”Ray” on they’re name tag, who ran the store came up to her and offered her some matching shoes and two pairs of stockings with her purchase)

Ray: These go with the outfit and are free of charge, Madame!

BabyDoll: Ohhhh those~ what are the called?

Ray: *Tilts head* Shoes and stockings?

BabyDoll: Terribly sorry, I’m a mermaid so I don’t know much about the surface yet.

Ray: Understandable! :)

BabyDoll: Say, are you a hair stylist?

Ray: *Another head popped up and replied to her* You bet!

(And so~ after paying the fellow…s?, BabyDoll left with her new look [the dress/stockings/shoes and a short haircut with odangos], happy that the angry woman won’t bat an eye at her)

BabyDoll: I’m safe….for now.

(Meanwhile….)

Nicole: Where the heck is she!? 

Dewdrop: I don’t know.

Nicole: Have anymore details about the little skunk?

Dewdrop: She had red hair and dark sea-green eyes.

Nicole: Good, let’s hunt ourselves a benchwarm-er, breaker….yeah that’s sounds just about right! >:3c

(She spots BabyDoll whistling down the street, minding her own business)

Nicole: Ha, speak of the devil.

(She pulled out her paintbrush, turned it into a giant paint ball GUN and jumped out of the trees, surprising BabyDoll)

BabyDoll: GYAAHH!!! H-how did you f-find me??

Nicole: A little birdie told me.

???: *Tweet*!

(Nicole turned around and saw a bird’s nest on her other shoulder)

Nicole: Enough of the terrible puns, TIME TO PAINT THE TOWN RED!

BabyDoll: It’s more of a village than a-

Nicole: I SAID ENOUGH OF THE TERRIBLE PUNS.

(Nicole started shooting paint balls at BabyDoll, who was running for her life as the little bird flew to Dewdrop, whom started petting it)

BabyDoll: You better not stain my brand-new dress, you big brute!

Nicole: It’ll only make us even, meatball head!

BabyDoll: Hold up just one second!

(They stopped)

BabyDoll: I have superpowers!

Nicole: …You? superpowers?

(Nicole gave our heroine a hearty laugh as Dewdrop and the bird couldn’t help but giggle)

Nicole: Prove it then, squirt!

(BabyDoll flies over to Nicole and gives her a great big punch in her stomach)

Nicole: OOF!

BabyDoll: How was it?

Nicole: *Lifts her midriff to reveal a tiny crack above her navel* Oh, you’re good….try on this for size! *she makes a giant paint bubble with her gun* Wait for it….

(Dewdrop and the bird hid behind her just in case)

BabyDoll: *Sarcastically* What could be worse than a giant paint bubble!? *laughs until it literally blew up in her face*

Nicole: Both of us getting covered in permanent paint.

BabyDoll: …….I’m sorry I sat on your bench, I didn’t know it wasn’t finished yet.

Nicole: And I’m sorry I scared you.

BabyDoll: Truce?

Nicole: Truce~ shake on it.

(They shook hands)

BabyDoll: Now how about we find a way to get this paint off?

Nicole: No-can-do, kid, this stuff is permanent…..unless we acquire a sacred jewel to magically get it off of us, that is.

BabyDoll: Magic jewel? pfft, so cliche.

Nicole: Which to you prefer, wise-woman~ tropes or the fact that that’s stuff’s gonna stick to your skin ‘till death?

BabyDoll: *Shocked Hachune Face*…..The former, please.

Dewdrop: Ooh! ooh! I know where a magic jewel is….

(We cut to Dewdrop leading the two to a cave in the middle of the woods)

BabyDoll: Wow.

Nicole: It’s deeper than I’ve imagined….

(They walk right in)

Nicole: Does someone have a flashlight with them?

(BabyDoll went out of the cave, grabbed a branch and lit it on fire with her laser vision)

Dewdrop: Ooh~

Nicole: Sweet.

(BabyDoll led the way with her makeshift torch, revealing a site of a baroque-style palace in ruins and swarmed with climbing rose vines and a swarm of butterflies, the same type as the one we saw earlier)

All: Woah!

BabyDoll: Who could abandon something like this?

Dewdrop: I wonder if a princess dwells here?

Nicole: Or some old geezer and his nephews looking for some treasure inside~

(BabyDoll sees a shadow luring around in the windows)

BabyDoll: *In her head* Charlemagne! *voice* I think there’s someone I’m looking for in the window!

Nicole: Yo, is it a ghost?

(Dewdrop gets scared and hides behind Nicole as the trio walk into the palace ruins)

BabyDoll: No, worse, a thief known as Charlemagne Chartreuse!

Nicole: ….Him, huh?

BabyDoll: You know about him, too?

Nicole: Beaver’s dam forward, you’re correct! The rattlesnake robbed me of my authentic platinum paint!

Dewdrop: I saw him once, I told on him for stealing the Meridian Clan’s grand chocolate cake but when he was caught, he flew out of site with the cake~ I was made to look out for him.

BabyDoll: Me, too….something tells me we’d make a great trio.

Nicole and Dewdrop: ….You think?

Dewdrop: Oh girls, oh girls~ I found the jewel!

Nicole and BabyDoll: Yes!

(Suddenly, the shadowy figure from earlier swipes the jewel)

BabyDoll, Dewdrop and Nicole: Oh no, you don’t!

(The girls catch up on the stranger through out the halls of the ruins)

Nicole: Give me back my freaking paint you shady, all-take-and-no-give NERD!

Dewdrop: Did you save me any chocolate cake?

BabyDoll: I gotta speed things up from here, literally!

(BabyDoll sped up like a bolt of lightning and tackled the stranger~ in the darkness the two kicked and punched each other while they slowly skid across the balcony, moonlit through a large hole in the cave with a nice view of a waterfall, too!)

BabyDoll: *Taking off the stranger’s hat and scarf* At last! I finally caught you red-handed, Charlemagne- WHO THE HECK ARE YOU!?

(In the moonlight, the stranger was not Charlemagne Chartreuse, but a figure who was taller, lankier and a tad bit more boyish-looking than the short, pudgy and feminine BabyDoll)

???: I don’t know who you are either but….you’re so adorable….

BabyDoll: Gee um….thanks?

(Nicole and Dewdrop catch up)

Nicole: You caught him?

BabyDoll: Nope….

Dewdrop: That’s not Charlemagne….that’s my long lost partner, Matsuko!

???: It’s not Matsuko anymore….I am the Great Marionette, Monarch of the Butterflies and thanks to you, Dewdrop, for tattling on me for using the royal wine for magic~ I have to hide in the shadows away from the world forever so I won’t get in even more trouble!

Dewdrop: Matsuko, walk out of these shadows and return home, it’s the right thing to do.

Marionette: Impossible girl, I can never go back facing Petal and Snively in my current form….or the fact that they know I transformed into this with their wine of all things! See this treasure in my hand, Dewdrop?

Dewdrop: That’s the one that makes paint come off!

Marionette: BAKA! This gem is not for paint removal~ it’s my only view of the outside world….my crystal prism ball with internet access...and now you want to take my last two pieces of happiness away from me…the ball AND my title! How could you be so selfish, Dewdrop?!

Dewdrop: It will be alright!

Marionette: LEAVE ME ALONE YOU LITTLE-!!

BabyDoll: Say, Marionette?

Marionette: *Turned her head to BabyDoll, sparkly eyes and a more innocent look and tone of voice* …..W-what is it?

BabyDoll: ...Since you use magic, do you know a solution to get this paint off of me and Nicole over here?

Marionette: *Smiling, ruffling BabyDoll’s hair* Yes love, as a matter of fact, I do….hey, are you still damp?

BabyDoll: Nope, all dried up.

Marionette: *Relieved* Thank goodness, because I didn’t wanna stain my clothes.

(We cut to Marionette making up a potion of metal dust and lemon tree leaves and pouring tiny drops onto BabyDoll and Nicole’s heads, chipping all the paint off of them)

BabyDoll and Nicole: We’re cured! :D

BabyDoll: Sorry about the ruckus there…

Marionette: I’m sorry, too.

(The two shook on it)

Nicole: All’s well it ends well~ let’s go back to doing our business.

(The three left the ruins and the cave with Marionette waving back)

Marionette: Come back anytime!

BabyDoll: Later!

Nicole: So long!

Dewdrop: Bye~ I can’t wait to tell the other Meridians about what I read in your spellbook!

Marionette: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!

(To be continued….?)