A writing request from Tumblr (from an anon so I can't say who specifically).
~CWA
The request:
Can you write a fic please in which Clockwork is the Grimm Reaper?
Title: Hourglass of Life
Summary: AU- Clockwork had a tough job, taking the lives of those whose time had come. The mortals called him the Grimm Reaper.
Genre: Mystery/Drama
Rated: K+
Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim Danny Phantom

Hourglass of Life:

He appeared from a portal in the shadows, startling the little four-year-old girl who was quivering in her bed. His cloak moving slightly in an unfelt wind. His face was concealed by the hood, but the cloak was opened, revealing the ticking cloak inside the glass case that was in his chest.

She looked at him with wide eyes before pulling the covers over her head. She was shaking, crying, and sniffling. The room was filled with trashcans, used tissues, and blankets. Clockwork tried his best to not show any emotion as he went over to the bed. He gently tapped on the big bulge under the blanket- the girl. As soon as he touched her with the tip of his staff, she was instantly calmed. She poked her head out from under the blankets. As Clockwork moved away from the bed, the girl got up, grabbing her favorite stuffed animal to hold. She wasn't sure who the strange man was, but she felt safe. She felt peaceful. She didn't even look back for if she did, she would have seen her body laying in the bed.

Clockwork held the staff with one hand, but he held out his other hand. The little girl grabbed his hand and he led her through the portal in the shadows just as her bedroom door opened.


Clockwork, known to the mortals as the Grimm Reaper, twirled his staff lazily as he stared upon the thousands- the millions- of sand hourglasses that lined up on the seemingly endless shelves. Each glass stood for someone's life. Some had just started to drop the small specks of sand, while others were almost done. Some were larger than others, having more time than other mortals. Some were cracked from near death experiences. Some were black, a symbol of their darker souls. Some were almost white, being so pure that their good soul shined. Some of the hourglasses were dirty from sins and others were clean- though they never stayed clean for long. Everyone sinned eventually. It was bound to happen. Every hourglass had a small plaque below it saying the owner's name. Of course he would know their name anyway, the plaques were more for decoration.

He got up from his seat and took a stroll down the endless hall. He looked at each hourglass carefully. One brief touch would be all it would take for him to see their lives- from birth to death. He would know every lie, every love, every failed test, every proud accomplishment, and even every secrets- everything. When he got bored, he would occasionally brush his fingertips against the top of them, making sure to focus his energy on it so he would get only glimpses of their lives. He made a point to not know their entire life until their time was up.

A small ding filled the room, followed by another, the another, and then another. Every ding was from every hourglass that just ran out- every death. Clockwork sighed as more dings filled the room.

Must be another tragedy- hurricane most likely, there's been a lot of them recently.


Many people die every day around the globe (in the U.S. ninety-nine teenagers died every day). Some died from disease. Some died from a car accident. Some died in a terrible murder. Some died from suicide. They all had their own cause of death, but it was his job to receive each one when it was their time. If he didn't have his powers over time then it would have been impossible to get them in time. Of course, one would think it would be a good thing- if he got someone late. Then they would live their lives, cheating death, right? Wrong.

For the people that died in a terrible way, how long would they have to suffer? Would one want them to suffer for hours, possibly days, to just maybe finally greet death? Besides, there had to be a balance and he was the way to keep the balance. Even if it meant taking the lives of children who died too young.

Children are the easiest, Clockwork thought, they calm down once I use my powers… Adults are harder to fool- most of them are so hung onto denial that it's a miracle they aren't ghosts.

He floated down the hall yet again. But everyone has a limit. It took what seemed like hours before he reached the lowest level at the very end. The largest hourglass stood there, taking up a good portion of the wall, weighing possibly tons. It was different from the others. It wasn't smudged. It wasn't cracked. The sand seemed to be transparent, barely even visible to his eyes. A small speck of sand fell to the bottom of it. At the bottom, a shiny gold plaque read, Charles Worth- Clockwork. He smiled slightly.

Ah yes, everyone has their time.