#fun fact this is not what was originally planned

[itsmemuffy]

When I published my first post, wanted to keep the momentum going. It was my goal to post weekly and well.... it's been two weeks ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I abandoned all my little drabbles to focus on a full-length fic that is becoming waaay longer than I anticipated. Thought I'd post a little WIP Wednesday to make sure I don't go back into the ether. Can't wait to have this one finished, I've been having a lot of fun writing it.

Contents: Original Trilogy! Logan x fem reader, naive reader, obsessive Logan, suggestive content, Charles makes an appearance

Summary: You keep everything running as smooth as possible in the background while Professor Xavier keeps a very full plate of locating mutants, running the school, and leading the X-Men. A steady stream of mutants come and go through the mansion, but a certain one in particular makes it his mission to nestle his way into your life.

The past few days had been a whirlwind for Logan. He's the type of man that goes where he wants to go- and waking up in an infirmary on a small hospital cot after being round up like some sort of animal was not on his list of things to do that week, to say the least.

For all intents and purposes, his next plan of action was to get away from here as soon as he possibly could and get back to the life he lived on his own terms. His only home and form of transportation was totalled somewhere in the Alaskan wilderness, sure, but he already had experience starting over from nothing.

When he first met you, a cute little thing diligently running errands to what was perhaps the one man who could have his answers, you immediately piqued Logan's interest. So sweet and so kind, and Charles put his trust in you?

He had barged in like he owned the place on you and the professor scheduling out the upcoming semester in his office. Charles appeared to have already gotten used to this type behavior from him. "This, my dear, is Logan. He will hopefully be joining us now."

Oh... so is he planning to stick around? You ponder as you bite the inside of your cheek, leaning onto Charles' desk with your hip. Logan immediately came off as brooding and dismissive, and he didn't seem like the type to settle into a place beaming with so much activity. Regardless, you extended your hand out to him as you told him your name.

It took him a second to register the gesture. He only now noticed how lost in thought he was, eyes caught below your neckline. With a clearing of his throat, Logan reached a hand back to you to shake it. The most formal of ways to greet someone, yet the feeling of your delicate fingers grasping his rough palm caused his mind to wander again. He forced himself back to reality.

"I guess I'll be seeing you around" Logan remained aloof in speech, hoping you didn't notice the way he devoured you with his gaze. He decided to promptly remove himself from the room, searching for the privacy to be alone with his thoughts.

A few interactions after your initial introduction, Logan started to feel something beyond sexual curiosity. You made his heart race, you made him nervous.

Not a single detail went unnoticed by Logan. The way your hips would sway, how you parted your hair, the lipstick you wore, the softness in your voice whenever you greeted him, your scent.

Life kept throwing change in Logan's way, morphing his way of living into something unrecognizable to him. For the last however many years (boy, is he ever bad at keeping track of time) he had filled them with isolation and taking whatever cheap pleasures he could find. Now he finds himself surrendering the space in his mind to a woman he barely knew. You brought warmth and light into a cold, dark place.

No, this wont fly, he thought to himself. The fact that he was losing control over the dynamic between you made him very uncomfortable. Logan made it his mission to learn more about you. If he could just figure you out, he could take the reins over again.

The two of you would always acknowledge eachother in a group setting. The tiny smile Logan would throw your way whenever you caught eyes made you weak. You couldn't help but to want to know more about him too. A rugged man who was a stranger not too long ago was showing you consideration? A man who nobody knows where he's been, what he's done, how old he is? It kind of racked your brain, but you tried not to let it trip you up.

Oh, but he would catch you trip up. It wasn't lost on Logan the times you entered a space with him in it, seemingly to forget what you came in there for. Maybe you were a little ditzy- your mind often racing too fast that you couldn't catch up with yourself, but it had happened too many times for it to be a coincidence. At least, that's what he told himself.

He replicated your behavior, scouting you out amongst the mansion. It wasn't hard for him to find you. Your trail had become so much bolder to his senses, overshadowing anybody else that could be in vicinity.

Logan always found what he was looking for. Excuse after excuse slipped easily from his lips. Obvious to everyone else what he was doing, you earnestly took the bait every time without fail. He marked the first time he had a conversation with you alone as a significant victory.

"Hey, didn't see you there. Have you seen Charles around? I need to talk to him." He had cornered you in the library, watching you read for a minute or two before making his presence known.

You flinched up in your chair, "Jesus Logan, don't sneak up on me like that!" The yelp that initially left your lips was definitely a sound he would remember next time he's alone.

"Sorry, doll. Didn't mean to scare ya," he chuckled.

The upset you felt towards him for breaking your flow state lasted but half a second. You couldn't be mad. After all, whatever he needed Charles for must of been important.

"No, Jean and him are off chaperoning a field trip in the city. He should be back sometime this evening."

Logan let out a little "hmph", trying his best sound to sound disappointed. Inside he was estatic he finally caught up to you again. Now with no one else around, his mind flooded with possibilities on how this could go. The odds of you immediately throwing yourself at him weren't zero, were they? If he were to take you and bend you over the table right this very second, there was a possiblility you'd let him... right? God, am I really this desperate? he thought.

After letting a moment hang in the air, he sat down next to you in the ajacet seat. "So, what are you doing here all by yourself? Got nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon, huh?" Good idea, Logan, change the subject.

"You're one to talk," your focus was now one hundred percent on him. Thighs spread as he lazily leaned back in the chair, rolling his head ro the side. To say he wasn't beautiful like this would be a lie. You've rarely seen him this relaxed. "Aren't you here too?"

"Huh." Logan did not anticipate you to call him out like that, "I guess you've got a point."

An awkward silence sat between the two of you. You pretended to divert your attention back to your book, not letting him escape the corner of your eye. Logan lit up a cigar he fished from his pocket. He desperately needed something to do with his hands.

"This is a library, you know that right?" You chide him after an annoyed sigh.

"Oh, is it now? I thought all these books were just for decoration." His lips sucked in another drag.

"Very expensive books, Logan. There's plenty of perfecly fine places to smoke around here if you just look."

He got up from his seat, "Then why don't you show me around, darlin'? Open my eyes a little." You couldn't quite tell if the pet name was to belittle you or to be affectionate. A hand reached out to bring you to stand. "I'll let you lead the way."

[writing-hat]

shattering

/!\ Spoilers for Dragons Rising S2P2!

(very original title) hiii i'm still not dead <3 sorry i'm not active but y'know. life.

here's a jay fic!! about him experiencing shatterspin for the very first time but this is actually more me trying to make the wolf masks kinda gory and made out of flesh it's. it's an experiment. as well as like. physical effects

i'm just having fun and trying out some things (ig it's not really a fic then but idk adfkjsegd)

/!\ TW : Blood, Gore, Wounds, Death (tell me if I forgot something)

Also not beta read and I don't read that well behind myself yaddi yadda y'know the drill (especially since this is more of a bunch of scraps assembled together and not a real fic akfjzsgv (I might cross post it on AO3 at some point we'll see))

This is around 6.8k words so it's half a short? anyway enjoy

Jay narrowed his eyes at the mask he held.

It seemed to be looking back at him. And to be frank, he wasn’t a fan of how it looked back.

A shiver crawled down his spine as he passed his fingers on the front. It was meant to be a mask, but the fact that there was hair there, even if short, was somewhat disturbing to realize. He didn’t know how to feel about the idea that these could be made of real fur. Or worse, that they were somewhat organic, and used to be alive.

He checked the eyes; they seemed colorless, and dull, when inactivated. Glassy.

Dead.

That last realization brought relief. Yeah, it was dead.

Whatever it was.

He knew he was supposed to put that shit on at some point, but… it didn’t seem like a great idea, in hindsight. At least that’s what his guts were telling him.

His mind was on a whole other setting. He trusted Ras, after all. Why shouldn’t he? He had saved him, from the insanity that the Administration had been.

Thank goodness this is over. He was grateful to the man, and had taken the time to hear his interests, and plans. Things Jay wasn’t bothered by, too big to be of a concern to him. But since they were important to his savior, well, who was he to refuse helping him?

He passed a hand on the fur again, before turning it around to see the inside. He winced.

It had been… somewhat ‘polished’, but one could not look away from the flesh that had probably been ripped apart from some unfortunate creature, the whole mask made of stitches between different kinds of skin. But he didn’t dare to touch it to confirm his fears. Had it been the same specie, every time? He did wonder if asking himself that wasn’t the most unimportant question of all.

Living beings had to die, for these masks to be made.

Jay hated how his brain was sure of it.

That, and there was some… sort of taint, at the bottom of it. Where the mouth was supposed to be.

It wasn’t on all the masks, but enough of them had it to pique Jay’s curiosity.

He hadn’t talked about it to Lord Ras yet, of course. He doubted others had noticed what these visages were made of. He wasn’t even sure how he had noticed the details in the first place.

Perhaps due to his weird anxious nature about everything that’s been happening since starting his life in the Administration. His only life, actually, since he couldn’t remember shit from before.

The medallion felt heavy in his pocket. Its sudden presence making itself known made him frown.

This piece of metal was all that was left to him. He wasn’t even sure how the ones that had found him in the Land of Madness hadn’t taken that away from him, just like all his previous belongings.

He placed the mask back in its place, giving it a final glare, before walking away.

He looked at himself, unsure of what to think of his clothes.

They were comfy, that was for sure. Much better then the suit he’d been forced to wear for years in this damned Administration. And looking much better. He did enjoy the patterns that had been added to go along his powers. Symbols of wolf could be seen as well, on his chest, making sure people would know which clan he belonged to- in case the mask wouldn’t be enough.

But the fur covering his neck, and the gloves… he didn’t like as much. They hid away scars, important parts of himself.

Then again, he still had the ones on his face, definitely due to his own powers when it came to the lightning paths, and probably from fights where there were cuts, and skin that had been torn.

He wasn’t a fan of keeping them away.

But, having his body completely protected when it was clear he was going to fight in the future wasn’t that bad of an idea. Are we going to fight now? Jay doubted it. A lot of the new recruits had probably no idea of what they were getting into. Had probably been enrolled with the idea that they were going to become better fighters, with something close to powers. Lots of people didn’t listen fully when about to drastically change their lives, he had seen it many times in the Administration.

With a heavy sigh, he passed a hand on his face. To be honest, Jay hadn’t thought that long about this idea of joining Lord Ras’s forces as well.

But I owe him. He was there when no one had tried to help. It was all that mattered.

Jay could hear people getting closer. He turned around, seeing Cinder and Ras coming towards him.

The latter still had the same expression as always, severe, and mildly pissed off at people for breathing in front of him. The master of smoke, on the other hand, often had a smug expression there, knowing he was above everyone else, and enjoying it way too much. Not too far from them, he could see Jordana, the sort of witch- he didn’t completely understand what her deal was- who looked away as soon as she saw Jay noticing her.

He didn’t get to focus on that, though, when Ras made sure to be the only thing in his vision.

“I take it you’re ready for today.”

No. Not at all. But this wasn’t what their Lord wanted to hear. “Yes.” He took a deep breath, doing his best to resist the need to fidget with the fur around his collar.

“A first test, to make sure everything will go smoothly for the first battle.” Cinder chuckled at Jay’s expression, before handing him the wolf mask. “You’re lucky to try it before the real deal, Jay.”

He glared at Cinder. “Yeah. I guess so.”

Though, with how the master of smoke was looking at him, mocking, he wouldn’t call any of this luck.

Inhaling sharply, he tried to not let himself show how nervous he felt. He hadn’t expected to wear it so soon. He grabbed the mask that was given to him, nauseous at how he was about to wear unknown skin on his own.

He tried to compare it to leather, but fuck that had nothing in common. He passed trembling fingers on the inside, wanting to confirm his fears.

…Yup. Organic tissues. It was repulsing.

Cinder quirked an eyebrow. “Are you hesitant now?”

There was a threatening growl coming from Ras that echoed with the other’s words. Jay closed his eyes, and shook his head. At least… there weren’t any smell to go with the thing. “No. Not at all.”

“Good.” Ras crossed his arms behind his back, walking towards the arena. “Then get ready. You will be tested along our new soldiers.”

Soldiers. Why did he hate that designation? Wasn’t he supposed to be more, with his elemental power?

He adverted his gaze, focusing it back on the inside of this mask. “Sure.”

It was the first time he entered the shadow dojo. The outside had been eerie, with nothing but the strange orange and red light on their paths, but the inside was a whole other deal.

It was… poorly lighted, somehow, despite the bright lights coming from outside, with candles offering a soft blue glow all around them. He wasn’t sure how the flames managed to stay in that hue, but couldn’t really focus on that when he was trying to avoid all the others that entered with him. Some were chatting, apparently already knowing each other.

Jay didn’t want to know anyone in here. He didn’t see the point.

There were runes everywhere as well. He had no idea of what they meant, but they were glistening too, in that same color as the candles. Plants had grown as well on the wall, somehow.

He sat on the ground, unbothered to stay up like the others. From here, he could see that the only one on the ground like him was someone with a large hat, covering most of his face. His eyes were revealed briefly when he raised his head to watch who had come here for the first trial, allowing Jay to recognize him.

He was the guy he had seen many times speak with Ras. Although speak was a light statement; more so yelling and arguing, with the latter always having the last word, letting the other clearly frustrated.

Nokt. That was his name. He remembered him due to the electrical device placed on the back of his head. Even if he wasn’t sure he had heard his name right earlier, since it seemed like he preferred to keep to himself, as proved when he lowered his hat down again, effectively shielding his expression away from everyone else.

But there was something Jay managed to see before he did.

A spark of amusement, of all things, akin to one about to watch some sort of entertainment unfold.

…Jay didn’t think he was going to like that guy.

His attention shifted back to their leader, when he hit the ground with his hammer. He gave a speech, one Jay half-listened to, about being ready to change their lives for this better form of power, and so on and so on. Monologues are always so tiring.

…Where had he heard boring monologues like these before?

A glimpse of- something, from before, barely there, that escaped him as soon as he tried to look for it, smothered away by another hit of Lord Ras’s hammer against the ground, and someone getting on their feet and walking to the center of the room. Jay thanked his luck helping out for once, since he definitely wouldn’t have heard his name if he had been first.

Watching the guy, he gave way to his urge, and started to play with the fur around his neck to keep himself calm. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like his anxiety was eating him alive, starting with his insides, and pulling on his guts and get him to run away from there as fast as he could.

He gnawed on his lip. He couldn’t make himself worry about nothing. This was just… apprehension, that came with every test he had to take.

Except if he failed this one, he might’ve to be forced back into the Administration. Damn it.

Deciding on ignoring the painful cramps his overreacting unconscious gave him, he focused back on the scene before him, observing the one that had been called.

The guy nodded his head to Lord Ras, and placed the mask on his face. Jay winced, clutching his other hand around the one he was holding; he really didn’t want to know how centuries old flesh would feel on his face. But he supposed he had no choice.

Holding his breath as Ras approached the gong, he tried to think of the power that wearing this mask would mean for him. He knew there was something about a forbidden technique of some sort, the Shatterspin, which he’d been taught the basics, but what about his powers? What would be the effects?

He’d seen Cinder. He’d seen how much quicker and agile he became whenever the mask would fuse with him, and gift him an armor instead of staying as a mask. The red eyes, he wasn’t that fan of, but if it meant finding who he was supposed to be, by feeling his powers better then ever before…

The scar under his left eye throbbed, forcing him to rub it. Not that he didn’t feel his power now, but he didn’t quite think he had a good grasp on it. He managed a few zaps here and there, and sparks to help him when it was completely dark, but other then that, not much else.

There is potential within you, Jay Walker. These had been Lord Ras’s words.

And he couldn’t wait to unleash that potential.

The gong was hit a first time.

Jay jumped out of his skin when the one put on trial shrieked in pain. Someone beside him gasped, letting him know that he definitely wasn’t the only one to be surprised.

He walked back, holding his face in pain and doubling over as the mask’s glowed that bright cyan. Not letting him the time to rest, or even wonder what was happening to him, the gong was hit a second time with a sound that echoed all around them. It was enough to make the room shake, and dust fall from the unexpectedly stable walls of this place. All the blue lights turned red.

The guy screamed again. Jay watched as he tried to remove the mask, pulling on his hair when trying to remove the strap that kept it in place. But it didn’t budge, despite his knuckles turning white from the force he was using for this one thing.

Jay felt sick, witnessing all this. Glancing around, he noticed how disappointed Lord Ras looked, and the way Cinder let his disgust appear.

…Shit.

His attention shifted back to the man in the center when he heard him puke. From here, he couldn’t really see what came out, and couldn’t help his flinch when the sound of retching reached his ears.

Chocking sounds could then be heard. It surely didn’t help when he threw his head back, gasping for air, too far gone to realize that he was making things worse.

Jay couldn’t look away from him. Doing so… doing so would mean he wasn’t cut for this role. It would mean showing weakness, and not being worthy of the chance offered to him.

Doing so would mean abandoning the man to his fate, a far side of his brain whispered. Jay took a deep breath, brushing that thought aside, just like he always had back in the Administration. Kindness and pity weren’t the way to go when one wanted to master Shatterspin, and the power of the Wolf Clan. He remembered Ras’s warnings too well.

Speaking of which, he couldn’t help but check a second time their leader, breath getting stuck in his throat when he did.

Lord Ras was watching them, not the poor guy struggling to survive against the surges of powers that went in his body forcefully. He was quick to understand; he wanted to see who was able to stomach it, and who would be useless in the future to him. And fuck, Jay didn’t think he could do that, but he didn’t have a choice. His body and mind didn’t have a choice.

The man screamed in pure pain and terror one last time, turning Jay’s insides. His hands grabbed at his skin, scratching with abnormal nails that had grown after the gong had been hit a third time. It made deep wounds, forcing crimson to pour out, but it seemed like the man couldn’t care less, just wanting to get rid of that cursed mask.

He heaved, then coughed, falling on his knees with a final yell, yielding to the pressure of energy that must’ve been coursing through his body. Unable to adapt.

And then…

He fell to the ground.

As soon as he did, the red lights came back to the blue hue they had first seen when entering the room.

When others gasped, and some cried, one, Jay heard a snicker. He looked around, trying to see who was sick enough to have that kind of reaction to someone dropping dead in front of them.

He frowned when he found out who.

Now he knew why Nokt had seemed amused at the beginning. He must’ve known this could happen. What a fucking psychopath. He looked away from him, and back at the center of the dojo.

Ras growled, stomping his boot on the ground at the result. He then turned towards Wolf Warriors, a finger pointed at the now dead man. “Get it out of here. We aren’t done yet.”

Shit. Shit. Jay swallowed hard, unable to look away from the blood, as well as the one the corpse left behind when pulled away in a messy trail.

Their leader hit the ground with his hammer, demanding attention from everyone in the room. “The reason he failed, was his resilience against our power. To become powerful, one must learn to bend to the rules that make it all. Only then, can you be one with the Wolf Clan’s powers.” He pointed his weapon towards the recruits, snarling when most of them took a step back in front of it. “Another one of his mistake was doubting me, and being a coward.”

His eyes scanned the room, glaring. “If any of you feel that way as well, you may as well leave. Now.”

That would be a mistake. Yet, some people immediately hurried out, not needing to be told twice. Not a lot- four of them, he counted. Jay closed his eyes, and tried to ignore how two Wolf Warriors followed after them, their claws ready.

What had he gotten himself into? What was going to happen to him?! How many others were going to die? Not that he questioned of the others’ loyalty, but there was no doubt that witnessing that guy’s death must’ve changed their will to join.

Now that Jay knew this was the consequence of failure… fuck. Fuck. His guts were twisting in there, hurting his stomach physically, at this point. His ears were ringing, clouding his mind from everything else. What if all that he had done, all this ‘surviving’ shit, had only lead to his demise?

Jay clenched his fists. He’d never allow that. Cinder had managed to do it, so why wouldn’t he?

This was an opportunity. To find purpose, and a place where he would belong. He couldn’t screw this up. He wasn’t a damn coward. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to fight back the power that was about to allow him a new beginning.

This was a cruel world after all. Hadn’t he learned that over and over again? And he couldn’t be at the bottom of it all just because others weren’t able to keep up.

He would not. He would survive through it all, no matter what it meant to wear that mask.

No matter the price.

Ras called his name. He was the second one to be tested.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his head, and faced the Lord’s eyes with a fierce glare.

Slowly, he got up, ignoring how his stomach still felt like a pit, and how his head was still hurting from the panic he had felt earlier when seeing that man die, his pulse somehow perceivable in his ears.

Still, he got to the center of the room. Only when he did, his eyes found themselves unable to detach from the splatters of blood everywhere. Some were older. Some were on the walls.

They had all witnessed that many times, hadn’t they? And they hadn’t told anyone.

It was… it was…

He took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to loose it.

A dark paw handed the mask to him. It allowed Jay to focus his eyes in front of him, and away from the red splatters. Something he regretted doing, when meeting Ras’s eyes.

They were harsh, and unforgiving.

Jay couldn’t mess up.

He was being given a chance. A chance, that could be taken back, and handed to any other elemental master. He wasn’t the only one gifted after all, Cinder was the proof of that. Ras didn’t need him for this grand plan; he had an army, and people ready to follow his every order.

On the other hand, Jay needed Ras. And he owed that new chance at freedom, to him.

Straightening up, he grabbed his mask, and tried to not think back on how it was made of skin. Instead, he tried to concentrate on how there was metal there as well. When tying the strap behind his head, he tried to not remember how the one before him hadn’t been able to remove it when wanting to escape.

No turning back.

Darkness cornered his vision, the latter becoming defined by the constricted sight given to him.

Once settled, he placed both his arms along his body, and nodded to Ras with a dry throat. The latter growled, rearranging his hold on the hammer.

The gong was hit a first time.

The wave of its sound exploded in the room, reaching Jay’s body. It froze him, both his physical shell, and thoughts. Everything had gone silent in his mind, and around him. And he wasn’t sure if this was due to the effect of its power.

Even breathing seemed impossible, in these short seconds. He was completely petrified, finding himself feeling as if he’d been stuck in something so dense and heavy, holding him back. No noise could make it out of his mouth, despite the pain that had started to build up in both his face and chest.

Something had cracked inside of him.

Just as he sensed it, the gong was hit a second time.

It felt like a blow to his chest, making him back away. His bones felt breaking as he did, making him wonder if they could’ve been weakened by the power he had been hoping to obtain.

His ears unblocked. It caused him to be suddenly dizzy, and made his head heavy with the lack of oxygen.

Then his breath hitched, as soon as he noticed the paralyzing effect was gone.

Like breaking out of shallow waters and reaching the surface, he gasped, greedily sucking air. His legs wobbled, making him feel like he was about to loose balance, as both his hands reached for his neck to protect the precious air he was barely able to keep in his trachea.

His skin was itchy everywhere. Something was going on inside of him, turning his veins icy cold.

Something was wrong, and hurting. Something was very wrong.

The rush of his blood too was fast, and strong, making him think that his blood vessels were doubling in size, and perhaps stretching his skin as it grew, leading to his articulations becoming harder to move. It left the impression that everything was about to blow inside of him.

For a second, he wondered if he had died, and if he was about to fall on the floor, just like the man before him had, but then realized that the sound of his heartbeat was still there, and as fucking loud as it was quick.

He was alive. He was-

The gong was hit for the third, and last time.

The final wave forced him to puke, which he went along with, trying his best to not suffocate with it like the first guy. A blink, and he noticed that it was blood, coming out from his mouth in worrying amounts.

His insides abruptly felt like shattering, and he yelled, as his whole body seemed burning up, a harsh and painful contrast compared to what he’d been feeling seconds ago.

Jay wasn’t able to keep a shriek from escaping him, when the power he’d felt in him for as long as he could remember reached for his limbs, and exploded. The scent of burning skin made it to his nostrils, and he held his middle, as if trying to stop his insides from escaping him like his powers had. Only when he did, he sensed his lightning breaking apart.

Millions of pieces, made of parts of his powers, going absolutely insane, and making his body spasm.

Getting electrocuted was a familiar feeling. One he despised, but was never able to escape for too long when it came to dealing with his own incompetence and ignorance. Or when he would redirect lighting on their ship, to protect the ones he cared about.

But just like his power, these thoughts were shattered, making him cry, as his head hurt too much for him to keep up with.

So he didn’t.

He let these words and images get torn into pieces, shards feeling like they came to his heart, pulling his whole torso in a constricting sensation that once again made him think like he was about to die, just like that. The boiling sensation kept on increasing, causing his whole body to feel like he was burning alive.

Something clicked, then, and his vision became too blurry to understand. The red lights made it so he didn’t know where he was anymore, the distant image of people he used to know breaking apart again and again, causing his mind to shatter as well.

And once it was all gone, he vomited again, hugging himself tightly as if trying to at least keep his body in one piece. His shoulders slowly felt heavier, and the fur that had been around his sensitive skin suddenly ceased to be.

Though this was the last thing Jay cared about, as he fell to his knees, the collide with the ground making his bones almost rattle. The way his fingers kept twitching made him wonder how they hadn’t broken yet.

His breathing was difficult, with a voice that had turned hoarse at yells and cries of pain he hadn’t even been aware to be letting out.

He was about to die. He didn’t know how the feeling was so familiar, perhaps due to the blood that accumulated in his breathing pipes, akin to water, filling his lungs until there could be no air passing through. His heartbeat was diminishing, yet it stayed as the only thing Jay could hear.

So he caught it. He caught his heart, for it was all that was left to him.

His will to stay alive. His will to have something of his own, that would make him whole.

And it was a heart burning with rage.

This, was what pulled all the pieces back. What once had tried to escape him, was now caught back by the sheer amount of anger he felt at how fate and destiny had treated him.

What does it mean? The question went away as soon as it brushed his mind, the violent waves of power crushing anything that wasn’t meant to be like it away.

Thoughts. Feelings.

They no longer mattered.

All that mattered was power. Stitching back all that had been separated.

His lightning felt growing. Launching itself and balancing his body in positions and forms that meant both a cry for a help and the picture of a violent force forbidding anyone to get close.

Then came the fusion.

The skin that made the inside of the mask slithered in through his pores, pulling and tearing its way through to have full possession of him, and share its cursed strength to the one that had dared to agree with its ways. Jay wanted to wonder if this was what it meant to meddle with dark magic.

But he couldn’t even do that, screaming again with his broken voice at the violent intrusion he had allowed for someone else’s game.

Foolish. Foolish. He always was foolish.

The foreign matter didn’t bother to be careful, before settling in- although not without damaging the inside of his mouth some more. It forced out more blood out, kicking out whatever was left that wouldn’t be useful to this newfound power.

A final deep breath, and Jay felt…

Liberated.

Gone, was the weight that had been caused by his soul and mind shattering and leaving behind too many pieces to carry. His whole body now felt light, lungs freed enough to give him as much space as needed for the air he needed to live.

The power felt lurking in his systems, flowing and giving him feelings he’d never felt before.

It was pure bliss.

After a few minutes, Jay blinked, his vision coming back, although with nothing to muffle it this time. The euphoric sensation slowly escaped him, letting reality settle back in his mind. Feelings of what was around and on him came back, making him tighten his fists.

He felt as though his sweat had drenched all of his clothes, along the blood. His chest kept expanding in grand moves, each breath making his body quiver, as he tried to catch his breath properly, and return oxygen to his brain.

When he did, his head returned to its previous heavy state, with each pulse increasing the pressure at an impossible rate. Yet, this stayed incredibly dull compared to what having worn the mask the first time had felt like.

He opened and closed his mouth, stretching his jaw to check if it hadn’t changed, or if the muscles there hadn’t torn apart. They had certainly felt so. He checked his limbs as well, particularly his hands, by opening and closing them multiple times.

Everything was good, it seemed.

Bringing his hands up, he checked his face, wanting to make sure everything was still there, and if he hadn’t just imagined the mask going inside of his skin.

But he hadn’t. The mask wasn’t here anymore.

He rubbed at his neck, but scratched himself, making him hiss. He looked at his hands.

Claws had grown, there. The gloves hadn’t even torn, having adapted to the new form they had gained. Closing his eyes, he then oversaw how his powers reacted to the newly added strength.

The response was immediate, surge of powers making his body twitch, and forcing him to gasp for air again. Opening back his eyes, he saw these bridges of electricity between his fingers, going all the way to the tip of his fingers, before disappearing, over and over again.

He chuckled, snapping his fingers. It created a small blow, enough to shake his curls. He then got back up, not bothered to look at the people around him, despite the loud whispers. Directing his gaze in front of him, he then aimed for a wall with his fingers, before sending his lightning there.

The stone that made the wall exploded, pieces of wood and rocks flying everywhere in the room, and allowing dust to float freely.

Jay snickered, feeling this happy buzzing inside of him, always here in the aftermath.

Fuck yeah.

He had missed this so much.

…I wonder who thisused to be.

Walking away from the gravestone, he added the wood to the fire he had prepared for the night.

A caravan was in that junkyard, but he didn’t feel like he was allowed to get inside, even if no one was there. No matter how cold it could get in the desert at night, this wasn’t his home, and he was simply there as a guest. He wasn’t even sure why he had traveled all the way here, but by the time he had realized where he had gone to, the sun had been long gone, leaving him with no choice but to set up camp here.

At least this spot was empty. It was a welcoming change compared to the crowded and suffocating places that had been the Administration or staying with the Wolf Clan. Although he had always been on his own in these previous positions, here the loneliness was one much better then what he’d dealt with in these last few years.

Jay hoped that there at least wouldn’t be any wild creatures to attack him. Fighting back without his powers had proven to be more difficult then he had expected. Thankfully, he had kept the gun from his time in the Administration; a great way to defend himself.

He sat on the ground, and looked at the fire crackling in front of his feet, relieving the itch on his face by scratching it as much as he could. No doubt his skin had not only turned red, but with marks left behind as well. Damn it.

…Being without that mask was going to be very hard. It had adapted to his skin- or maybe it had gifted him a second one. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t understand any of this.

All he knew, was that whenever he had been wearing it, even if for a short time, it had been granting him such an incredible thrill that he already knew just couldn’t be compared.

Oh, he had felt like he was on top of the world. As if nothing could’ve ever stopped his powers and him, from getting back at everything that had been unfair to him up to this point.

Now, all he had left were scars. From wearing this cursed mask, and bearing these powers that had never been truly his, but another’s hidden through his own element.

Jay had no idea if he missed the mask, its power, or if this was all caused by how much he missed his lightning.

His eye twitched; he should’ve listened to his urge, in that moment, and killed her. Destroyed her. And now that he hadn’t, the feeling of regret was unbearable.

He wanted to tear at his skin, but he didn’t even have the claws left for that. Only his poorly taken care of nails, dirty and gnawed by his need to relieve his anxiety and surges of powers every time he hadn’t been wearing the mask.

…Jay missed it all, as much as he cursed it all.

Had he not followed Ras, he would have never lost his powers. Had he stayed in the Administration, in this false life of his, he would have never been bothered by flashes and addictions he had never been prepared to face. He would’ve found his own way to his demise, sure, but at least through a path never led by others.

How had any of what I heard so farsounded right? How could I fall for their lies?

Jay frowned, thinking back on what he had listened to again. He didn’t believe them at all. Their fake stories…

Everyone lies. They’re all the same. Great warrior my ass. Jay now didn’t doubt that Ras could’ve lied to him, and it upset him greatly. What for?! To give him hope, and then crush it all in the next moment because of his so called failure? Gah!

He thought back on that woman he had fought. She too, had pretended to know him.

The sweet tone he could remember from her voice made him grit his teeth.

Even if she and her team had been right, why had they never come for him? It had been years. He had found himself all over again, since then.

“Let’s theorize that it was because they had no idea of where I was. Fine.” Jay clenched his fists. “Why didn’t they come get me when I was kicked out?”

His words were barely above a whisper, not even heavy enough to be carried around by the wind.

He stopped moving, forbid himself from flinching, focusing on the sounds of the burning fire so he could shift it as a background noise so his brain wouldn’t have to bother itself with. He then closed his eyes, and just… listened.

Strong wind, making the abandoned metal around him creak softly, and passing through small and tight openings, whistling all around him.

Deep down, he knew he waited for another noise. The snap of a branch, or the crunch of the sand under someone’s shoe that would make his hair bristle in apprehension. The sign that someone would come for him.

So he waited.

Until moments later, silence was still all that answered him.

He cursed, bringing his knees up to hug them, and huddle in a smaller position.

Jay didn’t know what else he had expected. Of course this wouldn’t happen.

He was alone. He’d always be, in the end. And it seemed like… he wasn’t enough. Not enough to make up for the help given to him, nor enough for people that were supposed to care about him to come back and find him. Loneliness was all that awaited him. He understood that.

… And despite feeling like this, he didn’t feel as he thought low he would’ve.

No. Quite the contrary.

Jay was… appeased. After all, that meant he could finally build a life. Even if it wouldn’t be much.

Throughout the years, he had learned that he had to move forward in order to survive. To do as told, and never question what he was ordered to do, or face consequences. Whether it had been the Administration, or Ras’s Wolf Clan.

So now, knowing for sure that no one and nothing was going to hold him back was freeing. Enough to get rid of these incessant thoughts bugging his mind, at least. Yet not quite enough to get rid of that pressure in his stomach.

Because all of this meant that he had nothing. He never had, and he never would. It left him… empty.

At the end of the day, it meant that he was nothing.

He watched the sparks escaping the fire. Like lightning’s, in a sense, but much less volatile, and not as comforting. He followed their trails, until his gaze ended up towards the stars. Had he known their names, a lifetime ago? The paths they traced, and how they never changed?

But it must’ve changed after the Merge. There was no doubt about that. Even something supposed to never be in motion except throughout centuries had completely shifted, no matter how infinite and big it must’ve always felt to him.

Everything had changed.

How was he supposed to find his past self if nothing was the same?

I don’t. That’s how. There was no need to waste time for something so meaningless. At least he hoped.

He sighed, glad to be protected from the chill of the night.

Warmth whenever it was cold was always a better thing. It was a comforting presence he had never admitted to enjoy in front of him. His… his heart kinda regretted that now.

Jay blinked at the dark sky.

…Who-

Something flashed before his eyes, too fast for him to identify what it was. It aimed for him, reaching its target in a millisecond.

Lightning had just struck him.

He shouted, feeling his powers immediately coming back to him, making him fall on his hands and knees.

Fuck. He hated that feeling. The one of his body getting electrocuted by his own life source, because he just couldn’t control it right.

Come on! He hit the ground with his fist, spitting on the grass as he grasped at the insanity of his power. He kept gritting his teeth, until finally, the lightning settled in, and buzzed happily to be back in its rightful place, with its rightful owner.

Jay took a deep breath. Yeah. Missed you too.

Since the start, his lightning had been the only thing there for him. To be reunited with it again brought tears to his eyes, both of joy, and anger.

At having lost them in the first place. At losing them to that damned water ninja.

I love you, Jay. I will always love you.

The memory of the woman’s desperate face flashed back when he shut his eyes to get rid of his tears.

An act. It wasn’t that difficult to pretend emotions after all, was it?

If he ever saw her again… he was pretty sure he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.

She hadn’t hesitated to defeat him. Pretty fucked up for someone who was supposed to care, like she wanted him to believe.

Or maybe she’d been following orders, like I was.

Jay shook his head. Whatever the reason, it clearly wouldn’t justify anything. Nor would it tarnish the way his heart dripped hatred into his blood, making him even angrier then before.

The medallion felt heavy in his pocket.

Too heavy, this time.

He took it, and looked at the shape.

…It was a missing piece. He could see that now.

Jay didn’t want to be that. The missing piece of someone instead of being his own person. Of a puzzle he had nothing to do with.

What kind of life could he expect if all he was supposed to be was a pawn placed by others, and never able to have his own free will? The piece in a long chain of supposed important people. Full of important tasks, to serve the greater good of some kind of Great Administration, or a Great Cause of some Delusional Clan.

He’d be no one’s missing piece. No one’s lost part.

He was his own soul. No matter how shattered it felt, and how many little pieces of it were left.

Jay threw the heavy piece in the fire, the weight in his heart never tarnishing during the long time he watched it in the flames, as the moon advanced its course. He stayed that way, holding his limbs tightly against him, while taking deep yet suffocating breaths.

Until, it finally started to melt.

The slightest tint of gold, pearling down as it became a liquid again, and advanced on the darker metal it was attached to.

Never again.

[skeletboi]

Super short update because my life is a mess.

But here is part 24 of the Intridimensional Au!

First /// Previous /// Next

__________________________________________

“Impressive as ever.” Ford said as he looked at the robot arm on the work bench.

“Thanks, Stanford.” Fiddleford replied quietly.

Ford watched Fiddleford place his good hand over the arm then glanced up at Fiddleford's face and frowned.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Lots a’ things are, I reckon.” Fiddleford said with a humorless huff of laughter. “Ya know when I went back home fer Christmas and fergot ta get Emma-May a present?”

“I recall, yes.” Ford responded, his frown deepening.

“She was already purdy darn mad at me before that. I wore baggy sweaters ta try and hide the metal cast on my arm so she wouldn't go worryin’ ‘bout it, but Tate ain't dumb and heard the hum of the components. He asked me about it, ‘cuz he's at that age where they ask a million questions, and I told him it was a metal cast. ‘Course he's an imaginative kid so he immediately started calling it a robit arm. He ran ta Emma-May ta tell her, and I thought she was ‘bout to murder me on the spot.” Fiddleford paused and picked up the arm. “He'd love this, but Emma-May would hate it.”

“I love it, if that makes you feel any better.” Ford said, placing a hand on Fiddleford's back.

“It does.” Fiddleford said with another quiet laugh. “But I can't stop thinkin’ about that. Emma-May knew how I felt ‘bout you in college, and we got in a purdy big fight ‘bout it before I came ta Gravity Falls. I love Emma-May, but our parents both loved the idea of us bein’ together more than we did. I think maybe we were more like best friends than spouses, but I promised her I'd be back ‘cause, above all else, we jus’ wanted Tate ta have a normal childhood.” Fiddleford set the arm back down and choked on a laugh that sounded suspiciously more like a sob. “‘Spose I'll jus’ hafta live with the fact that he won't. I don’ know if he'll ‘member me at all.”

“Fidds…” Ford said softly, unsure of what else to say with his own guilt and regret tearing at his chest.

“If I knew it was gonna turn out this way I prolly woulda jus’ said screw it and kissed ya as soon as ya opened the door to yer damn creepy cabin in the woods.”

Ford cracked a smile at that, but Fiddleford still looked a thousand miles away as he stared down at the arm.

“You would have stopped me.” Ford said after a moment.

Fiddleford glanced over at him in question.

“You say you would have kissed me right then, but I know you, and, if you had known this was the outcome, you would have left.” Ford clarified.

“Maybe.” Fiddleford responded thoughtfully, “But maybe not. Maybe I’m too scared in every timeline.”

“Fuck that.” Stan said, coming up behind them and dropping the last box at their feet. “I saw your face when Ford mentioned fighting back against Bill. That wasn't fear. That was determination.”

Fiddleford smiled sadly over his shoulder at Stanley.

“I thought you'd grow out of being so cheesy.” Ford deadpanned.

“Nope!” Stan replied with a smile. “But if you two are done being nauseating, we have some boxes to go through. I found a box of brown meat! It says it expires in 1993, but who the fuck knows what year it is in this dimension. My plan is to eat it now, ask questions later!”

“I believe you meant ‘die of food poisoning later’.” Ford noted.

“Or die of starvation! Might as well eat mystery food and die the fun way!” Stan laughed.

“Dysentery don't sound fun.” Fiddleford replied.

“Whatever, nerds.” Stan said, motioning to the boxes. “Just grab what you want so we can get on with life. I found a shot gun, too. You're welcome.”

Fiddleford laughed but did as he was told and put aside his arm project to start rummaging through the boxes.

___________________________________________

Sorry non-Fiddauthor fans. I needed Fiddauthor.

I originally wasn't going to write this bit in, but I wanted to give some context to the guilt they're both still feeling and the relationship between Emma-May and Fidds. Emma-May is bi in this universe, but prefers woman. Is that a cop-out to make myself feel better about how much Fidds hurt her? Yes, yes it is. But I am doing it anyway because I do what I fucking want.

I have another art piece nearly done, so I'll probably post it tomorrow. For now, enjoy. Or whatever.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Fun Mimic Fact of the Day: Upgrading a mimic in accordance to how you'd update the engine they're mimicking, involves both an engineering and a visual arts aspect.

The workmen at the diesel/steam works need to illustrate what they intend for the mimic to look like (draw on a copy of the original plans, the alterations they intend to make), and then create the parts that would serve as upgrades for the engine, before feeding them to the mimic.

The parts will give them the necessary mass for them to change their appearance, while the illustrations give them direction.

Some mimics are very particular about their appearance, however, and might refuse to change what they look like on principle.

Example 1: Edward readily accepted changes to his original shape as a means to both show his loyalty to the NWR, and to soften his look considerably (this is more obvious in his smaller size, since he sheds his rail-antlers in favour of looking more approachable and friendly, especially to children). Being an older mimic, he seems to understand that a good attitude and good appearances are important when it comes to keeping passengers happy.

Example 2: Gordon has rejected all and any attempts to alter his general shape due to both pride and a traumatic situation involving one of his siblings (he may be loyal to Sir Topham Hatt, but he will not allow anyone to take that much control over his self-image). That said, it's unclear how he feels about his only surviving brother's smoke deflector ears and twin tender pouches (when he gets annoyed, he tugs sharply on the former which is somewhat of a comical sight).

Example 3: Henry had no choice but to accept having his shape changed for health benefits. That said, he becomes exceedingly aggravated by anything that isn't a practical change that'll help him with his work. After the tunnel incident, vanity is a concept that somewhat repulses him and he avoids anything remotely cosmetic.

Example 4: Any attempt to alter James's appearance is met with downright hostility. The last effort made to make him more closely resemble a typical Hughes Class 28 ended with him purposefully spitting-up molten metal all over the workshop floor in clear protest. The only changes he's ever allowed were to help strengthen his faulty knees (which were a result of the wooden break-blocks) and to give him his signature red color.

Example 5: Lord forbid anyone so much as dreams about changing Duck's shape or color. He will scream like the devil himself possessed him (he was this shape and color when he was with the GWR, and that is NEVER going to change).

[vidavalor]

*pops up and dusts off shoulder* Hi! Thanks for thinking of me. Love this topic. Dear as a corruption of the original deil but just within the song, I would think. It looks like it's a phonetic evolution. Basically, people misheard the similar-sounding words enough that this new version of the song emerged. Because it's a folk ballad, it was sung often enough and by so many varied people that its lyrics changed over time. It's sung as "dear" in the version of the song in the film, which I've seen and is lovely.

A more modern version of this same word corruption effect on a song would be the changes to Britney Spears' "Toxic." The actual, original, official lyric in that song was a taste of a poisoned paradigm but so many people heard a taste of a poisoned paradise instead that everyone involved-- including Britney Spears and the songwriters-- basically gave up on insisting that the original lyric be upheld. There have been subsequent, official versions where she sings paradise and the best cover of the song-- Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox feat. Melinda Doolittle's smoky and very Crowley & Aziraphale torch song rendition of it-- uses the paradise line. As someone who basically only likes this one Britney song and thought the original lyric was better, I find this all quite irritating. 😂

What's interesting about the language evolution/corruption in "I Know Where I'm Going" is that this word very much changes the tone and meaning of the song. It's a bit darker when it's referring to Satan and the fact that the song is referring to him is referencing a forbidden aspect to the romance-- one that could incur the wrath of The Devil. They know where they are going and they know who they love and who they'll marry-- and The Devil does, too.

Add it to the ever-growing list of suggestions that Satan is appearing to be The Metatron in The Final 15...

But when it evolves in the song to be "dear" instead of "deil" and to shake The Devil free from the song? Then, it becomes a love song about this person who is confident in their direction because they know who they love and who they'll marry and their dear-- the person they love-- knows it, too. It's this version of the song that is sung in the film.

The "I Know Where I'm Going" episode title seems to be emphasizing the influence of that film as a whole but likely by also confirming the main reference to it in S2, which is in the tartan hills as Aziraphale goes to Edinburgh. This comes from one of the best parts of the film and the way the show is using it is just... *happy sigh* I loved it so much. 😇 I don't want to spoil the film for anyone who hasn't seen it-- and give it a watch, it's great!-- so, I'm going to be a bit vague but hopefully, you'll see where I'm, well, going, with it. Some spoilers below.

The film is a love story-- a tone-shifting, genre-bending one at times, much like Good Omens. Its central character is a woman named Joan whose anxiety is hidden by her stubbornness and determinism, which has both positive qualities and negative ones. She believes she knows where she's going and has a plan to follow for her life and we watch as those plans get blown to smithereens by her running into trouble on her journey to a remote Scottish island to marry this horrible guy. On the way, she meets and falls in love with Torquil, the local laird and the person she'd be much better suited to marrying.

Torquil is the one who sees her there and they help each other to live a bit more and fall in love for most of the film. The bad weather conditions that have stranded Joan on the other side of island from where she's supposed to go marry this other guy finally clear near the end of the film and she has a choice to make: does she go through with her plan... or does she, for the first time, abandon her sense that she always knew where she was going and marry Torquil?

The tartan hills scene that is referenced in Good Omens comes from one of the most fun parts of the film-- the one that exists to show us Joan's rationale for why she's planning on marrying this other guy who is decades older than her that we already know she doesn't love (and whom we only hear, once, during the film, and never meet.) While Joan is on the train for the first leg of her long journey to this Scottish island, she falls asleep and has a dream that explains to the audience what she's thinking. Joan doesn't dream of her fiance himself at all. The man she's marrying owns the company she works for, which is called Consolidated Chemical, and is basically presented as this too big to fail energy juggernaut. During the dream, the phrase "it's all arranged" repeats with the rhythm of the chugging train wheels and her dream is about money and status but it's really about her own feelings of insecurity.

What makes Joan likable is that she doesn't truly desire money and status so much as she is awkward, has trouble making friends, is anxious, and wants security. She has mistaken economic security for emotional security. She doesn't like herself enough to believe that she should marry someone she loves. She wants to marry the company this guy owns-- not him-- because she thinks that will give her a position and a place and solve her problems of feeling insecure.

She spends most of the film with Torquil and the real, working class people that he knows-- many of whom have been harmed by her fiance's presence on the nearby island-- and it forces her to realize that she made a plan that she thought was safe for her out of fear but that she didn't want to be going in the direction she was going and she doesn't really want anything to do with Consolidated Chemical. Her heart is with Torquil and his people. She realizes that her own stubborn sense of independence made her never someone who could have been satisfied with that plan she had made for her life because her values do not align with those of a life of being Mrs. Consolidated Chemical.

(The film also loves Scotland big time and there's an element in it of an Englishwoman falling in love with some Scots and their way of life that Good Omens also echoes with things like the 1827 minisode and Crowley and Aziraphale's love of Scotland-- Aziraphale changing the flag on the guy in the graveyard's phone, etc.. There's also a plot about Torquil, the idea of being cursed/doomed for eternity, and a whole thing about crossing doors/thresholds that are all very Good Omens as well but that would be too spoilery to get into.)

So, in the course of this dream that Joan has, she dreams of her journey to Scotland and the hills in her dream are covered in tartan. She doesn't know it but this is foreshadowing her actual fate-- she will fall for Scotland and for the man she meets there on her journey. This is the last thing she sees before she wakes up and then the whole rest of the film is really her waking up from the metaphorical dream that was her initial plans for her life and how unhealthy they were. The dream sequence is sort of a summary of where the film began and where it's going that is hidden in plain sight near the start of the film.

It's one thing for a tv show or a film to do an homage to another show/film but it's another to do one the way that GO nods to I Know Where I'm Going!. GO does an homage to this film by having Aziraphale do his own homage to it, in such a way that it makes it clear that Aziraphale is aware of the film. Aziraphale, as he is on his own journey to Scotland, changes bits of The Bentley to reflect Crowley and then, to amuse himself, changes the hills while he drives past them into the tartan hills of Joan's dream in I Know Where I'm Going!. It says that he knows and loves this movie.

It says that he sees elements of he and Crowley in Joan and Torquil's story. He relates to the movie as being like how Crowley came along and wrecked his plans to unhappily follow The Ineffable Plan into the abyss. Aziraphale has long since known where he's going, who he loves, and who he'll marry. Aziraphale's dear knows it, too. They're just about 90 minutes or so out from being able to make the last part happen.

I Know Where I'm Going...

Despite knowing the Powell & Pressburger influence on GO, I hadn't realised the episode 'I Know Where I'm Going' was named after a P&P movie! Flipping TV channels this evening, it was on BBC just as a bright eyed maid was travelling to Scotland and singing about a disreputable lover...

Aziraphale nipping up to Edinburgh, thinking about his devil dear...? So many LAYERS.

[undertheopensky]

Concealed

Whumptober Day 15: Suppressed Suffering

Characters: Four

Trigger warnings: Stab wound, blood, electrocution, violence to a child (if you personally consider Four a child)

Spoiler warnings: This is set in the TotK Hyrule, so there may be some environment-related spoilers!

Read on Ao3!

-----

Four huddles in a dark corner, nursing bruises and a new disdain for Wild’s ‘Yiga’ cult.

They definitely hadn’t been prepared to hold onto someone child-sized. Even at their tightest, it had only cost Four a little skin and some time to wriggle free of the manacles, and that gap above the door was clearly not supposed to be large enough to fit a whole person through. Sometimes, the side-effects of being immersed in Minish magic at such a young age came in handy.

Now, his main problem is just that they’re fucking everywhere.

We have got to help Wild clear some of these bastards out, Blue grumbles. I thought he said they were a splinter group?

Well they’re clearly a sizeable splinter group, says Vio, now shut up and let me focus. We have to time this just right.

Four waits for the guard to turn away from the tunnel he wants, and darts forward. He’s following the pull of fresh air, the sense of relief that is the earth spilling an opening to the outside world, rather than a map or empirical exploration. Which is great, because these tunnels are ridiculous, he’d get so lost doing that. It’s rooms upon rooms and tunnels that all look the same, except for however many fucking Yiga inhabit each one. He’d call it a miracle none of them have caught him yet, but they don’t seem… all that bright. He’d overheard a three-way argument on the best way to cook bananas, with a fourth person proudly chiming in about how the Hero had told him to try freezing them and they were amazing, only to get dogpiled by the others because when did you talk to the Hero?! Why didn’t you kill him?! “But banana ice cream!” they wailed from the bottom of the heap. “It’s so good, you have to try it!”

Blue in particular is offended they’d been captured by these guys, though Green is also not pleased.

All the wet stone and moss makes for slippery footing. It makes it even harder to get out without attracting attention, struggling not to flail or fall over or do anything attention grabbing.

This doesn’t seem very safe, Red muses. Four is climbing up a wall, very carefully choosing his grips and praying no one looks up.

Who the fuck even has a tunnel that people have to climb vertically?!

It doesn’t look like it was carved, says Green. Maybe it’s just the way the cave happened?

Ignoring all of them, Four peers over his shoulder as he nears the lip of the overhang to make sure no one can see him. Fortunately there’s a stack of crates in the way, so he climbs up using them as cover.

Look at all the moss on the stone, no one uses this as a regular path, Vio is arguing. At best it’s utilised for air ventilation.

I still think it’s fucking stupid to just have an open hole any idiot can fall down in your secret base!

“Maybe it’s how they weed out the stupidest,” Four mutters under his breath.

Red giggles guiltily.

The crates make a great but ultimately unnecessary barrier; no one’s in the room or any of the nearest corridors. Four creeps onwards. Distant laughter echoes; he can’t help tensing, despite knowing it’s just another card game. Identities hidden behind masks and magic, even their voices sound the same, and that eerily-similar laughter was the last thing he heard before waking up in a moss-covered cell. Some part of him still expects the cold touch of a blade or a hard fist to be waiting around every corner, punctuated by mocking laughter.

Four turns a corner and catches a glimpse of sunlight, a snatch of pine-scented air.

His heart leaps. The exit!

There’s no one along this stretch of tunnel, probably because of the small cliff he has to climb. Why bother guarding something no one will bother with, or will fall down like a blind idiot and then lie around moaning over their broken leg?

Blue’s annoying but he’s not wrong. The cliff is high enough to force Four to shove a crate up against it to climb onto first, since he isn’t Wild and can’t climb like a lizard with thumbs. They must not use this entrance much if there isn’t so much as a ladder for access. Goddess, he can see the sky from here, he can even see the castle.

Four takes the last few steps at a run, desperate to feel sunlight again -

Pain bursts in his side.

“Haha! So the great Hero thought he could sneak past me…”

The words fade into meaningless noise. Lost in static, Four staggers as the blade is yanked back. He nearly falls. Doesn’t, thanks to the combined efforts of the four screaming Colours in his head, pulling at every muscle to lock him in place until the dizziness hardens. One shaking hand comes up to cup the new wound, blood hot and wet and flooding his fingers.

The Yiga is just standing there, Four’s blood dripping off their wicked hooked blade.

He doesn’t stick around to see what their next move will be. He runs.

The steep grade of the path yanks gasping sobs from him with every agonising step. Even breathing hurts. It pulls at the new hole in his side every time he inhales. In his mind the Colours are a strained hum. They all experience the same pain, the same fear; all their words have fled in the face of it.

Instinct drags him towards the heavy shadows and reaching trees of the forest. Maybe it’s the promise of hiding places; maybe it’s the memory of the Minish Woods, a lifelong haven for them. Whatever the case, the dappled shadows and thick underbrush are a visceral relief.

…they should be hunting him by now. Even if that guard was too incompetent to call for backup, someone had to have found his empty cell.

He’s stumbling, dizzy with pain and shock. He needs to get away - needs to get enough distance - but he’s so slow right now there’s no way they won’t outpace him -

Voices. Loud, angry; the sound of metal on metal.

Out of time.

The tree is so ancient that its roots cradle empty hollows where the dirt of centuries has been washed away by rain. Four crawls into this empty space, burrowing into the thick carpet of leaves. He hopes the bright colours will disguise any blood that he gets on them in the process.

Burying his nose in musty dirt to hide his breath, he waits.

The voices come closer.

“- you kidding me?! In the time it took you to remember to do your rounds he could have made it off the Plateau entirely! He could be anywhere by now!”

“Aw, come off it, Marn! None of us thought the kid would get out of those chains!”

“Besides, I’ve been wanting to test this thing out!”

There’s a crackling sound Four is all-too familiar with. His eyes widen, and he shoves as much of his bracer-covered forearm in his mouth as he can manage before -

Thunder booms directly overhead.

Four feels it more than hears it. Ears ringing, brain whiting out, electricity dancing over his skin; the pain that had been radiating from his side is overridden by the lightning in every nerve screaming to life. It goes on, and on, and on -

Then it stops, just as suddenly as it started.

Four lies in the leaves, gulping air that burns, and knows he screamed through the makeshift gag. Can only pray it did enough, just as he can only pray no one was looking at this pile of leaves while his body thrashed and jerked. He’s in no condition to stand up, much less run, if the Yiga noticed him.

His ears still ring.

Through the buzz, he hears more shouting, but it takes a moment for the words to register. The Yiga are fighting - arguing, rather.

“Oam, what in the DAMNED HELL was that for?!”

“It’s lightning! If he was in range, he woulda gone down like a sack of rocks!”

“You idiot!” There’s the sound of someone being smacked upside the head. “There’s no way he’s still close enough! You just zapped all of us instead! And look, you called up a damn thunderstorm! Quick, everyone get inside!”

Four lies very very still in the fallen leaves, waiting for the footsteps to fade away.

Then he drags himself up, clamps a hand over the still-bleeding wound in his side, and starts to move.

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 4: Haunted

[elliewiltarwyn]

Roevember Day 13: Competition

"What in the--wow!! The challenger's really not holding back! She's going all out; it's all the Claw in the Dark can do to keep up! Ha ha - this competition looks like it'll be one for the ages, folks!"

[itsnotjustgibberish]

“The flames keep on beckoning, but I won’t let this forest burn for me.”

The Forest For The Trees will not leave my brain I adore both the song and music video so very much. I want to make for art for it once July has passed since I’m a bit more focused on Artfight at the moment, but for now here’s what I suppose would be ‘sonas’ for this song.

Anyways. Love this song it’s already become very personal and important to me, and I have so many thoughts about the meanings, as well as the specific symbolism for these designs, but I do not feel the need to articulate them right now. Perhaps I will at another point

[sage-nebula]

There are two wolves inside me. One wolf wants to just let people have their fun, believing what they want. The other is feral and wants to tear apart the internet to source and direct link to every interview where Alex Hirsch says that Dipper is him as a child (with traits exaggerated), Mabel is his twin sister Ariel as a child (with traits exaggerated), Stan is their grandpa Stan (with traits exaggerated), and the show's premise is both a love letter to the childhood he spent with his sister and also, more specifically, the summers they would spend at their great-aunt's cabin, where they would be bored but required to keep daily journals and his would be stories he made up about encountering creatures and oddities in the woods around them. And this is all because the feral wolf is going to go from feral to savage if it sees one more post suggesting the actual core pillar of the show is Bill/Ford, rather than the found family (Alex Hirsch's own words!) the show is actually about, and the three based-on-real-people-including-Alex-himself characters in the middle of it.

[moodyzines]

I’m already planning it out gang

[cathalbravecog]

QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK

[braisedhoney]

hey bud, can you pass the wine instead of spilling it everywhere pretty please

(super experimental bc i need practice with perspective and lighting lol. tried to limit my color palette and not use any blending modes either. fun challenge!!)

[purble-gaymer]

i am not a buffoon! i don’t even know what a buffoon is! seriously, what is it? some type of monkey? (new chapter!)

[thecryptidart1st]

*painstakingly goes through multiple files and extracts individual characters to make a new business card for Lightbox Expo*

[pallases]

mm.