Controlling Novels & Stories

" Finally, I can get to see some emotion on his face. He looks sorry but I can tell he is still angry. Is the anger directed at me? That, I can't tell but if it is, he is doing one hell of a great job in restraining himself from busting. We talked for a while, even though we are still both very angry, we still talked out our problems and try to move on. That is how it has always been for us. Yesterday's problem has never affected our today. We have a way of sorting our problems but that is only possible because we communicate well.

His voice was roughened with raw desire but there was restraint in it too. He slowly pulled back and clasped my hands in his. His touch was gentle, steadying, and full of warmth. “Juno, hear me,” he started again. “The weapons we bought at the Black Market — they’ll help, but they’re not what will save you. The most powerful weapon anyone can have is control. You must retain control over your desires, their fears, your thoughts, your actions, and even your emotions.”

The ice cream bowl slid across the table toward Leo. “Eat,” he encouraged gently. Leo stared at it. Didn’t touch it. The room seemed to freeze as if waiting for someone to make the wrong move. “You see,” the Chairman continued, finally looking at me, “this is what control looks like. There's no need for the shouts or violence to make one act. All you need is just ….inevitability.” My fingers curled into fists. “You’re a coward,” I spat. “Hiding behind children. When will you ever stop?”

Nothing left to control. Only one thing remained. The move that decided everything.

"Yes. Use that on me." I shut my eyes tightly, cursing under my breath. One would think having a younger mate meant having more restraint and authority, but I was completely under Adeline's control. Everything about her seemed to make me doubt myself. My control, my principles. Everything was bullshit when she was close to me. I then showed her the other item—a small remote control. "With this, I can control the intensity to whatever level I feel like." Her expression changed now. There was a hint of fear, but still not enough to change her mind.

"What will you do, Vessel? Silence me?" "No." My hands are steady. My voice isn't. "Just this ." I reach out—not to destroy, not to end —and press two fingers to the center of their smoke-shrouded chest. A single, precise point of negation. Not their power. Just their control over it. The effect is instant. The warlord chokes, their flames stuttering. The careful lines of fire waver, then collapse into chaos. Not gone. Just... wild. Unfocused.

Daniil added beside me The analyst glanced between us, then back to his screen, realizing what we were about to attempt Ivan’s expression remained focused, but there was now something else beneath it Anticipation Because he understood we were about to challenge the system at its core I looked at the feed, directly into the unknown observer “Control only works when decisions are isolated,” I said, “but when decisions are shared, control becomes influence, and influence can be resisted” The interface flickered again This time not in disruption, but in response

“…if you push the system harder, you risk accelerating the transition.” Evelyn didn’t look away from Damian. “Or we take control of it before it finishes.” A beat. “Victor.” “I’m here.” “I need everything routed through him.” Silence. “…you’re serious.” “Yes.” “That’s not a stabilization protocol.” “I know.” “It’s a control override.” “Then do it.” A pause. Not hesitation. Calculation. Then Victor moved. Fast. Systems unlocking deeper than before, rerouting command structures, shifting authority from automated control to something more volatile.

I have to fight the sudden urge to shudder. “Go again,” he says, his hands remaining in place. As much as I want to spite him, I again start lifting the weights, but this time, Kane holds my body in place. “Slower,” he orders. Again, I follow his directions, my arms easily growing sore from the movement. However, it’s a good burn. Or maybe that’s just the heat of his hands that are still on me. “It’s about control,” he tells me. “Not about how much weight you can lift, but how well you can control it as you lift and release.”

"Tobias, you have been here less than two months. You cannot expect perfect control yet." "I ought to be in greater control than this. For twenty years, I have been repressing my strength. I ought to be able to put an end to it." Control and suppression are not the same thing. Suppression is similar to using your bare hands to keep a dam closed. Eventually, your grip fails. Control is learning to open the dam gradually, direct the water where you want it to go." He looked at me finally. "What if I never learn? What if I am always going to be one bad moment away from killing someone?"