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d1stalker · 29 days

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The Feeling's Mutual | Part Three

Summary: At last, you're about to face whatever—or whoever—is behind all this chaos, but what you uncover will haunt you, and Logan's connection to it makes you realize that you’re only a piece in someone else’s game

PART ONE | PART TWO | FINAL PART

Warnings: canon-level violence, manipulation, soft moments, plot-twist WC: 7.9k - MASTERLIST

----

Well, this is it.

The day you and Logan have decided on to investigate the location has come. Standing side-by-side, you both peer down at the old rusted metal grate beneath your feet. It creaks ominously under your combined weight, the sound echoing through the empty lot.

You can’t help the grimace that crosses your face as you take a step closer to the edge. "Please tell me this isn’t a sewer," you mutter, the disgust in your voice impossible to hide.

Logan shoots you a sideways glance, his expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Not a sewer," he grumbles. "And even if it was, we got a job to do. Now shut up and focus."

"Just saying," you mumble under your breath, rolling your eyes. "If we're about to wade through god-knows-what, I might need a minute to mentally prepare."

Your remark is ignored as he crouches down to grip the edge of the grate. With a grunt of effort, he lifts it up, revealing a gaping hole that descends into darkness. A musty, stale smell wafts up from below, and you can’t help but wrinkle your nose in distaste. Already securing the grate to the side so it won’t fall back into place, he straightens up and gives you a pointed look. "You ready?".

"Yeah," you reply, bracing yourself, and trying to sound more confident than you feel. "Let’s get this over with."

Logan gives a short nod before pulling out a flashlight from his belt, clicking it on. The beam of light cuts through the darkness below, revealing a rusty ladder bolted to the side of the tunnel. The metal rungs look old and worn, covered in grime and dust, but they seem sturdy enough. Without hesitation, hesteps forward, testing the ladder with one hand before starting his descent.

You watch as he climbs down. The tunnel seems to swallow him whole, and soon all you can see is the faint glow of his flashlight moving deeper into the darkness.

"Come on," his voice echoes up from below, gruff but encouraging.

You take one last look at the dim, overcast sky above before gripping the cold metal of the ladder and starting down after him. The further you descend, the colder and damper the air becomes, clinging to your skin like a shroud. The sound of your own breathing is unnervingly loud in the confined space, and the occasional drip of water from above only adds to the uncanny atmosphere.

As your feet finally touch solid ground, you let out a small breath of relief, but the oppressive darkness around you quickly snuffs out any sense of comfort. The tunnel is narrow, the walls slick with moisture, and the air smells of damp earth and rusted metal.

Logan’s flashlight beam cuts through the abyss, revealing a long, empty passageway stretching out before you. The walls are lined with old pipes and cables, some of which look like they haven’t been used in decades. The faint hum of electricity buzzes in the background, the only sign that this place might still be connected to the world above.

"Isn’t this just cozy," you say sarcastically, as you click on your own flashlight, adding a second beam of light to murky gloom.

He shoots you a look, like he’s trying to keep you calm. "Ain’t nobody enjoyin’ this," he says. "But we’ve got to check it out. Could be nothin’, or it could be somethin’ we need to deal with."

You hum, forcing yourself to focus. The truth is, you have no idea what’s down there—whether it’s just an abandoned tunnel or something more sinister. That uncertainty gnaws at you, making each step feel heavier than the last. You remind yourself that Logan wouldn’t be here if he didn’t think it was important. He’s got a sense for these things, a gut feeling that’s saved both your asses more than once.

"Stay sharp," he says, his voice a low rumble. "There could be traps set up, or worse—mutants under control waitin' for us."

The tunnel seems to go on forever, each step echoing back to you like a warning. The beam of your flashlight dances across the uneven floor, picking out old, broken pipes, patches of moss, and the occasional rat scurrying away into the darkness. The air gets cooler the further you go, the damp chill seeping into your bones.

"How far do you think this goes?" you whisper.

"Hard to say," he replies, his eyes fixed straight ahead. "But we’ll know when we’re gettin’ close. Trust me."

Even though you can’t see in the dark,you nod. The two of you move cautiously down the tunnel, the only light coming from your flashlights. Every creak, every drip, every distant clank of metal sets your nerves on edge. It’s all so oppressive, as if the walls themselves are closing in on you, the weight of the earth pressing down from above.

"Ever get the feeling you’re being watched?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light, but you feel genuine fear.

Logan doesn’t miss a beat. "All the damn time," he grunts, his eyes flicking to every shadow, every dark corner. "Keep your head in the game, Knifey. We ain’t alone down here."

His steps slow ahead as you approach a corner where the tunnel bends sharply to the left. He holds up a hand, signaling you to stop as he slowly walks forward, checking to see if there is anything hiding. You freeze in place, your heart pounding in your ears as you listen. For a moment, the only sounds are the steady drip of water and the faint rustling of something—probably a rat—somewhere in the dark.

When you round the bend, the passage suddenly opens up into a larger chamber, the walls lined with more old, rusted equipment. The floor is uneven, slick with dampness, and the space feels almost too large, as if it’s swallowing the sound of your footsteps entirely.

"Feels like a setup," you whisper, your eyes darting around the chamber.

He hums grimly, his senses on high alert. "We’ll move fast, hit hard if we need to."

You both move cautiously into the center of the chamber, your flashlights sweeping the room. The emptiness is unsettling, the silence even more so. There’s no sign of life, no indication that anyone—or anything—has been here recently.

Then, in the far corner of the room, your flashlight catches something—a small metal door, half hidden behind a stack of old crates. It’s slightly ajar, just enough to let a sliver of darkness leak through.

"That’s gotta be it," you say.

"Stay behind me," he orders.

Nodding, you follow close as he approaches the door. The tension is palpable, every nerve in your body hyper-aware. The closer you get, the more you can feel it—the oppressive presence that seems to emanate from behind that door, like a thick, invisible fog.

He reaches out, pushing the door open with a creak that echoes through the chamber. The darkness inside is absolute, swallowing the beam of your flashlights like a black hole. You can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, your instincts screaming at you that something isn’t right.

The room beyond is large and dimly lit, the walls lined with screens displaying endless streams of data, numbers, and images flashing by in rapid succession. In the center of the room, a figure stands with their back to you, seemingly engrossed in their work.

As Logan steps forward, you can feel the tension radiating off him in waves, a stiffness that mirrors your own. His body is coiled tight, muscles flexing beneath his skin, ready to spring into action at any moment. His claws slide out slowly, gleaming dangerously in the low light. With a menacing growl, he commands, "Turn around."

The figure doesn’t react immediately, their movements unhurried, almost casual. Then, slowly, they turn to face you, and the shadows reveal a woman with sharp, severe features. Her eyes are frosty, cunning, but there’s a glint of satisfaction in them that sends a shiver down your spine. When her eyes settle on the man next to you, a cruel smile spreads across her lips.

"Hello, Wolverine," she purrs, her voice dripping with venom. There’s a twisted pleasure in the way she speaks his name, as if savouring every syllable.

Logan’s eyes narrow, and something something haunting and painful crosses his face. "Shadowmind," he spits, full of contempt and hatred. The name rolls off his tongue like a curse, heavy with the weight of what must be their shared history.

Your gaze snaps to him, practically breaking your neck as you turn your head. Your heart pounding in your chest, and you can feel the tension in the room thickening, almost suffocating. "You know her?" you whisper, desperate for understanding.

He nods, though his eyes never leave the woman, the intensity of his gaze enough to burn through steel. "Yeah," he mutters. "She was one of the experiments in Weapon X. Thought I killed her."

Shadowmind’s smile widens, her features gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "You almost did," she replies bitterly, her tone laced with fury and twisted pride. "But you didn’t quite finish the job, did you, Wolvie? You left me broken, traumatized… but not dead. And now, I’m going to make sure you regret that."

His claws twitch, his hands flexing with the barely contained fury boiling just beneath the surface. "So all of this—sending those mutants after humans, after us—it was all to get to me?"

She nods slowly, the smile never fading from her lips as her gaze shifts to you, her eyes raking over you like a predatory its prey. "At first, yes," she confesses, almost conversationally, as if they’re discussing the weather. "I wanted to draw you out, make you suffer. I thought having mutants wreak havoc on people would get your attention. But then…" She trails off, her eyes lighting up with a twisted joy as a manic cackle bursts from her throat, bouncing off the walls of the chamber. "Then she fought back and killed them! Your little friend here is a mutant—and a powerful one. She made my job so much easier.”

You felt like you had just been bitch-slapped by the biggest bitch of all time. All of the attacks, all of the deaths—they weren’t just random acts of violence. Yes, you acted in self defence, but you didn’t know they were being controlled. You didn’t know that you were a mutant. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have killed them. Guilt starts crawling up your throat—you might throw up.

"You twisted them," Logan seethes dangerously, like the rumble of thunder before a storm. His eyes burn with a rage that’s barely held in check, the kind of anger that promises violence. "You twisted those mutants’ minds just to get at me. Made them your fucking pawns.”

Shadowmind shrugs, the gesture so nonchalant it scares you. "I did what I had to," she says cooly, while bringing her hand up to her face as she looks at her nails. "You took everything from me, Wolvie. My life, my sanity… now it’s time for you to lose something."

Then, you scream.

It’s a raw, painful sound that scratches your throat as it crawls up and out of your mouth. Your mind feels like it is being split in two, the agony so intense that you can’t even think. Your hands fly to your head, clutching it as if you can physically hold yourself together. The flashlight slips from your fingers, clattering to the ground with a hollow, clanking sound that echoes in the room. Your vision blurs, the world around you spinning as you struggle to stay upright.

Logan’s head whips toward yours, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of something in his eyes you’ve never seen before—terror. Pure, unfiltered terror etched into his features, cutting through the usual stoic mask he wears. "Fight it!" he shouts, his voice sharp, urgent, but it feels distant, like he’s speaking from the end of a long tunnel. "Don’t let her take control!"

You try to obey, to resist the overwhelming force pressing down on your mind, but it’s like trying to swim against a riptide. Your limbs betray you, moving without your consent, and you can only feel horror wash over you as your hand reaches for the blade hidden in the side of your boot. Your fingers close around the hilt, the metal cold and familiar, but the ease with which you lift it feels wrong—alien.

"Logan, I—" You choke out, desperately trying to warn him, but the words come out strangled, distorted by the crushing weight of Shadowmind’s influence. The connection between your mind and body is fraying, slipping away.

Then it happens. Her grip tightens around your consciousness, squeezing until everything goes black. The world around you dissolves into a dark, endless void where the only sound is the incessant whispering of voices, all chanting the same sinister command: Kill him. Destroy him. Hurt him.

You can’t think. You can’t see. It’s like you’re drowning in a sea of dark, suffocating orders, your own thoughts buried beneath the onslaught of the woman’s will. The weapon in your hand feels heavy, but it’s not your hand anymore—it’s hers. Your body is no longer your own.

"Fight it!" A voice tries to cut through the fog, but it’s distant, muffled, like he’s shouting at you from underwater. It’s too far away, too weak compared to the relentless chorus in your head. Kill. Hurt. Destroy.

Without conscious thought, your body moves. The lava-like energy surges through your veins, your hands glowing an intense, fiery orange, the heat building until it feels like you just stuck your hand in a volcano. You lunge at Logan, the blade slashing through the air with a ferocity that isn’t yours.

He barely dodges the strike, his claws moving as he counters your attack. "Push back, don’t let her in!" he yells desperately as he blocks another of your strikes, the force behind it sending him staggering back a few metrs. But you can’t hear him—not really.

Your powers flare uncontrollably, the heat in your hands intensifying until it feels like your skin is about to burst into flames. A scream that’s more Shadowmind’s than your own tears from your throat, and you swing your fist. The molten energy collides with his claws, heating through the adamantium like it’s nothing. He grunts in pain but doesn’t back down. Instead, he grabs your wrist, trying to pull you out of the mental prison you’re trapped in.

"Come on, Knifey! I know you’re in there!" His voice is fervent, pleading.

"Poor little Wolverine. Can’t even protect your little friend?” Shadowmind’s tyrannical laughter echoes through your thoughts. “She’s mine now. You can’t save her. Just like you couldn’t kill me.”

He grits his teeth, his muscles straining, hands melting, as he tries to hold back the power surging through you. But the voices won’t let you stop. They won’t let you think. You’re just a puppet on strings, forced to do this woman’s bidding. You lash out with your other hand, the blade slicing across Logan’s side, drawing blood. He hisses in pain but refuses to let go, his grip on your wrist tightening as he tries to bring you back to yourself.

"I know you can break free!" Logan shouts, his voice cracking with emotion. "You’re stronger than her!"

Shadowmind’s grip is ironclad, her control absolute. The whispering in your head grow louder, more frantic. Kill him. Hurt him. Finish him. You wrench your arm free from Logan’s grasp and drive your fist into his stomach, pushing him back against the wall.

He stumbles but doesn’t fall. He fights back with everything he has, his claws slashing through the air as he tries to subdue you without killing you. It’s no use—neither of you can die, and she knows it. She’s watching the two of you tear each other apart, a smile on her lips like she’s enjoying a show.

"You can’t stop it, Logan," She taunts. “You’re just delaying the inevitable."

His eyes flash in desperation as he roars in frustration, dodging another one of your attacks before grabbing you by the shoulders. "Fight it, damn it! " he shouts, shaking you. "Don’t let her win!"

But you just can’t. It’s impossible. The sounds—the whispers—block out everything, leaving you with nothing but the burning need to obey. You slam your fist into the clawed mutant’s side again.

"Come back to me!" he yells. "Come back to me!"

To shut him up, your hands grab him by the back of the neck and, with all your strength, you slam his head against the concrete wall. The impact is sickening, the sound of bone hitting stone reverberating through the chamber.

Logan’s body goes limp, his grip on your shoulders loosening as he crumples to the ground, unconscious. The voices suddenly go silent, the mental chains around your mind shattering as Shadowmind’s control slips away.

You blink, disoriented, the world around you coming back into focus. Your hands are still glowing with that flowing energy, your heart racing as the realization of what you’ve done sinks in. You look down at your friend’s motionless form, horror flooding your veins.

"What… what did you make me do?" you whisper, your voice trembling as you take a step back, staring at your hands as if they belong to someone else.

Shadowmind laughs, the sound cold and mocking. "You did exactly what I wanted you to do," she says sweetly, sickeningly sweet. "You proved that no matter how strong you think you are, I can break you. Both of you."

You shake your head. "This isn’t over," you say, anger and fear dowsing you. "We’ll come for you. We’ll end this."

Her smile widens, a dark, knowing look in her eyes. "Oh, I’m counting on it," she says softly, almost affectionately in its cruelty. "But for now, I think I’ll let you live with what you’ve done. After all, the real torture comes from the inside, doesn’t it?"

She waves a hand dismissively, and the remnants of the mental pressure that had been suffocating you vanishes completely. The sudden release makes you lurch forward, your knees nearly buckling as the full weight of your actions crashes down on you. The chamber feels like it's closing in, it’s hard to breathe as you watch Shadowmind step back toward the console, her gaze lingering on Logan’s unconscious form with a sense of triumph

"I’ll be waiting, Wolverine," she says. "And next time, I’ll make sure you both suffer."

With that, she melts into the shadows, disappearing like a phantom, leaving you alone in the silent chamber with Logan’s still form. The only sound that breaks the quiet is your ragged breathing, the pounding of your heart a deafening roar in your ears.

You drop to your knees beside him, your hands trembling violently as you reach out to touch him, your fingers hesitating, afraid of what you’ll find. Relief floods through you when you feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, his breaths shallow but present. But the sight of the blood trickling down from where wound would have been on his head—where you slammed him against the wall—makes your stomach churn with guilt.

"I’m sorry," you whisper, your voice cracking as tears blur your vision. "I’m so sorry, Logan…"

He doesn’t respond, his face pale and still. For what feels like an eternity, you just sit there, cradling his head in your lap, your fingers brushing through his hair, now matted with blood.

----

After a few more minutes, and with trembling hands, you manage to lift Logan’s unconscious form, his body limp in your arms, and haul him onto your back. Thanks to your mutant strength, he’s not heavy—physically, you can carry him with ease—but the emotional weight of it, the burden of what you’ve done, makes him feel like he weighs a thousand pounds.

The Wolverine, silent and motionless—it’s something you’ve never seen before, and it’s terrifying.

The tunnel is dark and seemingly endless as you make your way back, every step feeling like a battle against the overwhelming tide of despair threatening to pull you under. Tears stream down your face, silent and unchecked, as you hold onto him, his head resting against your shoulder.

Eventually, you reach the van, the sight of it a small beacon in the abyss. With great care, you lower his body into the back, laying him down as gently as you can. His face is still so pale, his breaths too shallow, and the sight makes you feel worse.

You climb into the van beside him, your hands trembling as you search for something to wipe away the blood. Once you find a cloth, you gently stroke his face. The only response is the rhythmic sound of his breathing, and the silence that fills the van is suffocating. You lean over him, your forehead resting against his as tears continue to spill from your eyes. "I’ll fix this," you vow. "I’ll find a way to fix this… I promise."

----

The drive back to the warehouse is a blur. Logan doesn’t stir, not even when the van hits a rough patch of road. Not even when you make a shitty turn. You keep glancing back at him, hoping to see those familiar eyes staring back at you, but there’s nothing. Just the steady rise and fall of his chest.

When you finally arrive at the warehouse, you just sit there, gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turn white. Then you move.

You slowly slide Logan out of the van, his weight heavy against you as you half-drag, half-carry him toward the bed—his bed. The place where you’ve slept for the past few nights while he took the couch. Laying him down, your hands shake vigorously as you arrange him as comfortably as you can.

He’s still unresponsive, and all you can do is sit beside him, your heart hammering in your chest as you wait, watching him closely for any sign that he’s waking up. The minutes drag on, each one feeling like an eternity. Your mind races, replaying every second of the fight, the way Shadowmind twisted your thoughts, the way your body had moved against your will.

You’re lost in those dark thoughts when you finally see it—a faint twitch of his fingers, a slight furrow in his brow. Your breath catches in your throat as his eyes flutter open, slowly focusing on the ceiling above him. For a split second, he looks disoriented, then those steel eyes shift toward you.

Before you can stop yourself, you practically launch yourself at him, covering his body with yours, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. The suddenness of it makes him stiffen for a moment, his body tensing under your touch. But then, slowly, you feel him relax, his arms wrapping around your waist in return, holding you close.

His broad chest is warm and solid beneath yours, the strength in his arms grounding you in a way that makes you think nothing else can. You can feel the beat of his heart, steady and strong, and it calms the storm inside you just a little. Letting yourself melt into the embrace, the overwhelming relief of feeling him alive and whole washes over you.

But then your thoughts catch up to you, and you pull back slightly, your heart racing for an entirely different reason. What the hell am I doing? You force yourself to push away the thoughts of how good it felt to be in his arms, how comforting his strength was. Not the time or place.

When you make eye contact, you realize how close you still are. Your faces are just inches apart, and for a mere moment, neither of you move. His eyes, intense and unreadable, lock onto yours, and you feel a jolt of something electric shoot through you.

"Logan, I’m—" you start to apologize, but the words catch in your throat.

He shakes his head slightly, silencing you with a look. "It wasn’t you," he says softly, tightening his hold. "I know it wasn’t you."

The sincerity in his eyes almost breaks you, but you manage to hold it together. The two of you sit there in silence, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. And yet, there’s something else too—something that lingers in the way your gazes stay locked a moment too long, in the way his hands still rest on your hips, the warmth of his touch seeping through your skin.

You pull back completely, breaking the moment. Standing up, you take a deep breath to steady yourself, trying to ignore the way your heart is still racing.

"I was really worried that I actually hurt you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper as you look anywhere but at him.

Logan sits up slowly, his movements a little stiff, but he’s already recovering. "I’m tough to get rid of," he says, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes are serious. "But thanks."

You nod, swallowing hard as you try to shake off the residual tension. "You should rest," you say, gesturing to the bed.

He studies you for a moment, as if he’s trying to read something in your expression. Then he yields, lying back down, but not before he gives you one last look. "You need rest too, Knifey.”

"Yeah," you agree. "I will."

But as you walk away, you can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the memory of his arms around you, and you can’t help but wonder what the hell just happened between you.

----

The warehouse falls into an uneasy silence after you step away from the bedside. The faint light filters through the cracks in the windows, casting shadows across the cluttered space. You move to a nearby chair, sinking into it with a heavy sigh, your mind still spinning from everything that’s happened. The weight of what you did under Shadowmind’s control sits heavily on your chest, the guilt plaguing you even as you try to focus on the immediate future.

You can hear Logan’s breathing slow and even out as he drifts back to sleep, his body needing time to recover from the ordeal. You know he’s right—both of you need rest—but you can’t bring yourself to close your eyes just yet. The memory of the fight, of your body acting against your will, is too fresh, too raw. You keep replaying the moment you slammed his head against the wall, the sickening sound of the impact still reverberating in your ears.

Time passes slowly. The warehouse is quiet, save for the occasional creak of old metal and the distant hum of the city outside. You sit there, watching over the mutant, your body refusing to relax. Eventually, exhaustion starts to creep in, and your eyelids grow heavy, but every time you start to drift off, you’re jolted awake by the memories.

After what feels like hours, the first rays of dawn begin to pierce the darkness. There isn’t much light, but it brings a sliver of comfort, a reminder that the night is over. You glance over at Logan, who is still asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. Despite the bruises and the cuts that have healed, he looks peaceful—something you don’t often see.

Unable to sit still any longer, you get up and start pacing the warehouse, trying to work off the restless energy that’s been building up inside you. The physical movement helps clear your mind a little, but it doesn’t do much to ease the knot of emotions tangled up in your chest.

As you walk, your thoughts keep circling back to Shadowmind. The way she taunted you, the way she manipulated your mind so effortlessly—it’s infuriating. And then there’s the way Logan looked at you afterward, the way he didn’t want your apology. When you remember the way his strong arms around you, the way you felt so small but safe in his embrace… It sends a chill throughout your body, and you quickly shake off the thought.

Focus, you tell yourself. There’s no time for this. You have a job to do.

Yet even as you try to push those thoughts away, they keep creeping back, resurfacing whenever you’re not paying attention. The connection you felt in that brief moment of vulnerability lingers, and it’s unsettling. Your friendship with him has improved tremendously within the last week, building on trust and mutual respect, but this…this feels different, and you’re not sure how to deal with it.

By the time the sun is fully up, you’re mentally and physically exhausted. You decide to make some coffee, hoping the routine task will help ground you. The familiar sounds of the coffee maker, the scent of fresh brew filling the air, offer a small comfort. You pour yourself a cup, savoring the warmth as it spreads through your body, chasing away the last remnants of the night’s chill.

Sitting back down, cradling the mug in your hands, you hear movement behind you. You turn to see Logan stirring, his eyes blinking open as he slowly pushes himself up into a sitting position. He looks around, taking in the light streaming through the windows before his gaze settles on you.

"Morning," he mutters, his voice rough with sleep.

"Morning," you whisper. "How’re you feeling?"

Logan stretches, wincing slightly as he does, his muscles protesting the movement. "Feels like I got hit by a truck," he mutters with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. But then, his expression softens, the humor fading from his eyes as he looks at you with genuine concern. "But I’ll be fine. You?"

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to answer. "I’m… okay," you finally say, though you’re not sure if that’s entirely true. After a moment, you add, "I just… I’m sorry, Logan. For what happened. For what I did."

He shakes his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes it clear he doesn’t want you to carry this burden. "I told you, it wasn’t you. Shadowmind’s the one to blame, not you. You fought her as hard as you could."

"But I still—" you start, but he cuts you off with a look.

"You didn’t have a choice," he says firmly, leaving no room for argument. "And we’re going to make sure she pays for what she did. Together."

The mention of her name—Shadowmind—casts a shadow over Logan’s face. It’s the same haunted look you saw down in the tunnels, when he saw her again. There’s clearly more to the story, more to the pain that’s etched into his expression. You hesitate, unsure if you should press further, but curiosity and concern for him win out. "Logan," you ask quietly, "who is she? What’s the history between you two?"

He leans back against the wall, the tension in his body not easing but shifting as he gathers his thoughts. Sucking in a harsh breath, you can tell that whatever he’s about to say is something he rarely, if ever, shares.

"Her real name is Lorna Mallory," he begins, his voice carrying the weight of memories long buried but never forgotten. "We crossed paths years ago, back when I was with Weapon X."

"She was one of the many mutants that Weapon X experimented on," Logan continues bitterly. "She had powerful telepathic and telekinetic abilities, but the scientists wanted to push her beyond her limits, see just how much they could get out of her. They messed with her mind, twisted it, just like they did with me. But Lorna… she wasn’t like the others. She fought back, hard. She wouldn’t let them break her."

He pauses, his eyes distant, as if he’s seeing the past play out in front of him. You can almost picture it too—the cold, sterile labs, the cruel, calculating scientists, and the unending pain they inflicted on those they deemed as nothing more than tools. "I was different back then. More… feral, more under their control. They used me as their weapon, their enforcer. And when Lorna started resisting, they sent me after her."

Your heart sinks as you begin to piece together the story, the tragic and brutal connection between Logan and Shadowmind. "What did they make you do?" you ask, though part of you dreads hearing the answer.

His jaw clenches, his muscles tightening so much so it’s like he’s physically bracing himself for the confession. He looks away, unable to meet your eyes, the shame and regret palpable in the air between you. "They sent me to stop her. To… subdue her," he gets out. "I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t in control of myself any more than you were back there."

Finally, he looks at you. "I attacked her. Hurt her badly. But she survived. Barely. The damage I did wasn’t just physical—it shattered her mind. Turned her into the monster she is now."

The room is laden with the weight of Logan’s confession.

"And now she wants revenge," you say quietly, understanding the gravity of the situation.

He nods grimly. "She’s been waiting for this chance. I think in some twisted way, she blames me for everything that happened to her. And she’s right. I was the one who pushed her over the edge."

"But it wasn’t your fault," you insist, repeating the words he had said to you earlier. You can see the parallels between your situation and his, both of you victims of forces beyond your control. "They used you, just like she used me."

He doesn’t seem convinced. "Doesn’t change what I did. And now, she’s come back to finish what she started. She wanted to lure me out, make me suffer, and when she found you, she saw a way to do it."

You can see the pain in his eyes, the guilt that he’s been carrying for so long. It’s clear that this fight with Shadowmind isn’t just about survival for him—it’s personal.

Reaching forward, you grab his hands in yours, holding them tightly. "We’ll stop her," you say. "We’ll find her and put an end to this."

Logan looks at you, a flicker of something softer passing through his gaze. "Yeah," he agrees quietly. "We will."

----

The two of you decide to spend the next week doing nothing. There isn’t much to do anyway, you know your goal, you just have to act on it. But you don’t want to—not now. You want to savour these moments with Logan where it feels like you hadn’t tried to kill him. Where, for a little while, you can forget about the darkness that still persists in the corners of your mind.

So much has changed, you think, since the encounter with Shadowmind. From the point that he shared more about his past, it’s like the floodgates have opened. Logan no longer hides behind his rough exterior, letting you in to see who he is when his guard isn’t up.

The small moments of bickering have turned into playful banter, the non-committal grunts have evolved into full-fledged conversations, and the sidelong glances have turned into lingering looks. What was once tension between you now feels like a quiet comfort, a connection that’s deepened with each passing day. You’ve gone from being reluctant allies to something more—something you’re not sure either of you are ready to name, but it’s there, undeniable in the way he stands a little closer, in the way his touch lasts just a little longer, in the way your heart skips a beat every time your eyes meet.

That’s why after a particularly quiet start to the day, you decide to cook something—a way repay Logan for letting you seek shelter with him, and lending his shoulder for you to lean on when you need to. But cooking has never been your strong suit, and as you stand in the kitchen, surrounded by half-chopped vegetables and a sauce that’s beginning to smell suspiciously burnt, you realize you might be in over your head.

Logan appears beside you as if summoned by the smell of impending disaster, his arms crossed over his chest, a bemused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You tryin’ to burn the place down, or what?"

Placing your hand on your hip in mock defiance, you huff, turning to face him. "I’m making dinner, obviously. Do you have eyes?”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "That what you call it? Smells like you’re tryin’ to poison us both."

You roll your eyes, but there’s a playful glint in them. "Ha ha, very funny. I’m just… experimenting."

Snorting, his amusement is evident as he steps into the kitchen, surveying the scene of culinary carnage. "Experimentin’? Well, let’s see what you’ve got so far." He peers into the pan, his expression growing even more dubious. "You know, maybe I should take over before you really do burn the place down."

You make a face, reluctantly stepping aside as he moves to the stove with the confidence of someone who’s rescued more than a few meals in his time. "Fine, but only because I don’t want you to complain about my cooking for the next week."

He chuckles, shaking his head as he starts to salvage the meal, adding a few more ingredients with practiced ease, adjusting the heat, and stirring with impressive skill–and you didn’t even know that stirring required skill!

You hover nearby, more a spectator than a helper at this point, and you go to reach for something on a high shelf—maybe the salt or some spices, you’re not entirely sure—but as you stretch, you lose your balance. Before you can grab the counter to stabilize yourself, Logan’s hands are suddenly on your hips, steadying you with a gentle grip. For a moment, you just stand there, your back pressed against his chest, the world narrowing down to the steady rhythm of his breath, the solid warmth of his body anchoring you.

"You okay?" he asks lowly, close to your ear.

A bit breathless, and feeling the solid warmth of him behind you, all you can do is nod and try your best to string together a sentence. "Yeah, just… clumsy."

He doesn’t let go immediately, his hands resting on your hips for a second longer, as if to make sure you’re really steady. When he finally does, you turn to face him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Thanks."

"Anytime,” he hums.

You both fall into a comfortable rhythm after that, working side by side in the kitchen. There’s a bit of bickering—mostly about your questionable cooking methods and his insistence on doing things his way—but it’s light, teasing, and you realize how much you love this. The ease, the banter, the way he seems to know exactly what you need without you having to say a word.

And when you sit down to eat later, the meal actually turning out better than you expected, there’s a sense of calm that settles between you. He catches your eye, and there’s something in his gaze—something warm, reassuring. "See? Told ya I’d make sure we didn’t get poisoned," he says with a small smirk.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. "Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too cocky."

An unexpected banging on the warehouse’s metal doors shatters the quiet moment. You and Logan freeze, both of you instinctively tensing as your eyes meet in confusion and alarm.

“Does anyone know you live here?” you ask tightly, eyebrows furrowed.

His expression darkens, his brows knitting together in a deep, foreboding frown. “Fuck no,” he growls.

The pounding on the door continues, relentless and ominous, each thud vibrating through the metal like a warning. Wordlessly, Logan moves toward the door, his steps slow and cautious, every muscle in his body taut and ready for whatever might be on the other side. You follow him closely, your senses on high alert, every nerve in your body tingling with anticipation.

He reaches the door and hesitates for a fraction of a second, his hand hovering over the latch. His eyes flick to you, a silent communication passing between you—be ready. Then, with a swift motion, he unlatches the door and yanks it open.

In an instant, a mutant leaps at him with insane intensity, teeth bared and claws outstretched. Logan barely has time to react before they’re both locked in a brutal struggle, his claws flashing out as he fends off the attack. The sheer force of the mutant’s assault drives them both back a few steps.

“Logan!” you shout with urgency as you watch them grapple with each other.

But before you can even think to help, a wave of mutants surges toward the open doorway, their movements are eerily synchronized, as if driven by a single, malevolent will. Panic surges through you, your instincts screaming at you to act. You lunge forward, grabbing the nearest mutant and hurling them back with all your strength. The mutant crashes into the others, causing a brief moment of chaos among them.

“Get the door!” Logan shouts over his shoulder, his voice rough with exertion as he continues to fend off the mutant still trying to tear him apart.

You rush to the door, throwing your weight against it as you struggle to push it closed. The mutants on the other side slam into the door with relentless force, their growls and snarls mingling with the metallic screeching of the hinges, turning the warehouse into a scene of barely controlled chaos. The metal groans under the strain, the door trembling against your efforts to hold it shut.

“Logan, help me!” you cry out, your voice strained as you use every ounce of your strength to keep the door from giving way. You might have super strength, but against a hoard of mutants? Impossible.

He finishes off the mutant he was grappling with, leaving the attacker a bloody mess on the floor, then he’s at your side in an instant, hands bracing against the door as he leans his full weight into it. The mutant who attacked him now lying on the floor, a bloody mess. Together, you manage to push the door closed, the sound of the latch clicking into place reaching your ears. But the pounding on the other side continues, the door shaking under the persistant assault of the mutants.

“They’re being mind-controlled,” you gasp, your breath coming in ragged gulps as the whole situation hits you. The fear it causes seeps into your bones. The thought of these mutants being puppeted, forced to attack against their will, is horrifying enough—but the idea that Shadowmind has found you and Logan, that she’s orchestrating this, petrifies you. “But how did they find us?”

Logan grunts, his face twisted in concentration as he braces his shoulder against the door. “No clue.”

A sudden, horrifying thought strikes you, and you feel your blood run cold. “The van,” you whisper, more to yourself than anything.

Realizing the same thing your thinking, his eyes widen. “Shit… the GPS tracker.” His voice thick with anger and frustration. “They must have used it to track us down.”

You curse under your breath. “How didn’t we think of that?”

But there was no time to think of that now. The door shakes violently as the mutants on the other side continue to slam into it, their growls and snarls growing louder, more frenzied. You can feel the door beginning to buckle under the pressure. You press harder, using every ounce of strength you have, but it’s clear the door won’t hold much longer.

“Fuck,” Logan mutters, understanding washing over him as his knuckles whiten against the door. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he looks like he’s staring down a ghost. “They’re here for me.”

“What?” you snap, turning to him with wide eyes, confused and afraid. “What do you mean they’re here for you?”

“This is Lorna’s doing, for sure,” he growls. “She wants me.”

The implication behind his words isn’t lost on you. Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach, a cold dread settling in. “No, no, no, don’t do this,” you plead, the desperation clear in your voice as your mind races to stop the train of thought you know is forming in Logan’s mind.

Your hands tighten on the door, as if you can physically hold him back from whatever reckless plan he’s considering. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Let me go,” he says firmly. “Let me see what she wants.”

“Are you out of your mind?” you exclaim. The thought of Logan walking out there alone, straight into Shadowmind’s trap, sends a new wave of terror crashing over you. “She’s going to kill you!”

He sends you a grim smirk. “I can’t die, remember?”

But the attempt at reassurance does nothing to quell the fear that’s twisting in your gut.

“Please, no,” you beg, voice breaking as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. The thought of losing him, of watching him walk into danger alone, is unbearable. “Why can’t we do this together? We’ve been through everything else side by side—don’t make me sit this one out.”

His expression softens for a split second, something tender and conflicted passing through his eyes. He reaches out as if to touch you, but stops himself short. “I can’t drag you into this any further than I already have,” he says lowly.

“Logan, please…” you start to say, but before you can finish, he pushes you back with a shove, the suddenness of it sending you stumbling as you try to regain your balance. The door creaks under the pressure from outside, but Logan doesn’t hesitate. He yanks it open, and with one last look at you, he steps through with a determined stride.

“NO!” you scream, but the door slams shut behind him before you can reach him. You’re left standing alone in the dim light of the warehouse, your heart pounding with fear, anger, and helplessness.

Rushing to the door, you press your ear against, trying to catch any sound, any sign of what’s happening outside. The muffled sounds of the struggle reach your ears—grunts of pain, the clash of claws and flesh, the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground. You can hear Logan’s grunts and snarls, his feral side taking over as he fights off the attackers, but there’s something else too—a sinister laughter, one that you heard once before, that sends chills down your spine.

“Logan!” you shout, banging on the door, your fists pounding against the cold metal. “Logan, don’t do this! Don’t you dare leave me alone in here!”

But the only response is the sound of the battle raging outside, growing more distant as if being carried away by the wind. Knowing that that Logan is out there alone, on his way to face whatever horrors Shadowmind has prepared, destroys you. You sink to your knees, the cold of the warehouse floor bleeding into your skin as everything crashes down on you.

----

A/N: so….how we feeling??? some Logan POV next chapter!!

----

TFM Taglist:

@wildefire @aliisa-jones @maximumchilddreamland @peony-always

@newromantics98 @ayamenimthiriel @fandomsunited @britttzy267

@mainly-me @icantevendood @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @d3kstar

@im-a-wh0r3 @lunaticgurly @xlocalxpunkx @yjck121 @paradisedixon

@writingthroughmyass @that-one-little-soybean @whxtewolf

comment to be added!

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persephone-tim · 1 year

Text

TMA concepts that I'm too lazy to do all of them but any of you can (and are encouraged to) use!!

Jon in front of a mirror looking at eyes appearing all over his face like spots and freaking out

Any beholding characters with loads of eyes of different colours and species

Annabelle cane with a violin. Idk where i got this from but i just it's PERFECT.

The barbie and ken template with the jail thingys (idk what they're called) but instead they're tapes and it's like jon as the miserable one and annabelle/elias/any avatar as the other

Nikola with a genderfluid pride flag. I might actually draw this one

A comic to involving gunpowder tim and tim stoker in the afterlife would be hilarious: "you only blew up one tiny building??"

Jon and Gerry laughing because jon has actual eyes in the same place Gerry has tattoos and their "matching"

Girls night out with helen, nikola, jane, annabelle, whoever else you want to add (jane MUST have a wine glass full of worms because like. Why would she not)

All of the avatars at a dinner party (i dread to think the food being served... Would it just be fear? Would elias just have a pile of eyes?)

That's all! Tag me if you use em!

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lizhaoyu · 7 months

Text

Why so shy? PART 2

(A/N): Hello, gaymers. I'm back at it again. Sorry for the late update, I've been busy malding in VALORANT lately. Thank you for all of the support in part 1, it means the world to me. Now, some of the things here are referenced to that one casual Iso fic. Huge thanks to whoever wrote that, I'm in love with that fic. I physically gagged and cringed at the part where I made the reader channel their idk to do sum shit I can't do this. Enjoy thirsting, gaymers.)

(I also accept requests, please request about Iso)

(Iso x Shy!GN!Reader)

Part 1

Part 2 (You are here.)

Part 3

Nervous.

That's exactly what you were feeling right now.

Not nervous for yourself, but for Iso.

Today marks the day of Iso's first ever mission in the VP. To your advantage, you were assigned as Iso's lead comms.

You were busying yourself with taking breathing exercises in KJ's command room.

Iso was gonna be hearing your voice, following your orders and intel, counting on you to tell him what to do at the right moment and he's probably gonna fall inlo-

A knock on the metal door of the command room broke your trail of thought. It opened, revealing Iso.

"Hey." Iso walked in with a small smile, nodding to you.

You look up from the mission brief that Brimstone gave you and look at Iso. This time, you actually managed to train yourself to try and not stutter in front of Iso. You're not exactly there yet, but you're trying your best.

"Hi, Iso. Ready for your mission?" You offer him a small smile, feeling a little nervous for him and his safety.

"Yeah. I made sure to read the brief at least five times." Iso nods.

"Better safe that sorry." You smile, typing in the last command needed to start the mission.

"Right, uh... I just wanted to say that I wish you a very good luck on your first mission." You try to smile despite your nervousness.

"Thank you, but... I don't understand why I have to do this mission alone." Iso sighs, shaking his head.

"Brimstone says that he thinks that you're strong enough to handle it yourself, but I think he just doesn't want to admit that everyone is busy with everything else, so they can't go with you." You stifle a laugh.

"But I agree with Brimstone, whether or not he thinks you're strong enough. Your abilities are really powerful and you handle yourself pretty well. I think you got this." You smile at him, trying your best to hide your blush.

"Thanks a lot for your encouragements, it helps a lot." Iso smiles.

"And our training sessions, too. They're really helping me improve." Iso adds.

That alone was enough to make your heart race faster than normal.

"A-Anyway, I'll be the lead, and only, comms for today's mission. If you have any questions, calling for backup, or need help locating the target, I can help." You explain, turning to the table behind you.

You carefully took an earpiece from the table, turning to Iso and offering it to him. He follows your gentleness, taking the earpiece with careful hands.

In the process, his fingers brushed against yours. It was enough to give you butterflies on your stomach.

"This is what we use to communicate to each other from great distances. You can talk to me or hear me through it." You explain, snapping out of your thoughts.

"We have two trackers on you. One on your phone that we requested you to add, and one on your earpiece. Although you can turn off your location trackers, I advise you not to, just in case." You smile at him, hoping he'd understand what you were trying to say.

"I got it. Thanks for explaining it to me." Iso nods, taking off his left earbud and replacing it with the earpiece.

You took note of his actions, observing him closely.

"By the way, if I did ask for backup later on..." Iso paused.

"Yeah?" You tilt your head with a smile.

"Since you said that everyone else is busy, will you come?" Iso asks.

IS HE IMPLYING SOMETHING????????? AM I JUST DELUSIONAL OR WHAT, you thought.

"W-Well, yeah. I'm still responsible for you and your safety, according to Brimstone." You nod, pushing the thoughts to the back of your head.

"I'm glad." Iso nods, smiling.

WHAT DOES THAT MEANNNNNNNNNNNN???, you thought.

"Can I only talk to you about anything related to the mission?" Iso asks.

"Not necessarily, as long as you're not in the middle of a gunfight." You shook you head.

"Great. Uh, one last thing." Iso rubs the back of his head.

"After my mission, do you think we can go out for hotpot? My treat." Iso smiles, looking at you.

WHATWHATWHAT OHMYGOD IS THIS REAL FUCKFUCKFUCK, your thoughts raced.

You had to take a moment to process what Iso just asked you. Was this some kind of prank? Maybe Phoenix told him to prank you? Was this just a friendly gesture-

"You okay? You don't have to say yes, or we can get different food. Anything you like will do." Iso smiles.

"I- No! Hotpot is fine... A-Anyway, yeah, we can go out after your mission as long as you come back unscathed." You nod, your face turning visibly red.

"Then, I'm looking forward to it." Iso smiles.

"A-Anyway... The jet should be ready to transport you to the mission site. You can head to the departure wing now." You look back to the screen.

"I'm going, then. Thanks for your help." Iso nods.

You look back at Iso and smiled.

"Good luck on your mission, Iso." You nod as Iso walked out of the room.

You turn back and sat on the chair, all while letting out a shaky sigh. Was it just a friendly gesture or something more?

Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by Iso's voice in your earpiece.

"Hey, can you hear me?" Iso asked through the comms.

You snap back to reality and let out a small huff.

"Yeah, loud and clear." You nod to yourself.

"Right, thanks. I'm in the jet right now, heading to the location." Iso says.

"I got it. I'm writing the report for Brimstone right now." You reply, typing out a document.

After a moment of silence, Iso speaks up.

"Hey, when you first arrived in the VP, how was it?" Iso asks.

"Huh? Well... It wasn't really easy." You say, recalling back to your newbie days in the VP.

"I was kind of an outcast and everyone thought I was creepy and stuff." You shrug, still typing.

"Why's that?" Iso asked.

"Well, just like Omen and Fade, I have abilities related to shadows or darkness." You paused.

"I was really quiet and stuff, so some were afraid to even look my way, because I can just merge myself with their shadow without them knowing." You shrug.

"But hey, I managed. Omen became my very first friend. He understood me." You smile.

"Wow... Omen? That's kind of him." You hear Iso hum.

"How about your first mission? How did it go?" Iso asked.

"Back then, I had little to no control of my abilities. I was merging myself to shadows back and forth because I didn't know how to control it." You laugh.

"But I learned how to control it, thanks to Omen. He knew exactly how I felt and why, and he taught my how to control it, even if he can't control his own." You sigh.

"My first mission went really well because Brimstone paired me up with Omen. He was really helpful, teaching me how to defuse the spike." You explain.

"Anyway... How about you? How are you feeling? This is your first mission, after all." You ask.

"I was kind of hesitant when Brimstone first told me." Iso says.

"But when I found out that you're gonna work closely with me, I feel much better." You could almost hear Iso smiling. Wait, was that even possible?

You could feel your heart beating faster and your face turning red. Surely, he didn't mean it that way. Maybe it was just a friend thing?

"I think I can handle this mission." Iso continues.

You quickly shook off the lingering feeling.

"I'm sure you'll do great." You nod.

"By the way, what kind of milk tea do you like? Sorry, that was a random question." Iso chuckles.

"Me? Well, I like heavy oolong milk tea with tapioca pearls." You paused for a moment.

"Jett and Phoenix often made fun of me for being so basic, but I think it's really good." You smile.

"What about you? What do you like?" You ask.

"I actually like the same thing. I get it all the time." Iso replied.

"Whoa, really?" You smile.

"We have a lot of things in common, hey?" Iso says.

"That makes me really happy." Iso added.

It was starting to get hard trying not to think of this as a gesture of interest and not just for friends.

"Oh, we're landing now." Iso says.

"Be careful, Iso. You'll just need to eliminate the Omega Earth Radiants and defuse the spike if planted." You nod.

"You'll come if I ever need help, right?" Iso asked again.

"Yes, I will. Don't worry." You assure him.

"Okay, I'm heading out now." Iso says.

For the past hour, you've been helping Iso locate the enemies and giving him instructions. You watched his location attentively while writing a report, all while talking to Iso.

"Iso, there's one enemy left. Do you think you can defuse the spike until half?" You ask.

"Yeah, I think so. I'll try." Iso replies.

On the other end, you can hear Iso running to the spike. You heard beeping, which means that he was defusing now.

"Don't let your guard down. Don't rush, there's still plenty of time left." You remind him.

"Almost half, come on..." You hear Iso mutter.

A few seconds later you could hear a Vandal being fired, then Iso grunting.

"Iso?!" You stood up from your seat.

"Spike is half... I got shot on the shoulder..." Iso groans.

In the background, you can hear Iso firing his Sheriff, presumably at the assailant.

"Okay, okay... He's down, I can still defuse with my other hand..." Iso coughs, followed by the beeping sound again.

"Iso, listen to me. Just hold on and keep defusing, okay? I'm coming." You connect the comms to your phone, running out of the room.

"Really? You're coming...?" Iso asks, his voice low and pained.

"Yes, I'm on my way. Just a little longer, okay?" You ran to the departure wing, getting on the jet.

"I'll wait for you." Iso grunts.

"Keep talk to me, Iso. I need you to stay awake." You frantically went through the jet's storage for some medical equipment.

"Put some pressure on the wound to prevent excess bleeding. I'm on my way." You say, your voice shaky.

"Will we still go out for hotpot after this?" Iso asks, his voice low.

"Yes, I promise we will when you get better." You promised.

The jet hovered over the mission location. You shout for the pilot to open the door, as it'd take longer if you waited for the jet to land.

The door opens for you and you look out from it. Your eyes scanned the mission area from above, looking for any kind of shadow you can merge with. Once you do, you stepped back to prepare yourself to jump.

"I see a jet in the sky, is that you?" Iso asked, coughing.

"Yeah, it's me. I'll be with you soon." You breathe out shakily.

"What are you planning to do?" Iso asked.

But before you can answer, you dashed out of the jet. Your eyes locked onto the shadow of the building, preparing to channel your ability. You closed your eyes, letting your shadow take over.

In seconds, your body turned into a shadow-like orb, heading for the shadow of the building. Your body reached it immediately, merging with it. Once you did, you jumped away from it and ran to Iso.

"Iso! Hey, I'm here." You pant heavily, kneeling beside Iso.

"Hey..." Iso grunts, sitting up slowly. Beside Iso was the defused spike.

"Don't move, stay still. I'll do my best to help you, okay?" You mumble shakily.

How will you even do this? You weren't a healer, you weren't even trained for this. You look at Iso's pain expression and you knew you had to do something, anything.

You could make use of your abilities, the shadows. You remember what Omen told you, about how if you channel enough energy to your shadow, you could make it do what you desired. If you could do it, you could use them to absorb the wound, the pain and the bullet and save Iso.

Could that even work? Were you crazy? But you knew you had to try.

"Iso, listen to me." You hold his bloody hand shakily.

"This'll hurt a bit, okay? Do you trust me?" You squeeze his hand gently.

"I trust you." Iso nods.

"Stay with me." You mumble, letting go of his hand.

You place your hand over his wound and your other hand on your shadow. You close your eyes, channeling your shadow to your hand. You press your hand firmly on Iso's shoulder, your shadow entering his open wound, earning a pained hiss from Iso.

You focused your mind into commanding your shadow to absorb whatever it would have to absorb in order to heal Iso. You didn't know what you were doing, you were going crazy.

You let a few minutes pass, with your palm pressed on Iso's wound. You didn't know if what you did worked, but you were growing lightheaded.

pleaseworkpleaseworkpleaseworkpleasework, you chanted in your mind.

Once you feel your shadow disappear from your hand, you opened your eyes, slowly removing your hand from Iso's wound.

It was gone.

The would was no longer there, just the skin of Iso's shoulder through the hole of his hoodie. All that was left was Iso's blood.

"It... It worked..." You let out a shaky sigh, still not believing in what you did.

"What?" You hear Iso ask as he looks at his now-gone wound.

"It's gone? How did you..." Iso looked back at you.

"I don't know, I..." You mumble, looking at your shaking hands.

"No, I... It doesn't matter right now. Let's go back to HQ." You shook your head, shakily standing up.

"Can you stand? Do you need me to support you?" You offer your hand for him to take.

"I think I can." Iso nods, using his other hand to take your hand as you pulled him up.

"How did you do that? You never told me you could do that." Iso asked, looking at you in awe.

"I didn't even know that I could do that." You shook your head.

"Let's go back to the extraction point. I'll definitely need to write a detailed report about this..." You mumble, walking with Iso.

You and Iso walked for a few minutes, before finally arriving to the extraction point. You both got on the jet as it took off.

You plop down on the seat, still feeling a little lightheaded.

"Are you okay?" Iso asked, sitting beside you.

"I should be asking you that. How are you feeling? No more pain?" You sigh.

"I feel fine. It doesn't hurt anymore." Iso shook his head.

"Hey, thank you." Iso says.

It was enough to catch your attention, so you look at him.

"You came to save me, and I'm really thankful for that." Iso smiles.

"We can't have you dying on your first mission, Iso." You smile.

"But you hurried here, you tried your best to use your ability and ended up learning that you can actually heal me." Iso shook his head.

"Can I be honest with you?" You ask.

"I came to you despite knowing that I couldn't help at all." You admit.

"I had no medical experience and I wasn't anywhere near Sage's level." You sigh.

"But I still came to you. It was... an urge." You mumble.

"But now, I'm glad I came, after all. I learned a lot." You smile.

"I'm glad you came." Iso smiles.

After that, Iso was sent to the medic wing, where Sage checked Iso's health.

Brimstone informed you of this, so you went to check up on him for your hotpot with him later.

As you were about to slide the door open and walk in, you heard Iso talking with Sage.

"I'm glad you're okay, Iso." Sage says.

"Thanks a lot, Sage." Iso replied.

"Hey, do you think we can go out for milk tea later today?............" That was all you heard before your ears blocked out every other noise.

And here you thought that you were making progress. You really thought that Iso liked you back? Of course it was Sage.

You thought back to his interactions, how he'd look at her, how he'd call her his senior. But you were dumb and ignored all of it.

Now, here you were.

You had hoped for something when he talked to you earlier today, when he asked to go out for hotpot with you and only you.

Maybe it really was just a friendly gesture.

#iso valorant #iso x reader #valorant x reader #valorant iso #worksbynightowl

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eldragon-x · 1 year

Text

Okay let's talk about how actually Bill is attached to Ford and genuinely sees him as a friend and maybe even likes him more than literally anyone else which was originally going to mainly revolve around Weirdmageddon, however I absolutely needed to add creator commentary and extra-canon in order to dig into Bill's mentality.

First, I'd like to point out this comment by Hirsch from the Sock Opera DVD commentary about how Bill views Mabel:

“Bill genuinely believes that Mabel’s kinda like him. He sees Mabel as a chaos agent. Like, Mabel has got a little bit of a seed of anarchy in her, she’s a little bit selfish, she likes to have fun at whatever cost. And Bill is all those things times a billion. So he thinks when he lays it all out for her like: ‘How about instead of being lame, you do something fun! And crush whoever you want in the process!’. He thinks that’s gonna go over. And he’s not wrong in seeing that side in Mabel but Mabel is a better person than Bill Cipher.”

as well as this bit from "Dipper's and Mabel's Guide to Mystery and Nonstop Fun" written by Bill:

Both which pretty much confirm that Bill likes Mabel and assumes they're alike based on a couple similarities, which adds up when you look at how he treats and interacts with Mabel in the show but let's not derail.

The point I'm trying to make here is that if Bill can get attached and relate to a twelve year old he's known for half a summer, it's pretty easy to imagine he probably feels similarly about a guy he's known for thirty years and is the character who by far has the strongest connection to Bill.

Of course for Bill to relate to Ford there has to be some similarity in the first place. And there are! You could compare Ford's willingness to build an interdimensional portal to gain knowledge and admiration to Bill's desire to reach beyond his own two-dimensional world and eventual attain of knowledge and power.

Of course, Ford isn't the first person to attempt to build a portal for Bill. But the similarities run deeper than that.

So you know how Ford's been ostracized for all his life and leaned into trying to be outstanding and special which was encouraged and made worse by Bill?

Because Bill namedrops the author of Flatland in the Bill Cipher AMA when asked about his birth dimension.

and on top of that, in Journal 3 Ford describes a dimension called Exwhylia which references Flatland and suggests Bill could have come from a similar dimension.

To keep it short for those unfamiliar, Flatland is a book about a place of that same name and describes it as a plane where three-dimensionality is incomprehensible, only the heads of society are allowed to know about other dimensions, the social system depends on a strict hierarchy, everything that risks deviating from the norm is shut down, may be worth mentioning here that triangles are near the bottom of the hierarchy too.

Yeah I don't think I need to really explain that Bill would absolutely hate it here and it's really jarring how much this place clashes with him.

Anyway do you see where I'm going with this? Bill probably being shunned by his world and Ford's whole deal?

About the leaning into being special thing, Flatland people are really just. people but shapes. So to me it implies Bill didn't always have his powers (on top of him literally saying "I wasn't always this way" in Weird 3 while talking about his newly gained powers and before talking about his old dimension). Can you imagine how much gaining those brought out the worst in him? I think he was already self-centered before but now he has more reason to see himself above others.

Now obviously, Bill just claimed Ford was special and called him his friend as a manipulation tactic, but it's significant to remember that we're talking about the guy who said this:

and is pretty much confirmed to apply this mindset to himself:

I think that while yes, Ford and Bill's friendship started out as nothing but manipulation on Bill's part, he really grew attached to the guy based on what they had in common.

Unfortunately, Bill does the same mistake with Ford as he does with Mabel and assumed he's more like him than he really is. I mean,

Bill wrote this into the Journal during Ford's paranoid era. And I don't think he's just rambling because he says "don't you understand" and "I ask you" which very much sounds like he's trying to be convincing.

Anyway, yeah I think this scene from Weirdmageddon 1 was really another genuine offer, rather than just plain and simply Bill mocking Ford.

Also Weirdmageddon 2 pretty much proves to me that Bill does see Ford as special. Just look at how he's always carrying golden Ford around in contrast to all the stone-turned townsfolk being built into his throne. Literally special treatment! In a bad messed up way.

Also a big fan of this episode showing that Bill does not care about the well-being of his so-called friends (which is even more outright in the uncut storyboard version of this scene)

really cementing the fact that not only does Bill see himself above mortals, but above everyone and really the only apparent reason they are friends is because they support Bill and he thinks they're fun.

So yeah it is absolutely possible for Bill to regard Ford on a similar level as them, maybe even above them. Finally, let's talk about the penthouse scene because I have a lot of feelings about that one.

After attempting to charm Ford, Bill's first move in trying to negotiate is talking about his old dimension and how restricting and narrow-minded it was. Already brought this scene up earlier but honestly the fact that he just drops that on Ford is wild to me.

Like, this is the same guy who, according to the Axolotl, yearns for his old dimension but denies to himself that he deeply regrets destroying it. Bill hates showing vulnerability. He hates even acknowledging it. He only cares for vulnerability if it comes from other people for him to exploit!

So him telling Ford that his dimension was awful and he was genuinely miserable there is huge. Not just him telling Ford that, but also just the expression? The tone? This is the most sincere Bill has ever been throughout the show and possibly the most sincere he's been in decades, centuries, millennia, God knows. Even if it's still filtered through a lie he's been telling himself for most of his life.

And yeah obviously, Bill was desperate and needed Ford to help him at this point but I think it would've been "easier" for Bill to just. Maybe try and solve the barrier problem himself. Ford figured it out, so surely Bill can at least try instead of, Idk, laying his heart out to the person who has dedicated his life to killing him.

I think Bill tried to make Ford relate to him in this scene for the sake of getting him to join but also maybe, just maybe, Bill craved connection? Dude's a lot more sentimental than he seems and lets on and spending an eternity only befriending people who you'll put below yourself after killing everyone you've ever known has got to get lonely.

Not that I think Bill truly saw ford as an equal, Absolutely Not, but I think Bill saw in Ford someone who could understand him. Someone who, at least for a short time, just simply enjoyed and appreciated his company as a friend. Maybe even a more naive version of Bill himself who hasn't yet realized what's good for him, which is really ironic because Ford is the one ended up stirring his life into a positive direction where he can be truly happy again, while Bill revels in his own misery.

Well. So much about this eleven second long scene I think about way too hard 👍

Bill then goes into his whole tangent about just trying to free the dimension of restrictions and making it into a fun and better world which is reflected in the Journal 3 messages from earlier and ends up on this:

Because this is what Bill believes to be Ford's ideal. He wants knowledge and admiration? Why here you go! Surely there's no reason Ford wouldn't agree to helping Bill now, right?? He's offering him everything he could ever want! He'd be part of his group! Everyone gets what they want!

And again, yeah Bill could've just made things up and immediately tossed Ford to the side as soon as he would've given him the equation to break the barrier, but that little scene where he talks to Ford about his old home dimension just. Really drives it home for me that he does in some way truly sees Ford as his friend. Y'know, on top of literally everything else I talked about here.

EDIT: Like the fool I am, I forgot to bring up a point about Bill keeping Ford alive during Weirdmageddon despite Ford posing a huge threat to him which is odd but uuh just read this, it pretty much covers it.

#oops its just another post about how the triangle has issues #gf #bill tag #ford tag #do i put this in the tags. sure why not #gravity falls #bill cipher

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endlessnightlock · 11 months

Text

The Weight of Attraction

aka The Thicc Katniss Story

An In-Panem Everlark a/u

Imagine a world where a canon Katniss Everdeen is not a tiny, underfed girl. Picture her as more...substantial. Big ol' butt. A rounded belly. Broad shoulders. Tatas for days. A girl who is much like the author of this story (lol). Transport yourselves to this world, and enjoy your stay.

"I'm sorry, that's all I've got today," Katniss apologized. "Caught some tracks today--- a lynx or something is hanging around my spot. Scared most the game away."

She didn't add that cold months weren't ideal for hunting. Sae already knew that; she'd spent enough years cooking her "winter special" entrail and tree bark stew to think otherwise. No matter what was in the pot, folks still had to eat. They were, for the most part, grateful to have it.

Still, the two women frowned at the scrawny hares laid out on the back counter. Realists, both of them, but even they hoped for a proverbial bone to be thrown their way occasionally. Sae sighed. It was a soft little noise that held no trace of censure. "Ah, tis alright. With the roots you brought yesterday, I can make it stretch in the pot. Boil the bones till there's nothing left of them. Still got salt. Salt goes a long way to making anything palatable."

Sae's stand was tucked in a back corner of the Hob. Due to location, it should have afforded some privacy for their trades and conversation. But privacy was difficult to find, and soon enough, a voice that made Katniss cringe piped up from the counter where folks came for a bowl of Sae's stew.

"What's the matter, not enough meat on their bones? Didn't leave enough in the woods for anyone else to eat?" the man asked.

Katniss had thought she and Sae were alone but of course. Shit. No such luck. Darius invariably showed up at the Hob when she did, like he was equipped with a sturdy girls radar. It wouldn't break her heart if that one bit of luck failed him. It was her turn to sigh.

Darius was, while not threatening, very much a shithead. Sae insisted he had a yen for Katniss, "pay him no mind. He teases ya like a little boy would in school. Too tongue-tied to make an intelligent remark. Looks like a sick sheep, that one."

If Darius hankered for Katniss's company, bringing up her plump figure wasn't getting him anywhere. Or just commenting on anything to do with her looks in general.

Not that she found Darius handsome. Blech.

"Keep that up, and you'll be getting nothing in your bowl today," Sae chided the redheaded Peacekeeper mildly. She stayed neutral regarding customer spats, at least in front of them.

"Nar, don't do that. I was only having some fun with her," Darius said.

On a practical level, because Katniss was nothing, if not that, she knew she was fortunate to have a little meat on her bones living in a place like Twelve, where food was difficult to come by.

Extra padding in the winter probably kept her from freezing out in the woods, but why anyone thought she wanted to hear their opinion about her body was beyond her. Just because there was a little more of her didn't mean she was open to any and all comments. It made her feel like she and her body were separate beings. There was Katniss, who lived inside her head, and then there was Katniss, who was stuck inside her legs, her ass, her chest.

"You're a fucking idiot. No wonder you're sitting alone in the barracks every weekend. I wouldn't talk to you either if I were a woman," another Peacekeeper, whose voice Katniss didn't recognize, chided Darius, piquing her interest.

"Ha! I get plenty far with them, thank you very much."

"Sure you do," the other man said condescendingly. "Lots of dates with Sally-five-fingers is more like it."

Katniss had to choke back her laughter; she wouldn't openly encourage whoever was digging at Darius because that wasn't her. That didn't mean she didn't enjoy hearing disparaging remarks slung his way, though. Having her thoughts echoed in solidarity was good for a mood boost.

After schooling her features into something neutral, Katniss glanced over her shoulder, immediately catching the eye of the unfamiliar Peacekeeper accompanying Darius.

Despite not knowing him, the new Peacekeeper shot her a boyish grin, and she wanted to laugh at his cheekiness. A charmer, that one.

Katniss suddenly knew with absolute certainty, call it intuition or the sight or what have you, the Peacekeeper had been looking her over. But not like Darius, who she was sure thought of her like a nice bit of pork at the butcher shop. Katniss was an anomaly in Twelve, where most women were near-skeletal in mid-winter from lack of nutrition. The new Peacekeeper gazed at her more as if she was impossible not to look at.

It was a silly impression to hold of a man she'd not been formally introduced to. But hold onto it, she did, because she found him more than worth looking at.

Katniss tore her glance from his smiling eyes but scolded herself for her cowardice. It was alright for her to return the favor of looking each other over. Even if scrutinizing the new Peacekeeper left her itchy inside her skin like pins were pricking at every nerve.

Darius might be tall, Katniss decided, but the new Peacekeeper was much taller. He practically dwarfed her, a near-impossible feat among most men she'd met.

The man effortlessly bestowed a feeling of not sticking out like a sore thumb on her. Because he wasn't just tall but very broad-shouldered, the sleeves of his white uniform straining over an obviously thick chest and arms.

A little jolt ran down Katniss's spine at the completely new and unexpected reaction to another person. She even wondered what he might look like underneath his clothes. She'd never contemplated what a man might look like naked.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, and she clenched them into fists, telling her hands to behave themselves. They couldn't reach out to a stranger.

The Peacekeeper was fair-skinned. His eyes were blue, and his hair was ash blond, like the merchant class who ran the shops in town. His skin was ruddy from the January air and perhaps some embarrassment at nearly getting caught staring at her ass. He didn't realize she knew exactly what he'd been up to. He thought he was in the clear, staring at her ass like he'd been. But no. Katniss was sure of it. He'd been staring at her ass.

"And who might you be?" Sae asked the handsome ass-looker, assessing him casually. She turned back to Katniss and raised her eyebrows in approval. Katniss pointedly ignored her. As if she couldn't see with her own eyes.

"Peeta Mellark," the Peacekeeper said, sliding onto one of the tall stools on the customer side of Sae's front counter.

"A Mellark. Now that you say it, you look a bit like the baker Mellarks. Surely you're related."

"In town? Yeah, I think so. My dad said we had some far-reaching relations here. I come from Seven," Peeta supplied, unconcerned by the questions Sae most certainly did not pump your everyday 'Keeper for at their first meeting.

Sae sucked air in through her teeth. "Heard they grew 'em big out in Seven. And they were right. And a Mellark to boot! How interesting. Katniss, don't you think that's interesting?" she added, dragging Katniss's attention away from the width of Peeta's shoulders where her eyes kept invariably drifting.

Katniss didn't mean to stare. She just couldn't look away from him.

Peeta Mellark met her eye. "Katniss?"

Katniss nodded her assent, hating the heat in her throat and face. Her voice would have trembled if she'd tried to speak or come out high and thin.

"That's an unusual name," Peeta said as if waiting for more of an answer from her. Like he had to know more about her.

"Our Katniss is a bit of an unusual person," Sae said when she sensed Katniss floundering under his attention. "Takes good care of her family."

"Family. Are you married? Do you have children?"

Sae's smile stretched wide enough to expose those gaps in the back of her mouth where teeth hadn't resided for years at his question. "Our Katniss has no husband or children, just one sister and mother. Tis a pity no one's offered for her yet."

"Sae," Katniss said.

"I have a hard time believing no one's offered for her," Peeta said.

Sae turned away to ladle stew into bowls and slide them in front of Peeta and Darius, the latter of whom might as well have disappeared with so little attention he was being paid.

"Maybe she's picky. Those who can care for themselves have room to be so. Perhaps she has no use for men."

"None so far, but I'm thinking that'll change. You got to admit, she's a good-looking girl, right?" Sae prodded.

"Stop," Katniss begged, pressing her back against the wall and crossing her arms over her stomach, wishing she could melt into the sooty walls. She'd developed this stance after puberty hit her right between the eyes---self-defensive and emerging whenever she was nervous or anxious. The goal was to disappear into her father's worn leather jacket, where she wasn't scrutinized as much.

But she'd left his coat on Sae's back counter. With the thin shirt, she'd thrown on in the wee hours of the morning and promptly forgotten about, crossing her arms over her stomach only accentuated her breasts, pushing them farther up and out until she realized too late there was cleavage peeking out the neckline of her shirt.

Darius made a strangled noise that had Katniss instantly furious. "Wow, you ought to wear that shirt more often. Really brings out...your eyes," he said, definitely not looking at her eyes.

Ass.

Well, that was enough time at the Hob for one day, Katniss decided suddenly. She wouldn't be trotted out like a prize breeding swine on the auction block and then poked fun at on top of it. "You're a twit," Katniss hissed at Darius. She turned away from the three, grabbing her coat and game bag. "Sae, we can settle up later," she said.

Katniss never settled up later, not when they all existed on the margins, but she was that anxious to go.

"Sure we can," Sae told her. Sounded amused, even.

KPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Katniss ran into Peeta a few days later at Sae's counter, where he sat working his way through a bowl of stew. Minus Darius, fortunately.

Katniss had thought about Peeta a lot, but she'd also spent a fair amount of time considering how she would make Darius pay for his comment about her breasts. Maybe ask Sae to slip a pinch of foxglove in his bowl next time he shows up. Giving Darius the shits would do plenty to soothe her mind.

Dismissing pleasant thoughts of revenge she most likely wouldn't act on, Katniss walked past Peeta to trade with Sae. This time he kept his eyes off her ass as she rounded the counter to the back table. She was a little disappointed. "That's a nice-looking bird," he remarked as she unloaded a pheasant from her bag.

Katniss cocked an eyebrow at him. Yes, Peeta was handsome as they come, but was he asking her to talk to him, a Peacekeeper, about her hunting, which the Capitol most certainly regarded as poaching?

"Don't worry," Peeta pushed his now-empty bowl across the counter and wiped his mouth. "I wouldn't shoot myself in the foot that way, so to speak. Enjoying the fruits of your labor too much. That's just. Really impressive."

She tipped her chin up, meeting his eye. Any pretense of flirting pushed back. "Alright then," she said. "Just see that you don't, Peeta Mellark."

He smiled when his name crossed her lips.

After collecting her bowl of the day's stew, Katniss took the stool beside him. They didn't speak much, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable.

KPKPKPKPKP

On a warmer afternoon a week or so later, Katniss was stepping through the scraggly brush leading up to the back entrance of the Hob when Peeta, after glancing around, stepped out one of the rear doors, shoving his face shield up before reaching her side.

His expression made her frown in confusion. "What's going on?" she asked, tugging on the strap of her bag protectively.

"You can't be here today," he murmurred, tugging on her arm, giving her no chance to broker an argument. He touched her lower back when she resisted and herded her toward the Seam road.

Katniss stared at him in disbelief as they moved, the thoughts inside her head clacking like a sack of coal instead of connecting into coherent thoughts.

"New Head' Keeper," Peeta explained. "This one is bad news. He doesn't let things go like Cray did." He stopped once they were effectively camouflaged behind an oak tree and dropped his hand from her side, stepping back to put a respectful distance between them.

She appreciated his manners but missed his touch immediately. She wouldn't mind a little handsiness from him. Then again, he wouldn't be the respectful man she knew. He'd never even glanced at her ass after the first time.

"Thank you, I guess. Now I owe you one," Katniss told him, hastily shrugging off her jacket and snugging her game bag against her side before sliding the coat back on while Peeta glanced around, making sure they were still alone.

She should be able to get home unnoticed with her bag hidden that way. But that was just the start of her problems.

She sighed. She'd have to think of another way to trade until the heat was off. If the heat ever would be off. She'd only known one Head' Keeper her whole life. She didn't imagine it was a position in the corps that opened up often.

Peeta quietly laughed at her disgruntled attitude. "No, nothing owed," he insisted when she scowled at him. "I just wouldn't want to see anything happen to you, that's all."

Katniss caught his eye before looking away and nodding. "Just the kindness of your heart, then," she said softly, heart fluttering in her throat.

"Something like that," he murmurred.

KPKPKPKPKPKPKP

"This way," Katniss hissed, tugging Peeta's hand to get him going as Peacekeepers raced past his inert form to escape the blaze gnawing its way across the rooftops. Hundreds were flooding out the gates away from the fire. The district was on fire.

Katniss couldn't leave Peeta behind even if she couldn't budge his big dumb ass, not after risking her life just to get to the barracks and warn him. At least her mother and Prim were going to the lake with Gale; she trusted her friend to get them safely in the woods.

Peeta had gone mute in horror and shock at the sight of the destruction, frozen to his spot like that thick layer of ice that sealed in the lake in deep winter, locked in place until spring thaw. Theoretically, Katniss thought, because he was a horse of a man and she couldn't do it herself, he could be forcibly moved, but it would require much more strength than even she had.

Twelve blazed, the hungry fire sweeping through the district, devouring every structure in the Seam and Town. The fire had started in the Hob, flames engulfing the coal-soaked warehouse like dry leaves in a burn barrel, and a stiff wind coming down from the mountainside kept the fire in perpetual motion, allowing it to consume everything in sight.

In desperation, because the heat of the flames was growing stronger at her back, Katniss stood on her toes and grasped Peeta's face, forcing him down to her. She kissed him; it was hard and insistent and inexperienced. His lips were soft, cold, and unresponsive.

Kissing him had probably been a stupid move, but it roused him from his stupor. When Katniss opened her eyes, Peeta stared at her, wide-eyed in stupefaction. He was breathing heavily. She was breathing heavily, too, her heart skipping a panicked rhythm for all sorts of reasons she had no time to separate into neat, labeled boxes. "Peeta, we have to go. You need to come with me. It's not safe here."

"Huh? Yeah. Yeah, okay," he said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Everything is just gone."

Katniss squeezed his hands and then gave them a light tug. "Don't be sorry. Just move. We don't have much time."

Part 1 of 2

What's this? Katniss and Peeta are thrust together by a joint need for survival? Whatever shall they do? ;)

#endlessnightlock writes #everlark fanfiction #katniss everdeen/peeta mellark #thg fanfic #in-panem a/u #thicc Katniss #Peacekeeper Peeta

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wolfsbanesparks · 1 year

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Bouncing in here like a madman again

Do you think Captain Marvel (seperate from Billy) considers the Wizard SHAZAM as their father as a sort of creator and creation relationship? Giving room for Billy and grandpa wizard relationship kinda?

I've had a lot of sugar today, so I'm not sure how that sounds, but I kept thinking about your fic, "Split", and how if things took a different turn and Captain Marvel revealed he existed because of the Wizard, would the JL come to the assumption that the wizard was his father/Billy's grandfather?

Or if things took an angstier turn, if Captain Marvel let slip accidentally that he didn't believe that the death of Billy's mother (and actual father) was a genuine accident/had suspicions about it, how would they react? Would they suspect the wizard bc of all the suspicions they're having? Also, I'm not sure if I remember, but did the JL get to have a conversation with the wizard?

Kinda factors into that one ask I sent before, where the gods killed the parents of the champions of magic to challenge and prepare them without them knowing, which might include the wizard, too. (Sorry, I re watched the Guardians of the Galaxy 2 recently and it's been doing numbers on my little mind)

In all seriousness you could write an AU for your fics and we'd eat it all up and ask for seconds because your writing creates a universe of wonder for us.

That was a lot, wow :0

Okay first of all you are so sweet! It's driving me crazy (in a good way) that I can discuss AUs of my fics!

I think that the Wizard already plays a sort of wise grandfather figure to Billy (in my preferred version of him) regardless of Captain Marvel's feelings towards the Wizard.

But I think it's totally logical for Captain Marvel to think of the Wizard as a creator figure, especially in his current incarnation since it was just Shazam who made him instead of a full Wizard's Council. There's respect between them, but Marvel also wants to make Shazam proud, wants to prove he's a good Champion. And I think that can translate to a father-son type dynamic even if it's a lot more complicated than that.

If we're talking Split in particular, the JL "met" the Wizard but Shazam didn't bother talking to any of them so their many confusions and suspicions didn't get brought up to him directly.

But if they had reason to believe Shazam was Marvel’s father, Flash in particular would have been having a freak out because the Wizard would have gone from possibly sketchy mentor to controlling and possibly abusive father/grandfather. He might have even had more people on his side if that was the case (especially if we add in the idea that the Batsons were killed as some kind of test of Billy’s pure heart).

There would still be those who insist that they shouldn't get in the middle of their complicated and potentially messy family situation. But there would also be those who wonder if Marvel had a choice in becoming a hero if his father was the one who imbued him with his powers because it was his "destiny". I can definitely picture Marvel bluescreening if someone asked him if he'd had a choice in being a hero (he didn't, and Billy didn't either) or if he'd ever wanted something else for himself (it had never occurred to him that he could be anything else because he was created to fight evil). His answer would definitely send up some red flags to whoever he's talking to.

There are so many cool ways having people think Shazam is Marvel’s father could play out and it would be so fun to explore that.

And since you mentioned it, while I don’t currently have plans to write an AU of my fics, I AM completely open to other people writing AUs of my fics if they are inspired enough to do it! So long as you credit me as the original author/check the Inspired By box when you post, I encourage you to go for it!

#ask me whatever you want y'all #shazam #billy batson #dc captain marvel #fanfic asks #this could have been a really cool extra layer to the mess that was the misunderstandings in that fic #the JL would have had a whole new set of rumors to sort through #and Zatanna would have completely freaked out at thinking there was some sort of strange family legacy thing going on with the Champion #this is so fun to think about

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thatspookyagent · 2 years

Text

Being a Pro Hero with wings and dating Hawks (GN!Reader) would include...

Warnings: Small mentions of blood and tiny bits of angst

a/n: This will be my second time writing for Hawks cause honestly this man is just SOOO much fun to write. Also I have more headcanon ideas that are based off of having wings (mainly ones that look similar to Hawks) so don’t be afraid to encourage me to write more about that specifically! Also I have yet AGAIN gotten carried away with headcanons so I not only did quite a few headcanons but ALSO wrote up a small drabble at the end of this. This is my very first time doing a little drabble within headcanons so let me know what y'all think about it and my characterization of Hawks. Without further ado, if you liked what you read, remember to reblog it! And while you're at it, check out my other works for anything else that might tickle your fancy! Enjoy!

If you want to be tagged in any of my content, don’t be afraid to tell me via my ask box or through messages! Just remember to be clear about what specific kinds of content, characters, and fandoms you want me to tag you in or if you want to be put on my general tag list! I’m always looking to add more people and I’d be more than happy to add you (if you wish)! :3

I feel like Hawks would react differently based on if your wings are similar to his or very much different

If your wings are similar to his I think he’d fine them pretty intriguing but also comfortable in a homely way due to the fact that they remind him of his own and he’s very proud of his own wings and what they can do and have accomplished

He likes to tug or brush his fingers lightly against the very tip of your wings as an affectionate gesture

Definitely loves to touch both of y’all’s wing tips together like y’all are fist bumping

But in all seriousness he absolutely shows the most physical affection through touching your wings or touching/brushing his against yours

If you’re the one to mainly initiate said wing caressing then he would love that form of affection even more than he did before

Some of his favorite positions to snuggle in are where your wings and his are touching or lying on top of one anothers

Loves the friction that the wings will make when they rub against each other

If your wings are quite soft, it’ll feel even better, and maybe even ticklish at times

His two favorite snuggling positions are when you lay on top of him, with your arms around his back and vice versa, meanwhile your wings and his also hug one another intimately

The other favorite position is whenever the two of you spoon, your wings act as little blankets to lay softly on top of whoever’s the little spoon

They actually work to create some level of warmth when it gets a bit chilly outside or inside

He likes to be a bit of a playful ass at times by rubbing his wings against fabrics and then touching them against your skin, causing one of those shocks that you get from touching a car door handle

One of your favorite bonding activities to do with Hawks is to help preen his feathers and then have him preen yours

I personally headcanon that Hawks does have to do SOME type of maintenance to his feathers especially after a particularly tough battle since the feathers can collect all kinds of dirt, sweat, and debris

And once they come back to Hawks after being sent out by him to do various tasks, they can feel a little awkward and grainy cause they’re dirty themselves

Not to mention they can get burned, burned, sticky, etc, so they’re not immune to the elements or being roughed up or out of alignment in general

So the two of you will have wing cleaning days were it’s literally just you and him sitting on top of a tarp that’s on the floor and just picking the grime out of each others feathers

It’s extremely therapeutic and calming especially with some music going in the background or y’all’s mutual comfort shows playing on the TV off to the side of you

A times you him and talk but y’all two get into so much that it’s one of the only times in your relationship with Keigo were he’s dead silent but not because something is wrong or bothering him

If you’re new to having someone else clean your wings for you, Hawks is arguably the best pro hero in that department and man to be handling your feathers

He’ll always be careful and cautious when cleaning your wings, and even more so if he finds any injured ones (blood feathers)

Knows just how to deal with blood feathers and will pluck them just right while also applying sufficient first aid to them, all the while making sure that his care causes minimal bleeding for your wings

Hawks will also teach you how to deal with blood feathers on your own as well but he won’t protest if you overall prefer that he take care of them when you find any

Whenever it’s your turn to preen his feathers, Hawks likes to hum softly while you do so, and even goes as far as to lay on his back and sometimes with his head in your lap

Will not be upset with you or hold a grudge against you if you accidentally injury him or have to do so because you’re trying to treat a particularly nasty injury on him

At the end of every cleaning he likes to spray some light perfume onto both your wings and his, like dog groomers do after they’ve just gotten done grooming a dog’s fur sksks

Another one of his favorite past times with you is when the both of you take turns stroking and petting each others wings while watching TV, listening to music, reading, etc

If you’re wings are vibrant colors, he’ll admire them even more and really enjoy seeing them while in broad daylight because he gets to see how the sun reflects and bounces off the myriad of colors on them

His first action whenever the both of you wake up in the morning is to kiss the shoulders of your wings and spread them out ever so slightly to admire them yet again

That’s basically his version of saying good morning which you’ve learned to do to him usually whenever you wake up first before him

Loves waking up with his face in your wings and for that to be the first thing that he sees every morning and last thing that he sees before going to sleep

Likes to “hold wings” with you whenever the two of you are out and about in public and will gladly also hold hands with you on top of that

Hawks also likes to do things that make not only your body react but your wings as well

Will absentmindedly play with them whenever he’s bored especially at home cause he’s not really used to having someone else whose wings he can mess with

Does things like stretching them out and then folding them back in again, which can actually be kinda of relaxing on the muscles especially if you’re sore from a recent fight with an adversary

Speaking of fighting, both you and Hawks gained the team duo name “Birds of a Feather” from the citizens that you and him have saved and y’all are hands down the hottest (literally and figuratively) Pro Hero duo to date

You’ve learned to synchronize both your speed and flying abilities with Keigo’s and both citizens and heroes alike get a kick out of watching the both of y’all fly around together

You ever seen videos of birds “becoming official” or mating by flying together in intricate dances, yeah that’s you and Hawks

Though overall Hawks would rather you not fight and stay safe off to the sidelines instead, despite that he knows that would be insulting your potential and your strength if he brought it up so he fights the hardest whenever you’re around to make sure that never happens

You can tell that he does it as well and it makes you push yourself even harder to protect him, though you both know that you’re not perfect, and stuff happens

If you do get hurt, he’ll fight to the death to get your somewhere safe, and to receive proper medical assistance

Will always shield you with his wings while you’re down, even if he doesn’t have a single feather left to fight or defend you with

If he gets hurt, you will come out wings swinging to ensure that man makes it out alive, even if you don’t

He hates the very thought of you doing something sacrificial stuff like that but he could never blame you because he operates and thinks the same exact way and would be a stone faced hypocrite to get onto your back about something like that

Now that we’ve talking a bit about flying, another favorite bonding activity of yours to do with Hawks is to just flying around the city, with him right next to you

Doesn’t have to be to any particular place, y’all just fly together, hands holding, and talking about whatever

Can be about other Pro Heroes, what’s being happening in the world lately, or about the silliest of things

As long as y’all have the city to look down on, the many lights brightening up both of your faces, as the two of you cruise through the skies calmly

In fact your very first date with him was just like that and you hold it very close to your heart which Keigo does as well

He enjoys doing little tricks and twirls with you and showing you new styles and positions of flight

If you show him a thing or two that he doesn’t know himself or isn’t able to do, he’ll be greatly impressed with your flying capabilities

He’s incredibly internally grateful to have someone around that’s so much like him in many ways but also different at the same time

Most folks would think that Hawks would be pretty arrogant about having someone around who’s like him and even view them as competition to take out of the picture

But in truth, he’s quite lonely...

He’s flown too many nights alone, taken care of his wings solo too many times, and had nobody to bond with in terms of being avian like until you came long

He yearned to not be the only one like himself which he knew that he wasn't, considering just how many people with quirks are out there on a global scale

But damn if he couldn’t help but feel like he truly was the only one like him, which in a world were quirks are in abundance, must mean that the loneliness was just that heavy enough to weigh on him like that

From time to time he expresses that feeling to you but only in passing or in minor ways

He tries his best not to show it with his actions and reactions and how excited he’ll get about doing anything that involves your wings

Hawks doesn’t expect you to take it too seriously, to really read into that much, and especially not to take it to heart

However when one day you bring it up before going to bed, that you do in fact think seriously about what he’s said, and that you’ve not only thought about it deeply in your spare time, but can even personally relate to it

This man is high key dumbfounded and for a rare moment, at a loss for words

There’s no quirky, laid back comment to make about that one, he instead genuinely and deeply processes what you’ve confessed to him in that very moment

Hawks moved one of his wings forward and then proceeded to arch it outwards slightly so that the very tip of his wing stuck out a bit. Selecting a feather near the end of the row, he softly pulled on it, plucking it from its place.

You watched intently, wondering just what your boyfriend had in mind, as he took a moment to examine the feather that he just pulled.

“Here. Have it. Little souvenir for the road.”

While the bird-like man extended his feather towards you, you could tell from the tone of his voice that he was more serious than he was letting on. Usually his voice had an aloofness to it. It was often detached and unconcerned. Mostly slow with words, dragging them out a bit at end of each of his sentences but this time it had sincerity, a bit of hardness, but also concern etched into it.

You huffed with laughter slightly as you took the wing from his hand. The back of the red winged Pro Heroes hand being soft, warm, and inviting as per usual. However just as quickly as you took the singular feather from Hawks, you placed it down onto the plush bed sheets that crinkled under the weight of your elbow propping you up.

You moved one of your own wings forward, braced yourself, and then winced from the sharp pain of you snatching a single feather from its secure and comfortable shaft. You wiped off a bead of blood that stuck to it and then held it out for Hawks to take.

“I outright refuse to be the only one in this relationship with a new key chain bauble, Keigo.”

You earned a couple of laughs from Takami, which you always aimed to do whenever you were in his presence. He carefully took the feather from your hand, making sure to caress it lightly before doing so. He placed it on his side of the bed, right next to his own that he just gave to you, and let out a brief sigh of relief.

“Just wanted to be able to know where you are at all times, yanno? Or at least have something to remind you of me whenever we’re apart. Not that you could ever forget a face as handsome as mine of course, but the thought is what counts right?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, this man. But you knew very well that under the facade of jokes and banter, there was an individual who yearned to not be alone and to have a long term and committed relationship. Someone who couldn’t bare the thought of losing you in any capacity.

He distanced, defended, and protected himself with humor due to his occupation, and you didn’t seek to change that about him, only to walk pathways that lessened that hurt inside of him.

“Wouldn’t have it any way Keigo. You know that.”

Hawks smiled softly while bringing you closer to his chest, the two feathers staying exactly where they were. Right in between the two people who were now bonded even more so through the very features that were at the core of their quirks, lives, and love.

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heartbreak-sandwich · 11 months

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Lex! I loved your boyfriend hcs, I'd love to hear your headcanons on the guys as fathers 👀

omg Joz yes!! This is such a cute idea, thank you 🥰 ✨ The ST boys as fathers ✨

💕STEVE HARRINGTON is a superdad. He loves friendly competition with his (many - five, to be exact) children to see who can throw something the farthest, who can get to the car the fastest, and who can finish their desert first. - Bedtime stories are crowded with all of them on the same bed, huddled around Steve as he does voices for all of the characters. - Food is always creative and messy, and Steve encourages curiosity in every way. "Don't play with your food" is not a rule to be found in the Harrington household. - The rowdy bunch attends each other sporting events, band concerts, and school plays in a pack which is forever recognizable because of course their outfits are color coordinated.

💕BILLY HARGROVE loves his little girl more than anything else in this world. He is very protective, letting her roam at a safe distance, and worries more than he lets on about her safety and emotional wellbeing, and whatever she wants, he teaches her how to earn. - His little angel is a superfan of his metal music, so of course he picks up an extra shift every other weekend to pay for her drumming lessons. Every time a friend comes to the house while she's practicing, they comment on the noise, and all Billy says is, "I know. She's gonna be a star someday," with the proudest smile on his face. - Every time something comes up while Billy is spending time with his daughter, he tells whoever he's talking to, "Hang on. I have to ask the boss," and turns to his daughter and whispers in her ear, her face becoming very serious before she gives a quiet answer back to him. - He teaches her how to fix her own things -- the car, the toilet, the legos she knocked over on accident. He never wants her to have to rely on anyone else to solve her problems, and he teaches her to be self sufficient along with his support.

💕ARGYLE is full of childlike wonder at all times, so it's no surprise that he is the fun dad. He takes his twin boys on adventures every chance they get, and he encourages their creativity every step of the way. One of his boys is an avid painter while the other is a violinist. The walls inside their home are adorned with murals always being worked on inspired by ambient strings in the background. - Argyle's kids are homeschooled because their family prefers to hit the road for the sunny months of the year, and he figures they learn more from seeing the world than they ever could stuck inside a classroom. - He makes up stories on the fly to tell his kids, and he's always forgetting the characters names, but they don't seem to mind. The stories involve silly but useful life lessons that he wished someone would've told him when he was their age instead of having to figure them out on his own. They'll thank him someday. - The fashion sense in their family is absolutely wild. Argyle wants his kids to be able to express themselves freely with their style choices just like he does, and the result is a colorful array of garments always strewn about the home, lots of them covered in paint, and sometimes on purpose to add a little flavor.

💕JONATHAN BYERS is your average, working class father, but he is adamant about making time to spend with his family. His two daughters starting high school has been the biggest challenge for him so far, but he never misses a dance recital or a soccer game, and he's always home in time to have dinner with everyone so he can hear about their days. - The Byers family is big on gifts from the heart, so for every birthday, Jonathan makes his girls their own mixtapes complete with songs they already know and love combined with songs he thinks they should hear. It warms his heart when he hears the tracks blaring from their respective bedrooms while they get ready for school each morning. - Being an equal caretaker has always been important to him, so Jonathan took it upon himself to learn to braid. When his girls were little, he used to braid their hair before bed. Now, even though they can do it themselves, they still seek him out at least once a week or so for the perfect plait. - He is the chauffeur for his girls and all of their friends regularly. He'll take them to the mall, the arcade, to school, wherever is needed, and he never complains about it. He feels like it's a gift to be able to spend that time together while they can.

💕EDDIE MUNSON is a single dad whose son is an absolute carbon copy of him. The little guy is never sitting still, his long wild curls billowing behind him as he darts around the house with his plastic sword saving the day. Eddie is pretty sure his first words were "stick it to the man," and he smiles with pride when his son says some off the wall thing because the Munsons wear their weird like a crown. - Above everything, Eddie teaches his son to be kind. Be kind to people, be kind to animals, be kind to places, and be kind to things because the world needs more of it, and it all comes back to you. He teaches him how to put spiders outside instead of kill them and to invite the kid sitting alone on the playground to play pirates with him. Always be kind. - Corroded Coffin has a new stand in drummer while Gareth is away at school. Eddie's son is still fairly young, but he has great rhythm, and playing an instrument proves to be a great way to channel his energy. There is a new house rule that says sticks are for smacking drums only, and you can probably guess why. - Eddie plans small DnD oneshots for he and his son to play through together, and he loves it. The adventures, the battles, and the roleplaying are great for the imagination, and it's their favorite bonding time. Last year's Christmas present to his son was a custom set of abalone shell dice, and he treasures nothing more.

These were so fun to do!! Thank you for getting me thinking outside of my usual box :3 ❤️‍🔥 Requests are open!

#thank u for the ask!!#ask #sando answers #joz ily 💕#stranger things headcanons #billy hargrove #steve harrington #eddie munson #jonathan byers #argyle #stranger things dads #hc list #sando lists #requests are open!#fanfic requests #writing requests #lol now I'm realizing these just got longer as they went on oops #that always seems to happen with my hc lists

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ameliawarnerr · 1 year

Text

Criminal Haven

Read chapter 1 here

Chapter 2: Emotions? How About No

—The Leader—

Darkness' revelation brings fresh questions to the table. Some of which I could answer right now but I rather not think of them yet and draw conclusions– not without discussing them with Jake.

I glance at him, searching in his face if he's thinking the same. The expression he gives me as he looks down at me tells me that we are indeed thinking the same thing.

“Who is he?” Hannah breaks the silence, her tone has become that of a tired worker. She longer hides her wince as new information keeps surfacing. For her, it might be exhausting. For Jake and I, it is everything. The scheming, the truth and the lies, the masks and the uncoverings– we can never alter our minds out of this catacomb of games.

“He contributed to finding you.” He explains, vaguely. But I think he has not read much of my and darkness' messages. I think he realises that too as he sighs. He pulls someone's emptied chair– Richy’s, I think and places it facing both my and Kai’s chairs.

I add, “He was the most cooperative person, believe me.” I turn to Hannah. “If I were you, I’d thank him.” I curl my lips into a natural smile.

She stares at me, blankly, standing in the middle of the room. She looks as if she doesn't understand what I am implying. She's suffering from unimaginable things, I understand that. I feel that better than anyone else. Considering her condition, I won't ask much of her in whatever escape plan we might come up with. But that doesn't mean she’ll be excused from endeavouring as little as saying a thank you.

‘Say it.’ I mouth to her. My natural smile turned into a threatening one, unintentionally, but I can't deny that it has worked every time.

Her eyes dart to Jake who cannot see my face. I don't know if he encouraged her to do it or not but she whispers, “Thank you.” to the walls as I keep my glare pinned on her.

Go easy on her, I remind myself, mostly because Jake would prefer the same thing. I turn almost too quickly realising how much Jake is interfering in my smallest decisions.

Kai acknowledges her gratitude as he nods to the floor.

I make a mental note: he can be helpful but he's awkward accepting compliments or gratitude. That concludes why it was necessary for me to compliment me and for the same matter, Hannah to thank him. He already believes it my fault that he's here. I'm not afraid to accept that he is. But if he blames the part he played in Hannah's search, he might as well believe that he did it well.

Jake is looking at me strangely. I ignore directly looking at him exactly like I ignored Richy’s defeated figure dropped into a corner, his legs pulled to his chest and his head on his knees.

This isn't like solving a mystery through texting. This is real life and I cannot be vulnerable to one person while being persuasive to someone else on the different chat window.

I have to mention the mindset where my mind weighs more than my heart. That is the only way to get things done. We can be vulnerable when we are safe.

I inhale a deep breath, hardening my posture. “If we really want to get the hell out of here,” I speak loudly, ensuring my voice reaches Richy in the corner. I continue, “We’d need to stick together. Doesn't matter if you hate each other. Suck it up and bear it.”

I’m on my feet when I take a turn towards the door. Richy’s head turned in my direction. I realise, it's not only him. Everyone's looking at me.

“I don't really expect anything from you. Don't want to help? Don't. Just don't get in my way.” I announce, loud and clear. Though expecting the opposite of what words suggest. “Questions?”

Dead silence.

“Need a ten to think?” I provoke.

Kai is the first (and probably the only one who would) raise a question. He begins by quoting me, “Don't want to help? Don't.” I remain composed as he continues, “More like don't want to follow? Then, don't. But you know, whoever leads the way out of here, others will follow him or her.” I break into a smile, realising what he's bringing to others' attention. “You're just initiating to make sure that we follow you.”

I stride towards him as I quote him, “Initiating.” I stop by the chair I was sitting on and place my head on it. “That’s right. I am initiating. And if anyone else had the balls to do the same, they would have. But no one did. I guess that justifies why you should follow me.”

“Well, you couldn't have initiated it if he didn't uncuff you.” He gestures to Jake who is about to interfere. But that looks weak on my part. I appreciate it but I don't need it.

“That's a petty argument.” I cut in before Jake could. I shake my head at Jake as I pace towards Kai.

“Reasonable enough.” He refutes.

Stopping behind his chair, I break off a shim from the chair and use it to unlock his handcuffs. I intentionally pulled the shim from the part of the chair which was reachable in handcuffs.

Jake is by my side in a matter of seconds, probably because he doesn't trust Kai yet. But I do, to a certain extent which tells me he would not physically hurt me. He's just pissed.

“Now,” I talk loudly again. “Anyone up for breaking down that door?” I point at it with one finger.

—The Hacker—

From the moment she called reading Dan and Jessica's conversation illegally an exciting event, I knew she was trouble. And she only keeps proving it again and again. Sometimes, I admire it. Sometimes, it throws me to the edge.

Like right now. I understand what she was aiming for. There's no way out if we operate like five individuals without a common link who we all trust at some level. But she didn't hesitate once before uncuffing this guy none of us knows enough to trust.

Hannah, MC and I stand back as Richy and Pierce hammer their shoulders against the door. They continue thrice without pause but the door doesn't budge. They take a moment.

Kai glances back at me. “Why isn't he helping us again?”

This is why I prefer to work alone (and of course, this preference doesn't apply to MC). I don't like being questioned. “Is the door broad enough for the three of us?” I reason, very calmly.

They continue at it, knowing they are the two least trusted people in our group and raising nonsensical questions wouldn't change that. After six minutes, the door broke.

Neither of the guys step outside. Instead, they step aside, catching their breaths and stealing glances outside the door. MC is the first one to shift to the door. I grab her hand at the threshold. She glances at me as I step outside the door before her. “After me,” I tell her. She complies.

I glance in both directions. The corridor stretches so long in both directions– it seems endless. They are almost identical except there seems to be a little light coming from the right. Little by little, everyone's out in the corridor.

“Which way is it? We should go to the right. There's light coming from there so it isn't a dead end.” Hannah comments, her voice growing anxious.

“Should we break into two groups or something?” Kai suggests as no one addresses Hannah’s opinion because she's making a rookie mistake– being hasty and going with the obvious choice.

I think of Kai’s suggestion but I can't come up with a possible reasonable arrangement of two groups without separating me and MC.

“No.” I answer.

“So we choose one? On what basis?”

“We’ll come up with the basis if you stop asking questions.”

He glares at me, pissed. Then, he glances at MC and looks away. Everytime I say something to him, he looks at her as if reconsidering arguing with me for her sake. My eyes fly to her as well, wondering if she noticed it. But she's distracted and hasn't said anything after stepping out of the door.

She's shifted towards the left corridor. While everyone looks around, she looks down at the floor. I walk to her, she crouches down and picks something up. I bend to see a note in her hand at the same time she springs up. Her head collides with my chin.

She looks up, annoyed as I hide my smile. “What are you, glancing down at me? My guardian angel?” She takes a tiny step back.

“I’d prefer being called a partner.” I retort. “Although, I do feel bad for your guardian angel.”

She shoves a hand at my chest, walking past me but stops. I follow her gaze– everyone looks at us questionably, clearly not having as much fun as us. She clears her throat, the first time getting awkward.

“What does the note say?” Kai asks.

“What does the note say,” she echoes mockingly or …playfully?

I peer at the note as she read, “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood/ And sorry I could not travel both.”

“Robert Frost.” I say, immediately.

She nods a couple times. “The road not taken.”

“What’s that?” Hannah asks. I remember our conversations via emails and literature wasn't one of the topics ever. Come to think of it, we had nothing in common.

“A poem.” MC and I say I'm unison.

Kai jumps in. “Didn’t he take the less travelled path?”

Both of us nod. Richy adds something for the first time. “Well, how did he decide which one was the least travelled?” He looks at no one in particular.

“The less travelled one was more grassy.” MC answers.

“So in our case, the less travelled one would be the left one, right? Because it's dark and could be a dead end or something.” Kai remarks.

“So can be the right one.” Hannah weighs in.

“At least it has the probability of having a window.”

I contemplate the poem, analysing from word to word. I remember each word clearly. “No,” I cut in. “We are taking the words at face value. The message of the poem wasn't to travel a less taken route. It was to make a decision carefully.”

MC looks at me, creasing her brows. “Then, we are at square one again.”

“No, we are not. Half of us thought about taking the less travelled path which means that is exactly what he wanted us to think.” I point out.

“Which means,” MC points at the way from where a tiny ray of light penetrates. “That's where we need to go.”

“Exactly.”

We start following the light. I can sense the others are not entirely sure of this but they will begin trusting us as we’ll give them hope by getting nearer to the way out.

A small smile emerges on MC's lips as we walk behind others. “You a literature guy?” She gives me a side look.

“You have no idea.” I tell her and then, I add, “We need to talk.”

She nods. “We do.” She whispers. “The only way that a lunatic could know about Kai is by having access to my messages. You had access to my messages. You're a hacker.” I smile, knowing we were thinking the same thing again.

“We are up against a hacker.”

“One who's pissed off. Can you think of anyone?”

I inhale. “I could think of a thousand. I've screwed many guys in the same field as me but none was as strong as to have all of us here.”

She considers it silently.

“We have another thing to discuss.”

She thinks for a moment as she arrives at no answer, she looks at me, “What thing?”

“Unlocking his handcuffs when you know a hundred ways it could turn out as a bad idea.” I don't beat around the bush.

“I needed to show him that I trust him to have him do the same. And I don't like being looked down upon.”

“I know you won't stop doing risky things just because I tell you not to. And I won't tell you that. Just promise to give me a heads up before you do something like that again. Deal?” I say, softly.

“Deal. But you have to promise not to talk me out of my stunts.”

“Deal.”

She offers her fist and I bump mine against it lightly.

______________________________________

*Not edited*

______________________________________

I wanna thank @lyon-amore and @itsnotzka for helping me figure Darkness' character. The reason this chapter took me as long as it did is because i was having trouble with Darkness' character because I forgot most of him.

Let me know what you think in the comments!

Thanks for reading!

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synthapostate · 6 months

Text

WIP List

I'm going to keep doing this until my head explodes.

Resist Psychic Death - Possessed Newt.

The Tropes Nobody Asked For - A bodyswap AU. This would be complete if I could come up with a concluding paragraph to wrap things up.

I could be writing sweaty nerd sex like a normal person but no - Maybe if I changed the title I could wrap my head around this?

Heating Pad - A cat adopts Hermann.

Miserable, Lonely and Depressed (Pathetic) - The return of Cool Uncle Newt. (He’s not cool, he’s possessed.)

Vampire AU - I mean obviously I had to write a vampire AU at some point. (Comedy.)

Some Days You Just Can’t Get Rid of a Bomb - Newt tries to solve capitalism. I don’t think this is even going anywhere, but I like the title too much to let it go.

Cold as Ice - Hurt/Comfort? Something. Contains no hurt/comfort and has nothing to do with cold or ice, but…it’s…something. A convergence of “whoever will take him” and (numbers) “will never betray me”. Hurt people hurt people, but survivors can be kind.

Newt’s Passion - A sex pollen fic. (No, it isn’t.) (Zom com.)

Other, Funnier Ghost Story - Vampires, full horror. Gore, angst, little bit of body horror. About 20k words so far.

Consent is Sexy - A team-building exercise leads to certain confessions that would not be made while sober.

Cold as Ice 2: Alaskan Boogaloo - Set in Vladivostok and it turned out to be about the Kaidonovskys.

The Worst Thing I Can Possibly Imagine - My genuine attempt to work through something, but then I thought of a punchline so now it’s a funny little shitpost.

Splash - A…feelings thing. The first tentative steps toward getting along.

Caffeine Blues - I swore I would never write a coffee shop au, but…One chapter to go? December is becoming a monster chapter that might have to split again.

Fields of Azure - Newt and Hermann are sent on an outdoorsy team-building retreat with some rangers (possibly by mistake) and both turn out to be full of surprises. Pure fluff.

Stop You Have Enough WIPs - Some silly fluff for these stressful times.

Shoes - Newt’s past catches up with him. Hermann is intrigued.

Groundhog Day - Hey man, these sci fi tropes exist for a reason.

Newt and Hermann Go On Six Dates - I write fluff now 😊💖

Hermann Gets Shot - It is so dangerous to start a fight in an elevator when one of the people you’re fighting has a gun.

Return to Sender - Newt leaves Hong Kong to work for Shao. Angst. Uhhhhh I used that title for something else. What’s another song about letters?

Find Me in the Drift - Some very disorganized ramblings that might be a sequel to Dinner With a Friend.

The Curse of Gottlieb Manor - In which I actually try to write horror on purpose, and give myself the most intense nightmares I’ve had in years. I’m toning it down for the actual story.

Painting the Kitchen - About finding a future after the apocalypse is averted.

Total Eclipse of the Heart - Jake Pentecost doesn’t trust Newt, decides to keep a close eye on him to guard Hermann’s back, and accidentally ends up with two new dads.

A Kidnapping - Um…it’s a kidnapping.

Wake Up, Dr. Jones! - More trauma. Possibly too much trauma actually. Scrap this?

Space Opera - When the first kaiju comes through the breach, Newt fires off a plea for help into deep space. There can’t be just one alien race out there, right? Maybe some of them will be on our side.

Cherry Bomb - Apropos of nothing, Newt decides to bite the bullet and seduce Hermann.

Third Act Breakup - I hate romcoms. Let’s do this thing.

Sweet Siren Song - Newt is doing his biology thing in the Atlantic, Hermann is an inexperienced sailor who shouldn’t be out alone on a day like this, they both get caught in a storm, turns out mermaids are real. (Romance.) (Accidental horror.)

What’s Your Angle - Turns out mermaids are real. (Horror.) (Accidental romance?)

Etiquette and Protocol - Loosely based on a dream, the boys are forced to take an etiquette class because anger management isn’t working. (Protip: if you encourage me to add something to my list, I probably will.)

Am I Blue - In which Newt learns how far Hermann is willing to go to save him.

Mr. Cellophane - Post-war, they go their separate ways, but when Newt is involved in an unlikely lab accident, obviously his first thought is to go to Hermann for help.

Hanahaki - I never thought I would write a hanahaki fic, not because I hate the premise but simply because I had never heard of it until this year and it seemed too specific to intrude on. But when do I ever pass up the opportunity to gorge myself at the angst buffet? Still angst but I have entirely dropped the hanahaki premise.

Time is On My Side - I reuse the tag “Hermann Gottlieb bends all of time and space to his will for the man he loves,” whether it's applicable or not.

Chuck Punches Hermann in the Face - He was aiming for Newt.

I’ve Got My Love to Keep Me Warm - In which Newt owns a space heater, and Hermann does not.

Marriage of Convenience - Lars Gottlieb has a scheme, Hermann will do anything to get out of it, Newt is an agent of chaos, fake dating ensues.

The Allegations - In which Hermann is not beating them.

Perspective - A very nice day. :) (Lie.)

Regency - In which I decide not to let all the meticulous research I've done go to waste. Apparently I'm writing a full regency romance novel, and it will be held to Harlequin's publication standards. (For historical accuracy. I already know I'm too gay for market.)

Alternate Universe - Hermann Gottlieb bends all of time and space to his will for the man he loves. Again.

Genie in a Bottle - I'm putting Hermann through too many shenanigans. It's only because he's my favorite.

Straight to Voicemail - An urban fantasy AU. Possibly horror. We'll see.

Spacewalk - In which the Shatterdome is a deep space colony ship, and I pay homage to my favorite sci fi author.

Search Party - Post-precursors recovery fic, in which Newt relearns that he is the good man Hermann says he is.

Hospital Whump (Take Two) - In which I will NOT get sidetracked by feels, and they WILL end up in the hospital, and there will be both hurt and comfort.

Hermann Holds a Baby - Too dark, might delete.

Blue Christmas - Because I love working on things that wouldn't make sense to post yet.

Dragonslayer - High fantasy AU. Obvious premise, but what the hell, dragons are cool.

#fic #i don't feel like working on anything today

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waffledforbreakfast · 6 days

Text

BLLK MATCHUP EXCHANGE for @archive-of-the-lost

Your BLLK matchup issss......

SHIDOU RYUSEI

SUMMARY

I knew immediately what vibe I wanted to go with, it was just a matter of finding who would fit it. Oh yes I warn, this may be a bit ooc, bc I based this more off my concept of shidou. +We don’t have much info about his backstory, so I do kinda have more room for headcannoning

MY TAKE This is more paragraph based, vs the bullet-pointy-ness of the mainsource breakdown

From vibes, I felt that you’d pair well with someone who has a strong character, but is also flexible to some change.

I think people underestimate the chillness/laidback-ness (can u tell i suck at english?) of Shidou, I really do think he is peak nonchalant dreadhead. He has a strong personality, one that would keep you entertained/invested, and he’s overall good company. He’s also very unfazed, which means that you don’t have to worry about him judging you at all, there are very few things he’d turn down.

Shidou was definitely the first to make a move (given the way he is), and you probably humored him enough to where he wouldn’t leave you alone.

“My fashion style tends to rotate between cutesy pastel clothes, alternative, and elegant/cool”

This was definitely enough to catch Shidou’s attention. He would shamelessly try to hit on you.

You probably made a joke out of it, accepting sarcastically. He could not tell it was sarcasm.

Now he’s gotten really good at telling when you’re joking. Laughing since he knows you’re being sarcastic while everyone else looks greatly concerned at the both of you.

If anything, he almost always adds on to your sarcasm with more sarcasm, mocking and taunting whoever else isn't picking up on it.

He’s a simple minded and strong willed person, but I do think that he’d be able to keep up with any sort of conversation you throw his way, from silly questions to philosophical ones. The type of person to give you shockingly good life advice at 4am yk? He seems to know exactly what he wants in life, and doesn’t even think about being offended at any questions.

MAIN SOURCE - BREAKDOWN

“People have told me that I look unapproachable?”

If you ever told shidou this, he’d probably say something like “Really? Huh, I never noticed.” in other words, he didn’t pick up on this when you first met lmao, so this wouldn’t stop him at all.

If anything, he loves using this against other ppl

“This is my s/o, Aurora :3”

“...”

“Yes they’re totally plotting to kill you.”

“My fashion style tends to rotate between cutesy pastel clothes, alternative, and elegant/cool”

If shidou saw any cool accessories or anything he think may fit any of your vibes, he’d pick it up for you instantly (and if it wasn’t smt you like, he’d wear it for himself no matter how silly he looked).

“I would like to try bolder makeup looks and lolita fashion in the future.”

Shidou would definitely encourage this, even pitching in whatever he knew about makeup to help you! Would take helllaaa pictures of you when you two go out. Changes his wallpaper like every 2 days because he has so many and you look amazing in all

“I daydream a lot and tend to space out when I’m not talking to someone”

Shidou would stare at you silently admiring every pixel of your being (while mentally taking screenshots), and will glare at anyone who interrupts this state of yours.

And he isn’t bothered at all if you ever space out when talking to him, he finds it pretty amusing

“Didn’t intupt you did I? Whacha thinkin bout?”

“I'm also good at reading people (to the point where my brother thinks I can read people's minds)”

There are two ways to see Shidou. Either a completely open book, or someone with so much depth it’s shocking that his exterior is so open. He’d be very intrigued that someone’s trying to look deeper into him, and will probably be more around you, and casually drop his deepest lore mid joke to lead you on.

He also uses this against other ppl. If he’s ever questioning the sincerity of a person, he’ll turn to you like “They’re fatherless, aren’t they-”

Will also introduce you to Charles like

“This is my s/o (or friend, depending on the time) they can read minds >:))” “REALLLYY? THAT’S SO COOL- WHAT AM I THINKING RN??” Then you’ll blow Charles’ mind and he’ll be like “WOAHHHH UR LIKE MAGICAL OR SUM-”

“Purple represents me best as a colour.”

If Shidou ever gets you anything, it’ll be in purple. If there’s anything purple, he’ll get it for you.

Also has a purple ‘friendship’ bracelet(which you may or may not even know about) bc it reminds him of you. It doesn’t go with his fits at all, so people point it out often, and he uses it as an excuse to rant about you.

“I value my authenticity, creativity and emotional intelligence”

I would say the same for sure goes for Shidou. He probably hates frauds and basics, people who follow societies’ path for the sole reason that they lack their own intelligence.

Although I do worry that his emotional intelligence is often overshadowed by his ignorance, but he knew he’d have to be more careful around you if he wanted to keep you around.

“I can’t say I’m really empathetic”

Shidou doesn’t need anyone empathetic, nor is he himself. So this is never a concern between you two

“I daydream a lot and used to be idealistic as a kid but now I'm more of a realist/pessimist”

I feel like Shidou’s actually pretty down to earth, so I don’t think he’d have a problem with realism. And I think his (realistic?)optimism would balance your pessimism well, he’d never let something like that get in the way of having fun~

“I find that I tend to think quite logically”

That’s no problem for Shidou, if anything he’d come to you before he does something stupid just to get your approval to make sure it’s somewhat reasonable. Comes to you whenever theres a problem he needs to get around, or when he’s pissed someone off and isn’t allowed to engage for advice. Basically goes to you for advice on everything. Including “What pizza should I get? Cheese or Pepperoni? Should I just get both? Im gonna get both.”

“When interacting with my feeler friends, I can feel a stark difference in the way we think, haha”

I’m going to assume your F vs T is pretty on the line then, or at least you have a good grasp on both sides. I would say the same goes for Shidou. He likes to rely on feeling to make his own reckless decisions, but definitely has a thinker in him (especially when judging others).

“I prefer one-on-one interactions.”

This 10000% is the same for Shidou. If you two are ever in a group setting, he will just drag you out with some half-assed excuse to talk to you. And even if you were in group settings, he’d have all his attention on you, and would only snap out of it if someone clapped in his face, or you spoke to him

“Sadistic”

Mans is not afraid.

“Kins I relate to the most (75% and above of their character): Itoshi Sae”

This also fits perfectly.

“My giving love language is acts of service and gift giving”

Shidou has probably received minimal affection to begin with, so really he’s happy with anything. But acts of service happen a lotttt, you make his life so much easier and better, and he loves you for it. He also has a dedicated shelf for all the little things you’ve given him, and he loves just looking through them thinking “They got this for me… they’re fcking amazing.”

“Dislikes: Exercising”

Too bad you are now running from security with him (its okay he’ll carry you if you get tired)

Wil definitely encourage you to go out more often, but also loves carrying you around(with permission)

“being forced to interact with people”

If there is ever someone you don’t want to be talking to, he will not hesitate to just drag you away the next moment, or just slur off the other person until they leave.

>“Type: Some intellectual that I can talk with. I wouldn't be able to stand a SO that often cuts me off when I'm trying to talk (especially when I would never do that to them), or someone that's only interested in talking about themselves.”

Again, I think Shidou would shockingly(??) be prettyy set in his morals and values, so throw any question his way and challenge him! And when it comes to you, his attention span sky rockets.

“I climbed a mountain and ran a small marathon when I was 10.”

“If you could do it when you were 10 you could do it now!” <- shidou as he’s trying to convince you to go run a marathon with him

“Many people have called me pretty. Also complimented my handwriting, they say it's so neat it looks like computer print.”

He would throw whatever complements he can think of your way. “You look beautiful. Stunning. An angel. Etherial. The apple of my eye. The protein to my shake. My vitamin D. My mitochondria to my powerhouse.”

Will also worry that you’d judge his crap-ass handwriting, and spent a few nights improving it…

“I seem to have good luck when gambling/playing card games. Ex: I usually get the deal breaker cards when playing monopoly deal.”

Was genuinely irritated the first time you played with him. Couldn’t BELIVEEEEE he was losing.

“Rematch!” x24

Eventually gives up on winning, and instead teams or bets on you when playing with other people.

Swears you’re like a magical fairy or sum

“When someone tells me to do something, I usually do it if I think there's nothing wrong with it. And then I find out they didn't actually expect me to do it.”

Shidou will probably test your limits on this :3 until you call him out on it at least-

“I admire activities that require certain movements like playing instruments and ballet that I can't do because my spacial awareness/motor skills are shit. Also I have no practise ethic. I can't do the same thing over and over again, I'll get bored.”

Will definitely try to show off his motor skills infront of you (the first time he tried he may have been too nervous and ALMOST screwed up, but he managed to do it!)

Shidou also gets board or repetitive things, so you two are always coming up with new things to do

“Phone charms entice me. I have changed my phone charm twice over the past year.” Shidou lovess trinkets. Keychains, photocards, etc. So he is super happy to get you a BUNCH of phone charms

"Look look! This one is literally perfect for halloween, oh and this one's purple! And this cat is soooo cute~!”

“I love cat plushies.”

So does he. And he will both give and take them from you <3

EXTRA INFO

"I’ve been to so many extreme parks that flying foxes are boring to me now." - Suo’s matchup

Perfect. You two get to skip the boring things. He WILL(somehow) find something you haven’t been on. Neither of you are interested in the basics. Oh and he’ll take you on the teacup ride, you’ll be expecting a slow boring ride, then he’s gonna put his entire body into spinning the wheel that moves the teacup to almost spin you out of the teacup.

"I can’t design things because I don’t know when to stop/where to place things to make them look pretty." - Also Suo's matchup

> Shidou probably lovess more clutter styles. And if anything, he is much much worse than you LMAO

FINAL NOTES

Overall I think there's defiantly potential between the two of you, if this was a real relationship then both of you will defiantly develop a lot through it, but I think it'd be good!

I had the vibe picked out before anything, so I picked the person closest to said vibe and went with that! bc again, we still don't know a lot about Shidou (and i personally haven't poked into the Shidou theories) so this is the best I came up with!

Hope this meets your expectations, can't wait to do the sibling matchup w/u >:DD

#🧇.crumbs

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