#he is surprisingly complex for a bunch of shapes

[prostocupoftea]

Guys i made it

i put him in blender

My dummass kinito shape design was too hard to draw so now he is menacingly A-posing in my .blend file

I will need to rig him and then i can make him do silly dances. Jk mostly posing

Also i think i'll draw eye on him by hand in each frame just so that he'd have that vibe of... idk, my sufferings maybe ? but i think that could look cool

Anyway, he is stupid, i love him, i hope you do too

[spilledkauffie]

Meet Cute

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x DogMom!Reader Word Count: 1.8k T/W: fluffyyyy A/N: I know it’s a trope, but I love it!

Can you imagine Bucky with a puppy?!?!

Managing six dogs at once wasn’t exactly easy, but you did it rather gracefully, at least most of the time. Today however, you fumbled with your keys at your apartment door when two dogs suddenly, and swiftly wrapped around you, pulling opposite directions. With a small shocked squeak at being squeezed, you accidentally dropped both your keys and a leash, one out of six wasn’t bad, but it was still a loose puppy, trotting around the apartment hall like he owned the place. 

“Peanut!” You yelled out of sheer concern as the baby dachshund gallivanted towards the stairs, as if it were his prison break at last, “Peanut, sweetie, come here!” You called again, eyebrows furrowing during your attempt to untwist the other leashed from around you, as he got closer and closer to that first step which was far too steep for him to comfortably and safely make wihtout tumbling down the rest. 

You watched in sheer panic as his short stout front legs took the leap of faith with ears flying freely in the air like he was Dumbo. You anticipated the little yelp that would absolutely break your heart— Thankfully there was a soft landing platform neither of you had prepared for. Underneath Peanut appeared two hands covered in black gloves. The small dog fit perfectly in the hands as he wagged his tail, beyond proud of the heart attack he nearly gave you. Sighing, you leaned into the door of your apartment for support. 

“Whoa there,” the saviour said, bringing the pup up with him as he stood, having had to dip to catch the pup on the stairs, after glancing at the shining silver bone shaped name tag he met the dog’s eye line, “Peanut, was it?”

As the stranger made his way up the last few steps, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. While you didn’t know him personally, you had seen him around the apartment complex before. Heart still pounding, you shook your head at the pup who was plenty happy in the hands of his rescuer. 

“Peanut Butter Brittle Biscuit,” you full named the dog, causing him to tuck his tail, still wagging it though. Setting your hand, which was still being tugged on by the other five other dogs, on your hip, “you know better than to just run into strangers, it's rude.”

“Well, Peanut,” he looked to the pup in all seriousness, “I’m Bucky. There, we aren’t strangers anymore,” he affirmed, shaking the dogs tiny little paw gently, “and so we’re not strangers,” he looked to you, “I’m Bucky, and you are?” You smiled at his flirty tone, “unless you’d like to go by 4C? Keep it professional?”

“Four- C?” You gave a puzzled look.

Bucky pointed above and behind your head, with the hand he was not literally cradling Peanut with. Quickly glancing you realized it was your apartment number. Now feeling a flush of embarrassment, you took a moment to face him again, squeezing your eyes closed. 

“Oh yeah,” you nervously laughed, before giving him your name as well, you liked the way he repeated it to himself, “and you’re 2E, right?”

“Do we know each other?” he asked, tilting his head with a smirk.

“Oh no, I just, sometimes I see Yori go down there, and- I’m not stalking you, I promise,” you frantically explained, waving your hand, wrapped in dog leashes. 

“No,” Bucky smiled, letting you know that was not what he was thinking, “I think I’d hear you if you were though,” he looked down and around at the literal pack of dogs sitting and standing around you. The pack ranged from a German Shepherd to a Golden Retriever to a Dachshund to a Pomeranian to a Corgi to, lastly, a dopey Great Dane.

“Most definitely,” you laughed, trying to calm your nerves, “we’re not the most graceful bunch, you had a display of that just a moment ago, which thank you so, so much.” You placed your hand over your chest, as an expression of relief. 

“No problem,” he said with a sincere nod and smile, petting back the dog’s ears, “looks like Peanut here is a real daredevil.”

“You have no idea,” you glanced at the puppy, “he’s a troublemaker and thinks he’s invincible.”

With that Peanut interjected giving the most babyish attempt at a deep roo, sassily from where Bucky held him still.

“Talker too, huh?” Bucky gave a shocked glance at the Dachshund who was still resting comfortably with his chest being cradled by Bucky's hand.

“Yeah, well we’re 40 minutes late to D I N N E R,” you spelled out the last word in a whisper, “Fridays are always long days,” you gestured around you to the bigger dogs with toys covered in drool, they just stared up at you, sighing you collected yourself, “they’re park days.” 

“Ohh, I see,” Bucky nodded, “I'd hate to keep you any longer then.” 

With a soft ‘okay’ and a smile, you held your hands out to take Peanut back. There was a brief moment in the exchange where your hands touched his and he gave a ‘sorry’ knowing it was probably cold against your skin. As Peanut hovered with both your hands on his chubby little sides. Your Dane tugged one way again, while the Retriever was determined to go the other, pulling you and Bucky closer together. Practically chest to chest, save Peanut being the barrier between the two of you.

“Oh my gosh,” you whispered, looking down immediately, even though there was hardly room between you two to do so, literally feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you closed your eyes, “this is not happening.”

“I’ve been in worse situations,” Bucky remarked cooly, keeping his gaze focused on you, finding it surprisingly cute at how flustered you were around him. It’d been a long time since he had felt someone had real genuine human emotions regarding him. 

Neither of you took your hands away from the other’s. Standing there you bit in your lip, calming your rising pulse as you were now close enough to smell his cologne. 

“I’m-” you started, finally looking up, “so sorry.” 

“It’s really okay,” Bucky chuckled, not wanting you to feel as worried as you were, but you just knit your brows together and gave another apologetic look, “honestly, I could- I could do this all day.” There was a pause, then you smiled, ducking your head to hide your face against Peanut who was really becoming a star matchmaker, “I think Peanut and I are going to be very good friends by the end of this.”

Lifting your head with a nod, you sighed, stroking the pup’s ear, for a moment before you guided the other dogs around to give you some more space. Bucky respectfully took a step back, somehow still holding Peanut after all that. You opened your apartment door and the dogs rushed in, you let each leash fall off your hand as they entered. You said their name with each one to keep track of them.

“And lastly,” you exhaled, reaching your arms out again for the troublemaker of whom Bucky surrendered, though he was getting fairly fond of him, “well, at least let me invite you in? Have a drink on me? Something?”

“That’d be great,” Bucky said, gesturing for you to lead the way. 

Once you were both in and Bucky shut the door behind him, you let Peanut loose and immediately he ran to his dinner bowl, waiting in anticipation. Offering Bucky to sit at the bar, you set two cold bottles on top of the counter, but before you joined him you got out six dog bowls, making him smile.

“How long have you had them?” Bucky asked, opening his bottle relaxedly with his hand.

“They vary, some for years, but the most recent,” you nodded to Peanut, “only a few months.”

“So uh, why so many?” Bucky inquired. 

You squeezed your shoulders up, looking around at all of them, “they needed a home,” you said, soft smile, “each of them came from a broken place, of hurt and pain. That’s all they knew before I took them in, and,” you shook your head smiling wider, looking over to Bucky, “if I could be a part of their healing, I knew I had to be. I can’t think of leaving something to suffer if there’s something that can be done to help.”

“That’s-” Bucky looked to the floor as you rounded the counter, to sit next to him on another bar stool, having just set all the bowls down, “that’s a really great mindset.” 

“What about you?” you took a sip, “any pets?”

He swallowed shaking his head, “no, I have a weird work schedule,” he squinted at his own reasoning, hoping it didn’t sound too dumb.

“Oh gotcha,” you nodded, before gesturing with the top of the bottle, “well Rodgers seems to like you.”

Your gesture drew Bucky to look down, sure enough set atop his thigh was your German Shepherd's head, looking up with big eyes and slowly wagging his tail. Bucky pet the dog’s ear, “Rodgers?”

“Yeah, you know after Captain America? He’s ex-military himself so I thought it was fitting,” you bent down to pet the dog yourself.

There was a quietness, Bucky looked away from the dogs and you for a moment. Biting the inside of his lip he felt something he hadn’t in a long time, though he tried to repress it. A part of him felt it was a sign, another part of him told himself to ignore it. Takin another swig, he made his choice

“Hey, if you ever. . . need help with them, I’m,” he hesitated, “I’m usually free Fridays, or- park days.”

“I’d love that,” you smiled leaning back up, “how bout I get your number so we can plan a da-,” you quickly changed your sentence, “a park day.”

While you got up to grab your phone, he flipped open his, seeing the very few contacts and the messages from only one person. Wincing he was a little nervous, this meant opening up. You returned, asking for his number, to which he willingly gave you. Finishing the drinks he said he really should head home, you completely understood, already surprised that he stuck around that long after the incident earlier. 

With casual goodbyes, you shut your door and he headed back downstairs. Taking his gloves off, he suddenly felt his phone vibrate. Sitting on his couch he took it out of his pocket. Seeing your name pop up with a “hi 4C here, texting you like I said I would” and a smiley face with a dog emoji made him smile to himself. 

He opened it-- it was time to start answering messages, it was time he found his healing.

[myherowritings]

Three in the Morning

— You’ve missed your best friend after not seeing him for over a week. To fix that problem, you show up at his window at three in the morning to fill the Iwaizumi-shaped void in your heart.

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x reader word count: 2.9k genre: college/university au, fluff warnings: intoxication (reader is tipsy hghfjsd), jealous reader at one point, cuddling in bed, tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: written for bnha sanctuary one prompt haikyuu collab! :D a bunch of writers wrote their take on the same prompt “it’s 3am why are you outside my window” and this is the fic i came up with based on it! check out the other amazing fics here u won’t regret it ;) xx sof

「 hq masterlist 」

Walking around in the middle of the night just the slightest bit tipsy wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done in your whole college career, but you could safely say it wasn’t the dumbest— Not that it was something you should be proud of.

You and your roommates had just gotten home from a party and, for some odd reason, you had the sudden urge to see one of your best friends, Iwaizumi Hajime, right at that very moment. He had been studying for midterms all week and you weren’t able to hang out with each other like you normally did, causing a Iwaizumi-shaped void that you wanted to fill. (In a strictly platonic way, of course.) 

And when you were half-sleep deprived, half-inebriated, it wasn’t uncommon for you to be rather...impulsive. From ordering too much takeout from any “open 24-hour” restaurant within a five mile radius, to uploading a video of you trying to come up with the perfect pasta recipe, you’ve done a handful of bizarre things during the ungodly hours of the night. But even you weren’t sure what was going on through your mind that convinced you sneaking out of your apartment and heading to Iwaizumi’s nearby was the best course of action while still slightly intoxicated. 

The clock on your phone read that it was only a quarter ‘til three and you quickly shrugged on a jacket and sent Iwaizumi a sloppy “i’m omw iwaaaachann” text before stepping foot outside your door, making sure to shut it silently as to not awaken your roommates who had just fallen asleep. 

As you made your way through your apartment complex, the thought briefly crossed your mind that Iwaizumi might be sleeping at the moment, especially since he had just finished his midterm exams, but you shrugged it off. You would cross that hurdle when you got there. 

And so, when you finally—through some miracle from above—arrived at Iwaizumi’s in one piece, you weren’t sure what else to do other then stare at his half cracked open window. Since he lived on the second floor, it wasn't uncommon for him to leave a window open for air to come through during the hot seasons. 

“Iwaizumi!” you yelled in a quiet whisper, hoping the wind would carry your words into his apartment for you. 

When you received no reply, you pulled our your phone and began to message him. Although Iwaizumi liked to pretend he was an unsentimental guy who didn’t have time to deal with others’ bullshit, it was obvious that was false. He cared a lot about everyone, especially his friends. Maybe even too much. And one of the ways he showed he secretly cared was always having his phone on full ringer in case anyone needed help in the middle of the night— Something that was surprisingly quite common when you were friends with the chaos that was Oikawa.

Would it be mean to use that knowledge to your own advantage and spam Iwaizumi until he replied? 

Maybe. 

But in your defense, you were practically having an emergency only he could help with. You desperately needed your Iwaizumi fix after not having seen him in over a week and there was no one better to help you that problem than Iwaizumi himself. 

Besides, texting him until he wakes up would be better than Romeo-and-Julieting this and climbing in through his window. Trying to scale a building while tipsy was too idiotic, even for you.

Y/N: are u awakeee?

Y/N: wakey wakey 

Y/N: i miss u :(

Y/N: i’m outside ur window wink wonk

Y/N: iwaaa >.>

There was a cacophonous sound of loud text chimes ringing one after the other followed by a deep grunt and stretching sound. You pictured Iwaizumi blearily getting out of bed and checking his phone that he kept across the room (to minimize at-night screen time, he claimed) with a heavy-lidded look on his face. 

After a few seconds of unidentifiable shuffles, you heard a strangled cry of, “What the—?!” before you saw the shadow of his head through the window screen. 

“Y/N?” he asked incredulously, voice still rough and scratchy from having just been awakened. 

You waved, beaming wildly. “Iwaizumi!” 

There was a deep sigh as he cracked the glass open even wider. “It’s three in the morning— Why are you outside my window?” He peered down at you almost stumbling on the spot. “And are you drunk?”

“Barely,” you assured, though you still felt a slight buzz in your fingertips. “I missed you so I came here.” 

“I— What? I mean— Huh?” he demanded, visible confusion in his tone. He rubbed his forehead before correcting himself. “I mean I miss you too. But it’s three in the morning! You couldn’t wait to miss me in a few hours instead?” 

You didn’t know whether to pout because he didn’t grow some Rapunzel hair and let you climb it up to the window and fall into his open arms like you’d imagined, or cheer because he said he missed you too. Blissfully, you chose the latter. “You miss me?” 

“Is that really all you heard?” said Iwaizumi with a snort before shaking his head in defeat. “Come up here. I’ll unlock the door for you.” 

Your face lit up instantly as you nodded, bounding up the stairs of his apartment building and meeting with him face-to-face at his doorstep. 

He had his arms folded over his chest as he waited for you at the entrance and, though he had tired circles under his eyes and still seemed half-asleep, was looking as attractive as ever. Not even the white polka dots on his pajama shorts could talk away from that fact. If anything, it made him all the more adorable. 

“Iwa-chan!” you greeted excitedly, but still careful as to make sure you weren’t loud enough to wake up his roommate. You opened your arms out and he begrudgingly accepted your embrace. (Well, he tried to seem begrudging at least. But you saw his hidden smile as you nestled your chin on his shoulder.) “I missed you.”

“You said that already, dumbass,” he said with a tsk. He patted the top of your head before pulling away from your hug promptly. “You’re cold. Have you been standing outside for long?” 

Pursing your lips, you looked up at him in confusion. “I don’t feel cold.” 

“Because you’re too drunk to register it, probably.” With his warm hand on the small of your back, Iwaizumi ushered you inside and shut the door behind you. “Let’s go to my room so we don’t wake up my roommate, yeah?”

“‘Kay.”

Having visited his place so many times before, you knew it like it was your own apartment— Disregard the fact that your apartments had almost the same exact layout since you lived in the same complex. After sliding off your shoes at the entrance, you led the way to his room with Iwaizumi following closely behind you. 

“Did you go to a party tonight?” he asked, eyes trailing down your body that was clad in an oversized t-shirt and fuzzy socks. Iwaizumi took a seat on his bed and patted the spot next to him for you to join. 

Laughing at his puzzled expression, you nodded. “Yeah, but I went to my place to change and get ready for bed,” you explained. “Tried sleeping but I missed you too much and wanted to see your face.”

You climbed onto the mattress with him and wiggled around until you found a comfy spot. The comfy spot happened to be side-by-side with Iwazumi, your back against the wall and cold thigh pressed against his warm one. You rested your head on his shoulder and he lazily drew circles onto your knee with the pad of his thumb. 

Intimacy like this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you— That’s just how things were. He was warm and comfy and good at cuddling, and you liked that. 

It could maybe be considered just normal friendship things you two did with everyone if it weren’t for the fact that Iwaizumi wasn’t typically comfortable with physical touch from anyone other than you. And maybe if you also ignored that you weren’t too keen on the thought of him one day being this close to anyone else. If truth be told, you didn’t like the thought of that at all. 

With a small huff, you hooked your left arm with Iwaizumi’s right, hugging his bicep to you in an almost clingy manner. 

“You good?” he asked, lightly chuckling as he looked down at you gripping onto his side. “Or something troubling you?”

You hummed unsure how to answer. There wasn’t enough alcohol in your system for you to completely spill your guts with know remorse, though being tipsy did greatly increase your likelihood of being loose-lipped. “I’m just thinking about someone else being with you like this.” 

Iwaizumi stiffened, shoulders tensing ever so slightly before he quickly relaxed his muscles again. He prompted gruffly, throat so tight it came out as a murmur, “And?” 

“I don’t like it.” 

He let out a sharp chuckle. “I see.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw a smile on his face and you continued on. “You’ve been studying a lot with Sasaki-san lately.”

“Hmm. Have I?” 

You nodded. “You have your biomechanics class with her, right?” 

“Yeah. I guess we studied for the exam together for a few nights.” 

There was a funny feeling in your stomach at the thought of him spending his nights studying with someone that then spiraled to you picturing them being compatible and falling in love and spending the rest of their lives together. You winced, trying to shake it off. You were one of his best friends; it’s not like you had the right to feel that way.

“She’s really pretty,” you said, hoping it would prompt him to talk more about her. Even if you had no right, you still wanted to know—

By now, the laughter Iwaizumi was struggling to hold in bubbled out of his mouth, cutting you off mid-thought. His shoulders bounced up and down and you reluctantly sat up from your position resting on top of him to give him a look of confusion.

“Why are you laughing at me?” you pouted. Your eyebrows were furrowed and the corners of your lips were quirked down, cheeks slightly puffed. 

He nudged your side gently with his elbow. You nudged him back, but moved away before he could retaliate and start a nudge war. “Because you sound jealous and it’s funny.”

“I didn’t say I was jealous.”

“I didn’t say you said that.” 

“I’m not jealous,” you corrected.

“Now that’s debatable.” 

Your cheeks flooded with heat, grabbing a pillow off the head of Iwaizumi’s bed to hide the embarrassed look on your face, seconds away from throwing it at him if he started to laugh any louder. You huffed. You were not jealous. There was no way. You just didn’t like imagining one of your best friends with another person doing coupley things that you only wanted him to do with you. But that definitely wasn’t jealousy. 

(Okay, fine. You were jealous. But you couldn’t admit that to Iwaizumi.)

“That’s just your lack of sleep talking,” you sulked, lying down on his bed with a pillow still over your face. “Go to sleep now.” 

“I was asleep. Until someone showed up at my window unannounced and woke me up.” 

“They sound annoying.” 

He barked out a laughter and you felt the weight on the bed shift. The compressed springs near your feet where Iwaizumi sat released its tension before you felt a dip beside you. You held your breath, the warmth from Iwaizumi’s body radiating onto yours.

While sleeping in the same bed together wasn’t as common as just cuddling, it wasn’t something that was exactly rare. There were times when you came over to watch movies or a television series with him until you both passed out on his bed. And other times when he was feeling stressed or you were feeling sad and neither of you wanted to sleep alone. You knew if you called, he would invite you in. And it was the same if he came to you. 

But that didn’t make your heart beat any less rapidly as you waited in anticipation for Iwaizumi to get under the sheets with you. No matter how many times you fell asleep together, that didn’t stop the rush of nerves and tense air of awkwardness from flooding the room. However, it took just one touch to break the ice and before you knew it, you were snuggling up next to him in complete contentment.

“They’re not annoying,” he said firmly, large hand resting on the curve of your hip. “Actually, I’m glad they showed up even though it was three in the morning and I was running on two hours of sleep from the previous day.” You winced at his words, the alcohol gone from your system by now and you realized the insensitivity of your actions. Still, your stomach fluttered when he said he was glad to see you. “Because I missed them too.” 

You blinked slowly. “You’re talking about me right?”

Through the moonlight from the window, you saw him roll his eyes with a grin. “Is there anyone else you think I’d let into my bed at this hour?” 

“Oikawa.” 

He considered it. “Well, maybe. But it wouldn’t so much be me letting him than him weaseling his way in.” 

You nodded solemnly, as if it made perfect sense. Because it did. “Fair enough. He’s the only other person I’d let into my bed like this too,” you admitted, earning a laugh out of the both of you. “Well, besides Oikawa then, there’s no one else you’d sleep with like this?”

“There hasn’t been since we started college. I doubt there would be anyone to change that. Nor would I want anyone to.” 

For the second time tonight, you felt heat rise to your cheeks and had the sudden urge to turn the other way and stare at the wall instead of Iwaizumi. But he held you tight by the waist so you couldn’t wiggle your way out of his grasp— Which did not, at all, help with the flaming face situation. 

He only wanted you? There was a euphoric feeling in your chest when you realized he felt that way, and you felt the same. 

“Someone’s bold tonight,” you managed to choke out, softly pressing your shaky fingers to the center of Iwaizumi’s chest. You felt the outlines of his toned pectorals beneath your palm and you had to remind yourself to keep on breathing.

“It’s from the lack of sleep. Sorry.” He didn’t sound apologetic. In fact, he seemed the opposite of apologetic when he brought you almost imperceptibly closer to him. If you weren’t so aware of the spatial distance (or lack thereof) between the two of you, there was no way you would have noticed. But you did. And you didn’t mind it. “I don’t have my usual filter.”

“Maybe I like you like this,” you said without missing a beat. Your initial reaction was to be embarrassed about the words that just left your mouth, but when you saw his growing smile, you felt a rush of assurance coursing through you. “I always like you, I suppose.”

“Like me?” he prompted, almost teasingly. “In what way?”

You gulped. Was this Iwaizumi being flirty? 

Sure, it wasn’t uncommon for him to compliment you and occasionally play around— But if you thought your heart would ever be ready for him to actually flirt, you certainly thought wrong. You weren’t ready at all.

“L-Lots of ways,” you stammered out. “But in particular, the ‘I think you’re cute and I maybe want to date you’ way.” 

“Funny.” His voice was a low whisper that rasped in your ear. “I think I like you in that way too.”

“You think?”

“I know.” 

“Huh. Well, if we both like each other in that way…maybe we should…” you trailed off, feelings of timidness suddenly overcoming you. “You know…” 

“Date?” he supplied with a knowing grin. You nodded bashfully. “Tomorrow.” There was an air of promise and sincerity in his tone. “Let’s get some sleep and then when we wake up we can go on our first date.” 

Tranquility spread through your veins as you let out a happy sigh, your muscles growing lax at your calmed state. Although your heart was beating out of your chest at the prospect of actually dating Iwaizumi, his comforting embrace was enough to lull you into sleep. Your senses were flooded with him—his touch, his smell, the quiet sound of his steady breathing—and you realized there was no other place you’d rather be. 

“Are you sure you won’t be too tired from exams?” you said before sleep overtook the both of you. “And from me waking you up in the middle of the night? Which…sorry for that again, by the way.”

“Don’t apologize. It was worth it,” he mumbled, lips brushing against your forehead as your eyelids fluttered shut. “I’ll always be here when you need me. Even if it’s at three in the morning.” 

[phant0m-l0rd]

(I should’ve learned my lesson the first few times this happened, never to edit big chunks of text on tumblr because sometimes it’ll refresh for no reason and I’ll lose everything right before pressing send. Anyway, off to rewriting this whole thing I go!!)

I felt like doing this because I watched a lot of kdramas this year. Everything will be after the “keep reading” line. Some prompts will be edited because I didn’t watch any dramas actually made in 2022, so if you see things being crossed out like this and [inserted text], that’s what that is.

(featuring a bunch of gifs I made over the course of this year and never posted anywhere)

→ First drama completed in 2022: Black (2017).

→ Favourite actress discovered in 2022: Kim Hye-soo. I absolutely loved her in Hyena (2020) and fell in love with both her acting and her (she's literally the perfect woman). She was fabulous in Signal (2016) as well. Her ability to nail both comedic and serious acting is a testament to her amazing range.

→ Favourite actor discovered in 2022: Honourable mention to Ji Chang-wook, whom I adored in the 3 series I watched him in this year.

However, my favourite actor I discovered this year has got to be Lee Joon-gi. Truly a master of his craft; I’m convinced there isn’t a single thing he cannot do. His acting range is amazing, from subtle and subdued to incredibly emotional.

→ Favourite original song from a drama [discovered in 2022]: Adrenaline (Vincenzo OST). I feel like this song fit the series so perfectly, but also sounds really good as a stand-alone song. I love its brooding, ominous, yet entrancing atmosphere.

→ A visually beautiful kdrama [discovered in 2022]: I’ll be mentioning this series a lot in this post, if only for the reason that it’s become one of my favourite series of all-time, from the second I watched it, the series being Flower of Evil (2020). The cinematography of this series is one of the many elements that makes it stand out from a lot of other dramas I’ve seen. It’s so beautiful, the lighting is always stunning, the colours are soft, the framing is always on-point…

Take this shot, for instance, which is from the opening scene of the drama (I just had to gif it). It instantly draws you in and sets the tone for the rest of the series.

→ A drama you dropped in 2022: Strong Girl Bong-soon (2017). I’m actually surprised I made it this far into this series before dropping it considering how uncomfortable the humour made me feel. From thinly veiled homophobia to crass humour to making light of domestic abuse, this series shocked me, especially considering it isn’t that old. So many series have had narratives of female empowerment and have done so so amazingly well that this series feels very subpar in comparison, in my opinion.

→ Favourite character [discovered in 2022]: Do Hyun-so in Flower of Evil (2020). He stood out to me the most because of how complex and multidimensional he was, and how well all the different facets of his character were portrayed by Lee Joon-gi. I felt so empathetic for his character, angry at the tragic circumstances that had shaped his life, and endeared by the kindness and softness he retained despite all he had been through. His character is tragic but is also an exemplification of resiliency in the face of adversity.

→ A [drama discovered in 2022] with an interesting story: W (2016) had a very interesting premise that was actually executed surprisingly well, in my opinion. In brief, it centres around a webcomic that has somehow come to life, with there being a portal between the real world and the world within the comic book. It’s very entertaining.

→ Oldest drama you watched in 2022: Time Between Dog and Wolf (2007) which I’m currently watching (only 1 episode left). I started it because of Lee Joon-gi and have honestly not been disappointed one bit. Sure, the filming and editing is dated, but that doesn’t detract from the quality of the narrative and the acting. Nowadays, this premise (a revenge undercover story) feels like it might’ve been done many times, however it does not feel boring in this series at all, quite the contrary. It’s been incredibly engaging.

Furthermore, I just have to say… I love 2000s fashion and hairstyles. I mean, look at this. Oh and how could I forget the single earring.

→ Have you rewatched a drama in 2022? Oh yes. I tend to rewatch series quite a bit once they’ve graduated to being comforting series for me. Not sure if I rewatched The Guest (2018) this year or if it was in very late 2021, but I know for sure that I rewatched Her Private Life (2019) (my comfort series at the moment), Vincenzo (2021), Flower of Evil (2020), Sell Your Haunted House (2021), and Suspicious Partner (2017).

→ A drama that kept you on the edge of your seat: Most action/thriller series I watched this year kept me at the edge of my seat, so I cannot list but one. The 3 that stressed me out the most were Signal (2016), Mouse (2021), and Voice 1 (2017).

→ A drama friendship that stole the show: There’s actually quite a few so narrowing it down to one is hard. I think the friendship between the 3 lead girls (Yoon Ji-ho, Woo Su-ji, and Yang Ho-rang) in Because This is My First Life (2017) was really great and heart-warming.

I must also mention the amazing friendship between the two leads (Hong Ji-a and Oh In-beom) in Sell Your Haunted House (2021).

→ A drama you found boring: Nice Guy / The Innocent Man (2012). I watched this series for Song Joong-ki and sadly found it quite boring past the halfway point, which is a shame because it was really great up until that point. I kept with it until the end for both Song Joong-ki and Moon Chae-won but I’ll admit I did fast-forward quite a few scenes near the end and just wanted it to be over.

→ A writer or director who caught your attention: I’ll admit, I didn’t really look up writers or directors this year, but I was really impressed by the writer of Black (2017), Choi Ran (who, it turns out, also wrote Mouse (2021), which I’m only now finding out). Her writing in Black impressed me because of the sheer amount of plot twists and details that were in the series and the fact that there were still very few plot holes.

→ Favourite drama poster of 2022: Flower of Evil (2020) has some of the most memorable posters, to me.

→ Standout secondary character [discovered in 2022]: Choi Yoo-jin in The K2 (2016). I don’t know if she can really be considered a secondary character given her prominence in the series, but nonetheless I absolutely adored her. The perfect antagonist, not one-dimensional at all, on the contrary. Song Yoon-ah’s acting was stunning.

I must also give an honourable mention to Mo Tae-Goo in Voice 1 (2017), whose portrayal by Kim Jae-wook was both haunting and captivating.

→ A drama that made you laugh: Quite a few dramas actually did manage to make me laugh this year, and one of these is Live Up to Your Name (2017). Kim Nam-gil is truly an amazing comedic actor (I loved him in Fiery Priest (2019), which I watched last year). I have yet to watch his more serious roles, but I will.

→ A drama that made you cry: I don’t know why but, despite watching quite a few depressing series, the one that has made me cry the most this year is Time Between Dog and Wolf (2007). I don’t know what it is but this series has made me sob, whereas I know more recent series with similar premises haven’t tugged at my heartstrings in this way. I don’t know if it’s the nostalgia factor but safe to say this drama is making me feel all the emotions.

→ A drama that was better than expected: Simply because I was apprehensive when I saw it was about sports (as a non-sports fan), I did not expect Hot Stove League (2019) to be the absolute masterpiece that it was. Goes to show, you truly cannot judge a book by its cover. This series may be centred around baseball, but it’s so much more than that. It truly amazed me with how realistic it was, with the characters feeling like very real people whom I greatly empathised with.

→ Shortest / longest dramas you completed in 2022: None of the series I watched were shorter than 16 episodes or longer than 20.

→ Favourite costumes of 2022: Simply because I loved Hong Ji-a’s fashion style in Sell Your Haunted House (2021) and would wear it myself, I’ll go with her wardrobe.

→ Sweetest romance of 2022: Toss-up between Healer (2014) and Suspicious Partner (2017). I guess the key to a good romance, for me, is for either Park Min-young or Ji Chang-wook to be involved haha.

→ Most disappointing drama of 2022: Strong Girl Bong-soon (2017), for all the reasons listed previously.

→ A [drama discovered in 2022] that deserves a shout-out: Hot Stove League (2019) simply because I’m afraid people might glance over it simply because, in appearance, it’s about sports, but it’s truly spectacular and I think more people should give it a shot. Another drama that I want to shout-out even though I know it’s already incredibly popular is Itaewon Class (2020), simply because it’s great and heart-warming (despite it getting depressing at times).

→ Something you want to see more in dramas: I’m enjoying seeing more and more lgbt representation in dramas and hope it’ll keep going in that direction because it’s just a nice thing.

→ A 2023 drama that you’re excited for: I don’t really look at future releases, I just find out about them after everyone else…

→ Was 2022 a good drama year for you: Yes- I believe I watched a total of 23 kdramas this year (not counting rewatches) and the vast majority of them were quite enjoyable. Other dramas I watched this year but haven’t mentioned in this post were Crash Landing On You (2019), Lawless Lawyer (2018), Descendants of the Sun (2016), 38 Task Force / Squad 38 (2016), and What’s Wrong With Secretary Kim (2018).

→ Favourite drama [discovered in 2022]: Flower of Evil (2020) (*pretends to be shocked*). Honestly though, this series was such a masterpiece that it’s second only to Stranger / Secret Forest (2017) when it comes to kdramas, in my mind. Everything that it set out to accomplish it did so well. It’s one of those rare series where I struggle to find any flaw in it. My mom, who also watched it (and has watched even more kdramas than me at this point), also said it might just be the best series she’d ever seen right after she finished watching it.

[princess-sethie-boo]

Grace and Country 2/5

Rating: M

Pairing: 'Hangman' Adam Page/F!OC, One-Sided Kenny Omega/F!OC

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Harrassment.

Co-Written with @lilmissriottbliss

Taglist - @moxleyunstable, @axelwolf8109

Summary: Ava and Adam go on that date, it goes about you'd expect with the Dark Order involved, Things with Kenny come to a head.

"Violet!"

"Ava? Mon Cher Smackdown is about to start why are you screaming?"

Violet gave Finn a look before putting her friend on speaker "Mon Roi is here too, what has you so excited?"

"ADAM ASKED ME OUT ON A DATE!" The younger woman yelled

Ava could hear Violet cursing in French from a small distance. “Really? That’s amazing! Give me details now!”

“I lost my phone and he found it near your adopted brother and then Kenny was annoying me again so he covered for me by saying we were going on a date so we’re actually going on one!”

“I’m so happy for you!”

“Could you do me a solid?” Ava asked

Of course darling," Violet agreed

"Could you guys not tell the big boss?" Ava begged "You know I love Seth to death, he's my dad shaped person but he wasn't happy about this whole AEW deal and he'll be even less happy to know I'm going out with one of their biggest stars"

Violet and Finn silently looked at each other before agreeing to the younger woman's request 

"We have you covered darlin" Finn said

"What are you going to do about Omega?I'm starting to worry. He's really not taking no for an answer"

“I honestly don’t know” Violet handed Finn her phone, taking out the one meant to contact family. “I think she’s going to threaten Malachi into watching over you” Finn laughed.

Ava sighed in relief. While Malachi Black, formerly Aleister to Violet, was dark and broody, he did scare Kenny with a simple stare.

“So how’s Mox doing?” Violet asked

"Good, he got Omega off my back last night at Dynamite, threatened him with Ruby." Ava said "He said something about promising Seth to look out for me?"

"Seth called him and Miro when you decided to go to AEW." Finn explained 

"Called in a couple of favors. You are the baby."

Ava rolled her eyes even though the couple couldn't see her "You've got to be kidding. I can take care of myself"

“We know you can take care of yourself, Seth has a overprotective complex” 

Ava sighed but didn’t disagree. “We got to go now, see you tomorrow!” Violet hung up.

Ava turned off her phone, seeing a text from Kenny. Rolling her eyes she deleted it. “Is he ever gonna get the point?” she asked herself before flopping on her hotel bed with a sigh. He thoughts turning to the next day and the date she'd been dreaming of for years. 

-Next Day-

She met Adam outside a café, the cowboy looking handsome in normal street clothes and without a certain purple and black group shadowing him.

“Wow, you look great” He said. As she grinned and twirled once, showing off the chic black suit she'd chosen for their date. 

“Hope you don’t mind but I invited Violet and Finn just in case your friends crash this”

Adam laughed. “They probably will ”

Inside the cafe, Finn and Violet were waiting at a four person table, surprisingly without their daughter in tow.

"Where's my honey bunches?" Ava said with a pout, that Adam found adorable

"Becky and Seth have her" Finn explained "Shes having a playdate"

“Next time you bring her” Ava pointed. Finn raised his hands and laughed. Violet slid over a black coffee to Adam. 

He accepted it with a smile. “So you’re both going after the top titles in Smackdown” he grinned.

“Yup!” Finn grinned. “It was fun in NXT but I wasn’t spending another week without my husband there” Ava sighed.

“It’s harder to get a title shot in AEW, I have no idea how to get to Britt”

“I lost the chance to be the inaugural champ because someone thought an ass deserved it” Adam muttered.

“Adam I think your shadows are here” Violet pointed to a booth in the corner

Sure enough, the purple and black clad Dark Order filled 2 corner booths, trying and failing to be inconspicuous.

"Oh god" Adam murmured "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have told them where we were going"

"They really care about you" Ava smiled at Adam causing that feeling to flutter in his chest again.

"You may not, have been the first AEW champion but you've got a shot at Kenny at All Out" Finn says

"Sure do" Adam says "I can't wait, I've owed Kenny an ass whipping for a while now"

“Fucking creep” Ava rolled her eyes. “How’s Paige?”

“You don’t know that from Mox?” Violet raised an eyebrow. Ava shook her head

“She’s ok, doing wonders with her makeup. Her and Sonya are planning a wedding”

Ava nodded. “Sorry about the Kingdom disbanding” 

Finn rolled his eyes. “Of course Vince brings up Shotzi and us but doesn’t want Kyle, Millie, Priscilla or Jordan”

Adam and Ava share a smile knowing while AEW wasn't a paradise by any means…it wasn't run by Vince. 

A loud bang sounded from the back of the restaurant and every turned to see one of the corner tables flipped on its side as John Silver looked around sheepishly. 

Adam dropped his head in his hands as Ava giggled "I'm sorry, I'm gonna go uh…handle this" he said rising from his seat and heading toward the back.

"They are quite the band of misfits aren't they?" Violet said as she tried not to laugh as they watched Adam easily lift the table back in place and start seemingly scolding them for crashing their double date.

"They love him, and with the entire….mess with the Elite…their very overprotective." Ava explained

“Reminds me of Seth” Violet said. Ava’s eyes widened.

“It totally is!” Finn laughed as Adam came back and sat down.

“They swear it’s just a coincidence they all wanted to come here on the same day and time as my date”

Violet flipped her hair and put on her flirty voice. “So this a date?

Adam blushed hard. “Um…well, it’s definitely not a…friend thing…we’re not friends. I mean we are friends!, but I want to be more then friends!" 

Ava blushed as she watched Adam flounder under Violet's question 

"Leave him alone, mo chroi" Finn finally rescued the younger man from his wife. 

“I was just being a good friend” Violet smirked.

Adam took a breath. “I don’t know why but I have a thing for goth people”

Ava looked at Violet.

“Really? Is that why you went to the Dark Order?”

“Honestly? Kenny ruined tag teams for me. The Bullet Club went to shit after you were kicked out”  

Finn’s eye twitched, remembering how the Young Bucks fucked him over.

“The Bullet Club is nothing to me now. They ruined it!”

“The Elite’s worse, nothing but kissing Kenny’s ass, apparently he was looking to go to Impact and take their top title”

“Thank god the old man bought them, Impact might have been the worse part of my career but AEW would have ruined them” Violet sipped her ice coffee.

Adam sighed.

“I don’t know what happened. One minute he was my brother, now he’s a stranger” Adam said quietly as Ava rubbed his back

"Its okay, your going to take the AEW title from him at All Out." Ava consoled him.

The 2 couples finished their meal and left the restuarant, Finn and Violet heading to the arena to get ready for Smackdown, and Ava and Adam walking though the city streets enjoying each other's company. 

"This has been great" Ava says as they finally end up back at the hotel

"We'll have to do it again sometime" Adam replied causing Ava to blush again.

"Maybe next time….just the two of us?" He asked softly

“No demon and vampires. No Dark Order” Ava agreed. Adam hugged her.

“Adam!” Evil Uno yelled. The pair looked at the stable. Anna walked over. “Well, the date was a success so Alex made you this” She handed a black jacket to Ava. It had a purple rose stitched in the back.

“Wow, Alex’s a suckup” Adam joked. “I’m totally wearing this next week” Anna smiled.

“C’mon Adam, before the idiots start screaming” 

He rolled his eyes but hugged Ava goodbye, kissing her hair before walking away.

The Next Week 

After spending the weekend and into the next week bouncing between elation over her successful date with Adam (including spending a hefty amount of time texting back and forth with the cowboy) and annoyance that Kenny just would not stop texting and calling, it was finally Wednesday and time for that weeks episode of Dynamite, at which Ava had a match against Nyla Rose.

 

Over the past few days she had gone hunting for more appropriate gear to compliment her new jacket and was now wearing black leather shorts with purple accents and a purple and black corset top. 

"Don't you look like a full fledged member of the misfit society, I really thought you'd have better taste Sweetheart" Kenny said walking up to her, the Young Bucks flanking him

“I’ve liked purple and black before the Dark Order existed” Ava snapped.

Kenny grabbed her arm. “Let go!”

“I just want what’s best for you” Kenny said fiercely 

“HEY!” Darby Allin hit Kenny with a skateboard.

“She’s said no to you for weeks now, get lost!” He roared, Ava seeing why Mox had pretty much adopted him.

Kenny looked panicked and all but ran. The Bucks, glaring at her as the followed

“Thanks” Ava said to Darby. “I hate that fucker”

"Join the club" Darby replied 

Later that night after beating Nyla Rose, Ava was celebrating in the ring when Kenny's music hit and The Elite surrounded the ring. 

"I really tried to do this in private Ava, baby but you just won't listen to me, you'd rather hang out with those losers instead of being part of The Elite"

“I. Am. Not. Your. Baby!” Ava screamed,.

Kenny stepped in, smirking. “Just accept the date”

The crowd began chanting variations of yes and no. 

Then the music of the Dark Order hit, Adam leading the stable to a beat down. Colt tackled Kenny, Adam waving sarcastically at him before going over to Ava, "You okay Darlin?"

"Yeah, fucking asshole. Why won't he leave me alone" 

"Ava, Ava!" Kenny panted, "I have a deal for you, since you and the drunk, seem so close lately, Next week….you and Adam against me and Britt Baker. You win, you get a title shot at All Out. You two lose, Cowboy loses his shot, and you go out with me"

Ava looked at Adam, who was clenching his jaw. Anna and Evil Uno nodded their heads.

Ava grabbed a mic. “We accept! And let’s raise the stakes!!! If we win and move on to kick you asses at All Out, you leave me the fuck alone!” 

Kenny gulped "Done!"

“I’ll add to that!” Adam yelled. “When I kick your ass, you don’t get to have a rematch as long as I’m champion. Let someone else get an opportunity”

"Deal!" Kenny said cockily "It doesn't matter anyway "You two are gonna lose and when you do...not only will Adam never get a shot at the AEW Championship,  Ava...baby...your all mine" 

[frightfurtabby]

HimiKiyo Week 2021 Day 3- The Streets are Long-Ass Gutters

Day 3! Time for a Cyberpunk AU. What is vice and what is virtue in a dystopian future where so many have turned to crime to survive in corrupt corporate states?

I forget if I mentioned this in the last post but all the amino crosspost links will be collected and posted at the end of the week on here. 

Word Count: 3,061

Content: Lots of murder, alcohol reference

Links-

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34139533

People were suffering, toiling away at shitty jobs for next to no pay, exploited by the powerful megacorporations. Back in the past it was only nations or gangs that went to war against each other, or against themselves. The trend now for the last 100 years was corporations fighting actual bloody wars against each other instead. Sending out all the low level grunts who they had no use for anymore to die. The worst, darkest parts of humanity were on full display every day whether it was something that made the news or not.

Still, technology progressed even when it seemed everything else had regressed into feudalism. Death and Life became ever more complex as people started being able to be downloaded and uploaded like AI with most if not all memories intact. So what truly counted as being dead now? Stuff that could have killed you before could be better dealt with enough credits to pay someone under the table.

In this backdrop is where Korekiyo grew up their whole life, initially being insulated from much of it. That all changed when they didn’t have my parents protection any more. One of them found it a “step too far” to put the chip with what remained of Sister’s brain in themself. Among other traditionalist qualms about how they dressed and wanted to modify about themself, such as the metal arm and enhanced nervous system. It wasn’t surprising, given how they reacted to people like them any time the topic was in the news.

So for the next few years they were travelling, studying how various people were dealing with their own conditions with a school anthropology department. And yet they weren’t allowed to publish some findings because the “education” megacorp that ran the colleges blocked it.

After becoming fed up with the state of things Kiyo quit and joined a gang, getting to delve in and know more about the so-called Underworld and its inhabitants. People from all walks of life ended up around them: drifters, ex-corpos, sex workers, mercenaries, people who were all of the above and then some. Almost none of it was surprising.

And just a couple weeks ago there was an incident that changed their trajectory again, though it seemed like it was just another in a long line of similar incidents..

A group of Yakuza, emboldened in their power by even more corporate money laundering, at the behest of a giant media conglomerate attacked the headquarters of a rival channel. They overheard that performers were one the upper floors which included one of the showrunners' nieces, this pulled Kiyo in to follow the hit squad. Spread throughout the floors were average people who hadn’t done anything wrong and not all of them were going to be saved.

They met Himiko Yumeno and saved her life because of being in the right place at the right time. As though it were destiny.

She was  holed up in a locked room and caught a glimpse of a metal arm holding a steady gun and assumed it was one of the attackers, taking Kiyo down suddenly as they searched for people to help. It took a few moments of pleading to clear up the misunderstanding on their part and help her open up an emergency door for the rest of the show’s cast. It was here they were properly introduced to each other.

“I’m so sorry about that. You can never be too careful.” she said. “So if you’re not with them are you, you don’t look like building security? A cop?”

Kiyo shook their head, they weren’t sure if they could tell her what they really were just yet. Mainly because it wasn’t that much different from what the guys currently murdering a bunch of her co-workers were. “We can talk about that later. I’m not the police either, but they’re coming so we should get out before they come in and we get caught in the crossfire.”

“Fair point.”

Himiko followed behind on the way down the steps and both listened to the shots still ringing out. Some were coming from inside the building but it sounded like the police had rolled up on the front side and were now trading fire in between pleas on their radio to stop the attack.

The streets were going to be blocked off for a pretty wide area, and it had already started. So the two weaved through a back alleyway a few blocks back and found a car left unattended by one of the gang squads.

“I’ll hotwire this, get in.” Kiyo placed a hand on the door and scanned the lock requirements and transformed a finger into just the right shape of key to unlock it. She was sighing in relief, tired of running or being on edge already. Even though it couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes since the start of the raid it felt like every moment stretched on for hours.

Kiyo tapped the driver's side glass to run a check and found it to be bulletproof. They weren’t sure if the passenger’s side was equally protected, but the front pane definitely was knowing how important getaway driver’s were considered.

The car started up and Kiyo shot out of the alley fast enough to send a can of trash flying up, and swerved out onto the road. The blockade wasn’t out this far yet, there was probably a shortage of them on the force again. This even had a police scanner in it, to track them. With just a little bit of a tweak it could also send signals out. They considered for a moment if it was worth it. They didn’t think any good would come of anyone following potentially.

So instead they start using their cyborg arm to start fiddling and turn off tracking and both the dash cam on the front and any bio-scanners inside that would prove they had commandeered this vehicle. It was breaking several laws, yes, but it was saving a life. Nothing they weren’t already used to.

Another car sped up to get right behind them. It was the same kind of model, so definitely one of the attackers. Possibly saw the theft or came when it stopped giving a signal. Either way they were now being followed. And when one followed there was likely going to be more. Either by the police who may think they were involved or by crooks mad their car was taken.

They passed the gun to her. “Here, use this should it come to that.”

Traffic picked up further away from the scene they got so it was harder to weave through quick enough until they hit the freeway. Too many witnesses were made to even properly count. And the brief slow down allowed the other vehicle to graze their side, causing Kiyo to need to swerve and almost over-correct around the next corner.

Their company got even and then picked up speed to pull a little bit ahead, the back window rolled down like their passenger side. A man inside was shouting and going for a weapon on his belt, his words drowned out by the speed of air caused by the race, and he wouldn’t get to finish because Himiko fired twice, sending him backwards into his seat and out of sight.

Kiyo sped up again, hearing a cacophony of honks from civilian vehicles upset at being forced to pull to the shoulder. The enemy driver steadied and muttered a prayer before grinding against the passenger side and attempted his own shot only for the third bullet from Himiko embed itself into the arm he was aiming with, causing it to miss and puncture the ceiling of the stolen vehicle.

Himiko’s adrenaline was pumping. Someone was already dead or going to be soon at her hands. Even if it was defensive, the very thought terrified her.

And yet the driver didn’t give up. He grabbed it with his other hand and drove with the forearm of his injured side to go and ram them again. This time another car got between them as Kiyo veered to create distance and avoid rear-ending the unfortunate motorist.

“Listen, please fire again the next time you see him.” Kiyo asked.

She was shaking, and nodded. There wasn’t much to say. It was what had to be done.

The back seat was hit several times, even shattering the windows, before Himiko had a good shot a throwing knife whizzed into her and the sharp edge cut one of her hands. And her return volley hit the door of the driver, who was reloading. In just a few more seconds he would have bullets with her name on them. That knife was to buy him time.

So she used the last shot, shaking off the pain momentarily, and due to how he was hunched over the bullet entered his jaw and he crashed into the wall as he spasmed and convulsed.

Leaving only their car speeding away… for now.

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

Surprisingly, nobody else came. A trip to the outer limits of the city got them away. Kiyo parked in a back alley lot and immediately went and cracked open the trunk. As expected, there were more weapons and some medical supplies for those who were hurt on the job.

She sat down on a milk crate, wincing. “God, this hurts so bad.” She held her opposite hand around her cut to prevent herself from bleeding everywhere as Kiyo brought over the med kit. Blood from her wound was already covering her skirt and leggings.

“That was a close call, I’m glad you’re a surprisingly good shot.” Kiyo said, taking some time to clean and disinfect her first.

“Surprisingly? What’s that supposed to mean?” she huffed at the tall stranger. People were always thinking she was some pushover because she was short and looked young.

Kiyo let the blood soak some before checking how deep the wound was. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything too serious. Wrapping it in some gauze did the trick.

“I don’t mean to offend, but I’ve not seen you fire anything before. How was I supposed to know at that moment?”

“I…” Himiko sighed “I guess you’re right. Thanks by the way. You saved my life.”

“We’re… not entirely out of the clear just yet.” Kiyo said as they got up and dumped the license plate into the alley’s dumpster, quickly covering it with more trash that was littered about, they’d stolen it from the car. It was a bit old fashioned but it would be another piece of evidence that could connect the car to the scene they’d just escaped. Any conclusive proof the gang or cops could find should be destroyed.

“When will we be in the clear?” the girl asked,

She watched her new companion pouring oil from a drum onto the vehicle. And motion her to get back. She took the pack with the rest of the useful medical supplies and Kiyo removed the case of weaponry and looked it over.

“Only when we get to my place. You should probably stay a few days so the hunt dies down… maybe I could put you with a friend in the same-”

“I’m sure your friends are good and all but… I don’t know them yet, I want to stay with you if I gotta pick.”

Kiyo nodded in understanding. “Well then, we’re about.” The tall one did some mental math, checking in quickly with the chip in their head that sped that process up. “35 miles northeast of the complex I live in.”

“And your ride is on the way?”

Kiyo nodded in the affirmative “Indeed. It won’t be very much longer now in fact. It’ll be a couple more blocks up so we’re out of the way when… this goes off.” Then they flicked a match onto the end of the line of oil and rushed with her away.

The way back to the apartment was tense and paranoid. Kiyo put on the online radio to keep track of the news about the situation, switching stations occasionally if they switched coverage to something else or there was nothing new. Chatter online indicated about half the building’s occupants went down with at least injuries. The exact death toll wouldn’t be out until everything had been secured.

“Should I call and tell people I’m okay? I… don’t exactly want to show up as missing on the national news.” Himiko said, shifting nervously in her chair.

“Yes, you can tell someone you trust.” It would look bad if they let their paranoia convince them not to allow her to. Seeming like a kidnapper would just bring unwanted attention. Their associates would be mad and sister told them she didn’t exactly want to spend her time sticking around to just be spent behind bars.

One press and it went to her contact. “I’m okay, I got out. I’ll be in hiding for now. I’m with another friend.”  She had to keep it short on the low battery, unfortunately. Even with being weary of this person still, she thought better of revealing anything more.

She hung up with a farewell after a few more seconds and turned it back off, complaining to the only other who was around to listen. “Of all the days for me to leave the charger at home. Angie even reminded me not to do that.”

“Angie? That’s not a name you hear much in Japan.”

“It’s not, she’s actually from one of those islands out in the pacific. Used to be an American colony before well…”

Kiyo nodded. The United States of America had long since broken up due in part to the corporate wars and there really wasn’t any recognized entity that was still calling itself that. So all the non-mainland territories broke away. Many still are under the boot of large companies whether they were locally built or arrived from overseas since the islands were so rich in natural resources that couldn’t be found in many other places.

The conversation branched out from there, keeping both of their minds occupied with something other than the dread of having even more of those guys after them.

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

During the apartment tour Kiyo showed Himiko around. The kitchenette, which was stocked with microwave instant noodles and burritos, featured a ton of soda and alcohol in the small fridge. All of it was cheap and/or synthetic stuff, clearly Shinguji wasn’t someone living in the lap of luxury.

Then there was the main room. It was in the center, the kitchenette was a small area to the left side. It had tile instead of carpet denoting the otherwise almost nonexistent boundary. There were very few doors: one leading outward to the balcony, one leading to the lone bedroom, and a third leading to the lone bathroom.

“Would you like to sleep out here? It’s generally pretty safe…”

“You look like you’re about to hit me with a huge ‘but’”

“Last month someone tried to break in. They were high off something and thought this was their unit. And rumor has it someone’s found ways to pick locks around here. Mine are up to date enough but you know how it is with malware.”

“Then I’ll sleep uh, in your room. If that’s okay.”

Kiyo agreed, showing her the large bed. It could easily fit both of them even though the majority of the time nobody but Kiyo was using it. There was a wardrobe and a work desk. The work desk held all of their weapons and tech. Many tools were used to keep everything working.

“And yes before you ask, I am too poor to afford all of this. A lot of it is stolen.” Kiyo explained. “Often from people who met an unfortunate fate like our attackers earlier.” Kiyo added the new goods to the collection by putting it on top of the desk.

Thankfully the blinds were always shut on this room. Kiyo had boarded it up and sealed the heat in that way because every so often in places as rundown as this you’d get a window shot out for no real reason other than some assholes felt like it.  

A few hours later they had crawled in and tried to rest. At some point somebody must have wanted more warmth because upon waking up the next morning Kiyo noticed they were now huddling together, arms around the other. It would be a delicate thing to get out of the embrace without waking her up too.

They hesitated. They didn’t have any urgent jobs at this hour, all of those were planned specifically to be later. So was it really wrong to stay put and just see how she’s doing? It was a rough day yesterday after all.

Even with the window boarded up small cracks of light fluttered through. A small reminder the outside still had beauty in it.

Himiko woke up moments later, finding herself curled up to Kiyo and realizing she’d been the one to start being so close. An impulsive thought she wasn’t awake enough to second guess herself. It was odd, how they seemed to be more awake but didn’t leave her.

They sat up and said “Good morning. Sleep well?”

She followed suit and rubbed the gunk out of her eyes. “Yeah. I… hope waking up like that didn’t bother you. I-”

“It doesn’t”

She was ready to profusely apologize so hearing that took a moment to process. “Huh?”

“It was quite nice. It’s been a while since I’ve felt anything as warm as that.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Should I be?”

“Well… no, and I kinda liked it too.” she said shyly, turning to sit down on the edge of the bed, putting some distance between them. “You doing anything today?”

Kiyo consulted their chip again. “No work today, we’ll be hanging out with some people from my crew this afternoon.”

“I look forward to it. I needed a bit of a vacation its just…” she sighed.

“How it happened wasn’t desirable?”

Himiko laughed. “That’s an understatement. It actually sucks so much.” crying broke through and took over. It took almost half a day for what happened to even really sink in. “Everything sucks so fucking much.”

Kiyo offered some tissue from the bedside drawer and Himiko took it, thanking them.

[babylon-cal]

Wildflower {c.h}

Pairing : Calum x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested : by @wildflower-tae : hiiii!! first of all i love your blog,i've followed you for a long time and i love your content. can i request like a scenario/imagine/one shot idk what's the difference haha,with calum based on their song 'wildflower' ? you can do whenever you want with it. hope u have a good day/night. love u,stay safe ♡

Warnings : Mentions of Non-Descriptive Sex

 Word Count : 1.7k

Wildflower (noun) a flower of an uncultivated variety or a flower growing freely without human intervention.

Nothing about how you two met was cliche. It wasn’t like those moments in cheesy HBO rom-coms where the two love interests would lock eyes with each other from across the room in a party, immediately knowing what to say and falling in love soon after. It wasn’t bumping into each other on the street, causing a clumsy exchange followed by soft glances and one of them asking for the other’s number. You and Calum had met naturally, on a random Saturday night. It wasn’t fate. It just happened. Maybe it was a coincidence.

You had snuck out your bedroom window, your feet landing on the grass below. Dressed in your large coat that was wrapped around your old t-shirt and fell to the mid-thigh of your jeans, you jogged across the lawn and out onto the street. The wind blew against your face and hair as you did so. You didn’t have a plan on where to go but you just let your legs carry you to wherever it wanted to, turning left into another street and past the corner shop that you always bought your ice cream from. You were walking now, your hands in the pocket of your coat, one of them fiddling with your pack of cigarettes, the cardboard slightly torn on the edges.

You approached the neighbourhood football field, the only source of light being a streetlight that stood a few metres away. The empty mass of green in the darkness was such a contrast to the usual bright and cheerful atmosphere of children running around after a football for hours, their giggles and yells floating into the air. The two goals that were on either end of the field had rusted posts, the white paint chipped in some places, exposing the reddish brown metal underneath. On the adjacent sides of the fields, were some empty wooden bleachers that looked unfamiliar since they were usually occupied by parents during the friendly football matches that the neighbourhood committee organised every month.

As you approached one of them, you noticed someone sitting on the top of the bleacher seats. He was wearing a dark coloured hoodie and sweatpants, with a beanie nestled neatly on his head. He had a cigarette between his fingers and he didn’t notice you to the left of him, swinging over the railing to land about 3 feet away from where he was.

“Got room for one more?,” His head turned to notice you, hands in your coat pocket, a small smile on your face. He blinked for a few seconds before speaking up.

“Sure, why not?” He took another hit of his cigarette as you sat next to him, a few inches of space between both your legs. You took out your pack and pulled out a tab. “Here, let me,” Calum said, offering to light it for you with his lighter. He was definitely more friendly that you would have thought him out to be, judging from how he looked at first glance. His thick eyebrows accompanied with the moderate amount of facial hair above his lip and across his jaw and chin made him come across as slightly intimidating, his voice being a contributing factor to that as well. You placed the cigarette between your lips as he lighted it for you, his eyes meeting yours momentarily. You used this to give him a cheeky, flirtatious look causing him to awkwardly look down at the flame, only to find a particular interest in the shape of your lips as an orange hue from the fire casted itself on them.

“I’m Calum, by the way,” his voice was deep but also soft at the same time, like the feeling you get across your arms when a warm blanket wraps around them when it’s raining outside. Tingles that lasted for a few seconds.

I hear you calling out my name, I love the sound

“Calum?” you repeated and took a puff. You hated how terrible it tasted - like a bunch of household chemicals, which was easy to say it might as well be, to be fair. The first time you smoked, you remembered it being so dry and it burned your throat but it calmed you down. Since then, it always felt like your lungs were wrapped in a warm blanket - like Calum’s voice did to you just a few seconds ago.

I love the taste

Only yourself and Calum knew how you ended up connected at the lips, the cigarettes dropped from your hands and falling through the crack between the rows and onto the grass below, burning themselves out. Your hands were wrapped around his neck, while he had one hand on your thigh as his other pressed against your back. You could taste the herbs and chemicals on his lips and was certain he could taste them on yours as well. However, you were too busy focusing on how it felt - surprisingly soft, not at all chapped, and the tiny hairs around them poked at your face. It tickled a little bit. His hand on your thigh radiated a heat that you had never found anywhere else.

And I can see it in your face, you’ve got a side you can’t explain

Kissing Calum felt like an escapade from the daily hustle of everyday life, being a victim of capitalism and forced social conformity. Conventions trying to label everybody and categorise them into boxes. Kissing Calum felt like a “fuck that” to all those things. It felt like eating chocolate cake at 3a.m. because no one can tell you not to or taking long drives across the empty streets at 7a.m. to watch the sunrise in a lookout because no one really takes the time to appreciate something like that anymore. Not like you would ever let this man you just met know this, regardless of whether he had his tongue in your mouth or not.

You always thought your mind to be like the universe - ever-expanding with all its multiple complex structures and forms, where no one really understands what they’re ALL for or how they got to be but it takes a long time for an outside body to discover and understand its functions, compositions and complexities. That was just how your brain was wired, you let it do its own thing - there was no need for intervention. 

Unlike you, kissing a random stranger they had just met was out of Calum’s nature. At least, since he turned 20. However, there was something about your energy and presence that made him feel impulsive, dare he say maybe even careless. All of his personal convictions and promises he made to himself seemed to shrink and hide themselves in the back of his mind when he let go of his inhibitions to impulsively press his lips to yours.

You’re telling me you wanna come over, you wanna be closer

You pulled apart from the passionate exchange, your lips distanced by only a few inches. The heavy breathing led to the smell of tobacco and tar overwhelmingly stimulating your senses causing slight discomfort to settle at the back of your throat. Calum’s hand had moved further up your thigh, his large hand now resting on the side of your ass and the warmth radiated through the material of your jeans.

“Let’s go back to your place,” you suggested and he fully agreed. Going back with a man you just met? Sounds like a wish for the most awful things you could think of but you took the risk anyway, especially when he gave your ass a gentle squeeze and kissed you again for a few seconds. He let out a low hum as he did so, the small transfer of vibrations from his throat drove you absolutely mad.

Cuz I know where tonight is going

The walk back to Calum’s house was spent with paced footsteps and your hand gently held in his. The air was colder now, and you felt it breeze through your hair. During this time Calum had learnt a few things about you, realising that you were quite the opposite to him. As the headlights of the black Subaru shone as it drove in the opposite direction of your walk, the conversation between the two of you had led Calum to ask you what your plan for the future was.

“I don’t know,” was all you replied, a small smile tugged at your lips. His face was drawn to confusion soon enough, his eyebrows furrowing as he glanced at you.

“You don’t know? How do you not know?” By this point you were at his front door. He searched for his keys and unlocked the door.

“Less talking,” you replied, closing the door behind you as you entered and pulling him in by the collar to connect your lips hastily. Soon enough, a trail of clothes were left leading up to his room with the night ending in heavy breaths and the creaking of the beds shrouded in secrecy within the four walls.

You’re the only one that makes me…, everytime we…,

Calum had found your carefree, liberated nature absolutely fascinating and the sex felt like something out of a dream. Intense, passionate and almost like a haze when it ended but it was the best each of you could have asked for. It happened again, and Calum knew that if he gave in, you would be up all night tangled with each other.

I’ll tell you what I like

He had asked you for your number as you put your clothes on at the foot of the bed. If it wasn’t for the bedside lamp that he had turned on, the room would be in pitch darkness. As you tied your shoelaces, you looked up to him when he asked the question, the covers now covering the lower half of his body. You blinked over the tattoos that were intricately spread out across his torso, noticing a MMXII under his right collarbone.

My wildflower

“Well, I usually don’t give my number out,” you said walking towards him. “because i just like meeting people or bumping into them,” you paused “but..” you leaned in closer to his face “maybe I’ll see you around the football field again,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek and proceeded to leave his house, leaving him wondering and desperate to see you again and as much as he wanted to be able to see you what he wanted, he figured by now that you’re a wildflower, growing freely without human intervention.

[serifsans]

Vladimir walks into Jean-Paul's apartment to find the vaporvolph sniffling while eating homemade frosting out of a bowl. It looks surprisingly good, actually, and Vladimir feels a little rush of pride because hell yeah, his partner-in-crime made something in spite of the fact that they have enormous self-doubt about their ability to create anything worthwhile. Paulie usually doesn't attempt anything more complex than (vegan) eggs and maybe pancakes if they're feeling daring. JP considers their ability to order out a sign they've not only made it as a human being but also a personal fuck you to everyone who was ever cruel to them when they were homeless.

"Hey, what's the matter? You're going to get tears in that bowl," he says. JP told him on the phone that he fucked up something horrendously but didn't elaborate. Knowing JP, she could have either been caught shoplifting or he fucked up his nail polish. Vlad doesn't know why they keep on doing their own nail polish when he does a better job of doing their nails. Actually, he also doesn't understand why JP will throw their money around on everything else but absolutely refuses to go in and get a manicure.

"I'm a failure," they say around a mouthful of frosting, the most dejected look possible on their face. Vladimir locks the door and then sits beside them on the couch, JP immediately burying their face against his chest for comfort and because they're a pec man. Vladimir welcomes this.

"Come on now, you're not a failure. What happened?"

He pets JP's hair soothingly and his ears pop out, the boundaries of his pink ears shifting with color in a way that used to give him a headache if he focused on it too long. He's used to it now, even though JP rarely shows off his ears and tail and flat-out refuses to let him look at him in his natural state if he can help it, even though Vladimir's seen him before volph-like and he's so fucking adorable.

Vladimir does not give them ear scritches. His soul cries out for it but he doesn't want to treat his cute alien boyfriend like a dog because that's kind of fucked up. JP redirects his hand to their ears. They're so soft and velvety and it's so fantastic that he'd cry if he didn't have to be strong in the face of JP's great tragedy. Life is good sometimes.

"My mother was right," they sniffle. "I'll never be able to keep up a household. I can't even bake a cake. It has instructions on the side of the box, Vladimir. How could I fuck something up so basic?"

He gives his ears a real good rub. A pink tail makes itself known and thumps against the sofa. They are so fucking cute.

"These things are hard, my love. You cannot get them right on the first try, sometimes not the fifth. Also, fuck that woman."

JP lets out a sad little sound of disbelief and mashes their face further against his chest. Vladimir has the distinct feeling how JP might need to be comforted through the terrible trauma of messing up a cake and he is perfectly fine with that.

"I'm older than this solar system and I can't do simple tasks. I can't provide for anyone. I'm a mess of a human, darling. I used to be so put-together and now I need you to solve all my problems. It's not fair to you."

Okay, so this is definitely not really about a cake. Most things with JP aren't about what JP thinks they're about: the impulse purchases, their petty grudges against people they barely know, their insistence on wearing a suit at all possible times.

"You've solved a lot of my problems. I can solve some of yours," he replies. "Besides, solving problems for people is kind of sexy, don't you think?"

The earns a snort and another thump of a tail against the sofa.

"Maybe a little," they say.

They gather in the kitchen to inspect the problem: a still-warm cake still sitting in the cake pan. It looks a little funny, like maybe JP threw a bunch of flavors into it, which is probably the case. It's probably still good though.

"I greased it with butter like they said but I just can't get it out of the pan," Jean-Paul explains, his tail drooping.

Okay. Okay, this isn't a big deal. It's just a cake. Vladimir can solve it. Jean-Paul has the weak arms of a baby even though they can make themself buff at any time, so they probably weren't applying enough force.

Vlad picks it up, turns it upside down, and gives it a good thump because that seems right. Probably. Vlad doesn't bake but it can't possibly be that hard.

The cake doesn't budge. He thumps it again. Still nothing. A third time. Nothing again. Okay, Vladimir's got a pretty strong arm because he lifts for fun, so this has got to be a pretty powerful cake right here.

"I already tried that. It's stuck."

"It's just a cake. How hard can it be? Do not worry, I will get it out. Do not fret, my dear Mr. Poinsette."

Vladimir does not get it out, no matter how hard he thumps it. It has defeated him. His hand kind of hurts even though it's just a dinky little cake pan made of aluminum or some shit. He hopes this isn't an indication that he's getting old but he's sixty, so he guesses he is old now.

He tries not to think about his advancing age too much. Mortality is unpleasant. If someone offered him the chance for immortality, he'd take it in an instant. Humanity's highly overrated.

"It's fucked, darling. I'm going to have to throw the whole thing out, aren't I? And I spent my entire paycheck on baking supplies."

Okay, they're definitely going to have a conversation about that because Jean-Paul's throwing his money away left and right on frivolous things lately and that usually means he's going to spiral down into one of his bleak moods, but that's going to wait a bit.

"No, I'm going to get this," Vladimir declares. "Hold on."

He takes a detour to the closet for a second and returns with something that's sure to get that stubborn cake out if he can't rely on his own arm.

"I'm sorry, darling, is that a hammer?"

He doesn't understand why JP's looking at him aghast. It just needs to be thumped real hard.

"It's a mallet. Do not worry, I will be gentle with it. I won't dent it."

This is a really good idea. Vladimir's helping. He feels so proud of himself for his ingenuity.

"No, absolutely not, you're not taking a mallet to my cake."

"I'd be taking it to the cake pan," Vladimir says, which is the wrong thing to say. Paulie snatches up the mallet and shoves it into the junk drawer, which is not where tools go but whatever, this is JP's place, they can do whatever they want.

"Nope, we're done here. I'm throwing in the towel. My cake's a failure," Jean-Paul declares as he moves to throw it away.

"No, no, I can still save this. Let me save this."

He can tell by the look in their eyes that they don't actually believe their mistake can be salvaged but they let him try anyway. He can pry this out with a knife. He's pretty sure that's a thing people do, right? It doesn't look nonstick, so it should be fine. Vladimir will provide for his greedy little alien. This is a test not only of his ability as a partner but his very manhood itself.

His gaze falls on a novelty paw-shaped spatula. This has to be better than a knife: more surface area. He brandishes it like a weapon.

"Don't eat all the frosting," he says. "We're going to save this cake."

Vlad takes the spatula and carefully slides the spatula in between the cake and the pan to loosen it. He's doing it. He's freeing this cake. When he's done, he flips it over and half of it falls off onto the waiting plate below while the rest remains behind.

Oh. That isn't right.

"Well, we tried," JP says with a sigh. "The only thing left is to throw it all away, I guess. I'm never doing this again. Baking's overrated."

Maybe this can still be saved.

"Hey, no, listen to me: it's still good. Just put some icing on top and some ice cream and say it's a crumble. Maybe don't take it to your party though."

The icing immediately melts off because the cake's still too warm. JP throws way too much ice cream on it because of his innate volph sensibilities. The cake/crumble is too moist and tastes a little like pistachio pudding. It's not great but he's not going to say that.

Vladimir still eats every bite.

[bibliocratic]

Soulmate au for jm prompts? Any kind you want

soul-identifying marks, jonmartin, episodes 158-160 spoilers

(this prompt came into my home and beat me over the brain.)(it might not be exactly what you were after, hope it’s ok!)

–

Martin’s waging a passive-aggressive one-man war against an excel spreadsheet when the temperature, risen to bearable by the grunting old radiator in the corner, swan-dives into shivery.

“Peter,” Martin says, not exactly a greeting, as frayingly cordial as he can manage. Not absolving Peter’s intrusion with his attention, triple-pressing the right mouse button and hissing an irate oh come on when the computer refuses to bend to his will and instead freezes again.

Peter will say whatever mysterious bollocks he’s come to imply and hint at and implicate, scattering his bloody breadcrumbs. Martin will be left just as pissed off and in the dark as he was before, so he might as well get it over with so Martin can actually get some work done.

Surprisingly, Peter doesn’t say anything. That’s actually what makes Martin turn round.

Peter’s slate-shingle eyes are observing Martin’s exposed lower arms. Sleeves rolled up haphazard out of his way, folded over in messy and unmatching bunches at his elbow.

He’s studying the designs that blemish the sun-ditched pale of his freckled arm with an interest Martin baulks at. Traces with his eyes the blocky wood-cut patterns in precise and abrupt black lines that start at the line of his watch, sprout up and under his clothes. Idly, he takes his time to let his gaze traverse over the open pages of tomes unfilled with words and unbroken by ink; the landscape of woodland and tree lines and shadowy hollows of roads mysterious or untaken that mar the faint curve of his lower arm. The lantern swinging on the bough of a wintry tree, its candle recently blown out.

The eye, thick and wide, staring out at the crease of his elbow.

Peter flicks a glance up, and Martin reads something like pity there. His face heats.

“The Archivist?” Peter Lukas asks. His voice isn’t mocking. Martin isn’t sure what it it.

He hates the tone of it.

“Do you want something?” Martin responds curtly. Frosty. Tugging his sleeves back down pointedly.

Peter’s expression is ever so proud.

–

When Jon wakes up, he charts the changes death has wrought on him. Sitting on the small bed he’s set up in document storage, swaddled in the uncomforting comfort of his archives, he chronicles the new damages done. The rough tissue of scars on his arms, upper legs, chest. Pitted marks from shrapnel and debris and being in the radius blast of an explosion.  He supposes it could be worse.

He thumbs at the faded, almost unrecognisable nazar just below his shoulder, the crossed compass and ruler nearby in the same state. The colour bleeding out of them like they’ve been left too long in the dark. He doesn’t think about his parents much. Not in a long time. His memories sanded down to an uncertain rote recollection that his brain is equally as likely to have invented as not. He doesn’t recall enough to miss them, but there must be something there for him to still bear them on his skin.

There’s a bleary shape splotched on his inner wrist. Forming like the build-up of sediment, the slow grind of tide, and it has been doing so for months, since before he died.

It’s almost fully realised now. He rubs at the shape of it tentatively  as though the colour might run if he’s too rough with it. The delicate fawn-brown of its wings, the beaded black circle of its eyes.

He knows who it represents. Impossible not to, really. It’s his representation after all. The complex understanding of a human being realised as imagery and flowering on his skin.

He stares at the nightingale for the longest time.

–

When Martin was nine, struck by the well-echo hollow in his chest, unable to articulate the shamed and hot tears his mother would scold with a cluck of disappointment, he tried to clean the clock off his right leg. Sitting in the bath with the water gagging with too many bubbles, he scrubbed at the cogs and mechanical intestines of the thing, seeing the lies of his father in how it was wound, not wanting it, because surely if his dad had loved him then he wouldn’t have left, and if he didn’t then why should Martin boast his love so obviously. He held and scrubbed until his skin was pink and scalded and he’d started to wince. But connection doesn’t work like that, and so the clock never disappeared, and Martin tried to ignore it every time he took a shower.

Turns out the Forsaken was good for something after all.

–

“How’s the poetry?” Jon stammers at him, so obviously, earnestly angling to drag out their impromptu meeting. Martin wants to be anywhere else but here.

“Jon, I really need to – ”

“Oh. Yeah. I – sorry, I-I know you’ve got… your thing with Peter Lukas.”

“It’s not like that – ”

“I-I know, I know, sorry, I didn’t mean…” Jon stops. His eyes – and were they always so gaunt, so hungry in his face? – have stopped trying to both catch and avoid Martin’s gaze apparently simultaneously, and they’ve snagged instead on Martin’s collar. For a moment, something too thirsty catalogues the pale and vacant skin of his throat, where the purple hooded bells of monkshood usually thronged. Their leaves had grown spikier as he’d aged, stretching out to his Adam’s apple in a bid to form a collar of choking vines.

“Martin…” Jon stares at empty skin, and his expression blooms into something comprehending and distraught.

“I have to go, Jon,” Martin says forcefully.  He doesn’t give Jon much of a chance to reply.

He doesn’t want Jon’s sorries. Doesn’t need his worries or his understanding.

He just wants him to be safe.

–

The nightingale sings entangled by coarse and insidious brambles. Jon’s taken to holding his hand over the pattern, like shielding with a careful hand a wind-tossed, guttering flame, when the hunger starts to gnaw though him like frostbite.

It doesn’t stop there. The emblems grow into iconography, twist into tableau. The pictures grow and spread simply as moss, and Jon doesn’t despair because he doesn’t have the space for it any more.

Jon’s evidence has always been discrete. The stamped shapes for his parents like memorial images were all he held for the longest time. Something started to flourish for his grandmother, when she took him in, and he tried to show her the blotched shape in a childish effort to bring them closer. She hadn’t needed to stay anything. She pursed her lip and strained an apologetic glance and he knew even at that age that there was nothing, would be nothing in kind, decorating her skin for him. That choked the image like weeds, and it faded quickly as the passing of inclement weather.

The space, at his jutting hip-bone, was only later taken up by Georgie’s mark. That one never faded quite like the image for his grandmother or for his parents, but it went sun-stained and overexposed long before they broke up.

Martin’s imagery is not so subtle.

It swallows up his arm, roils over his shoulder-blades, infects the untouched skin over his collar bone.

Jon takes to wearing longer sleeves.

–

Martin’s skin has always taken easily to marking. Some people do, he guesses. Wear their hearts on their sleeves, on their throat, on their stomach. Martin’s a scattered museum of loves that he’s tended to over the years, unrequited affections or spluttered out romances.

He’s pleased, in those early days, that nothing ever bruises on his skin for Jon. He likes Jon, even fancies him, for a long time. And it’s annoying, because Jon can be a real arse, but it’s manageable. Jon doesn’t make him go hot at the nape of his neck or make him stumble over his words. His presence encourages harmless daydreams and flights of fancy, but Martin’s under no illusions.

And then Jon listens to his statement. Sits him down, and believes him, and doesn’t break eye contact the whole time.

And Martin had felt, dazedly, Seen. For the first time in a long time.

The first eye had opened up around then like an unclenching fist under his ribs. He’d seen it a week later. Had thought oh and had quickly dressed to cover it.

It’s not the first mark this love leaves him. In time, it scores him with tooth marks and sailor’s knots of worry, and eyes, always eyes, blinking open over his flesh.

He loses the one on his ankle first. Scratches at the space where it was, touching the crease where his sock has dug a band around his skin, right where the line used to bisect the thick and dark pupil.

Then the one on his lower back. His upper thigh. His left wrist.

It’s for the best, Martin, Peter says when he catches him looking at the undamaged patch of skin these absences leave behind.

Martin doesn’t disagree.

By the time Lukas banishes him to the mercy of Forsaken, thwarted and cheated and feeling something almost human, Martin’s skin has already been entirely washed clean.

–

There’s a nightingale on Jon’s wrist. It’s one of the first things that catches his vision, that refocuses from blurry in this undemanding nothing. The colour is too vivid, lurid in this desaturated landscape.

The bird is nestled, or maybe caught, in a twisting of brambles but its beak is open in song.

“Look at me, and tell me what you See,” Jon asks him, and Martin wonders if maybe Jon’s been carrying around his own heart on his sleeve for a while now.

–

His mother’s flowers don’t grow back when he vacates the Lonely. His father’s clockwork finally cleansed from him. The leaves and keys and umbrellas of the numerous small loves and connections he’s now lost the taste of.

Martin’s skin remains unblemished and clear, and he wonders if the Lonely took this capacity from him.

Jon’s hand is dry in his. And nothing blooms on Martin’s arms but a sensation like prickling, like pins and needles, settles under his skin, and Martin holds on just as tightly.

–

There was a downpour on the way back to the safehouse. The sky splitting with a cascade of rain, sheets moving in waves and quickly transforming dewy grass into boggy swamp-land. Their waterproofs, such as they are, have done a poor job and failed to live up to their name, and Jon is dripping a cloud’s-worth of rainfall from his hair alone as he crosses the threshold. Martin, no different, water draining off him like guttering, tuts. Helps him strip the sucking, soaking outer layers off, frigid fingers fumbling with the pull of the zip. Jon awkwardly gets in the way in his efforts to return the gesture, making a face at the sodden slump of Martin’s waterlogged woollen jumper as it hits the floor. Martin catches his t-shirt on his nose as he tries to pull it over his head, trying to unbutton and kick off his clinging trousers in one motion. 

He doesn’t feel embarrassed. Doesn’t cross his mind to be. It’s hard, when Jon’s snickering as he nearly trips over his own legs in his efforts to shake his legs free, when they’ve been clung to each other like tethered buoys each night, coddled by the unbroken dark.

“I’ll get dry clothes,” Martin says, the first to have divested himself of most of his clothes, and he bounds upstairs, damp feet squeaking and slipping, longing for a hot shower as he trails puddles into the bedroom. He throws on thick pyjama bottoms, is half wrenching on an errant t-shirt before he realises it’s Jon’s and has to rifle around for a spare one of his own before he slips it on. He collects some clothes for Jon and rushes back.

Jon’s managed to get off his own trousers, slopped in a pile of fabric by his feet, the skin goosepimpling and dark hair standing stark from the chill. He’s pulling his sticking vest off over his head as Martin returns.

Martin sucks in a gasp. Jon blinks, confused for a moment before a reddening mark stripes across the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, splotches at the dip of his neckline.

“What…?” Martin starts, staring at the tapestry on his skin, and he can’t help it.

Before, Tim would joke that Jon loved his job more than he loved people. Was probably conservatively decorated in little stylisations of his perpetually present tape-recorders, probably had a library over his heart. It was something he said as a joke at the beginning and hissed as a recrimination by the end, and Martin and Sasha (and later only Martin) would tell him off, tell him to keep it down, that it wasn’t fair, that it wasn’t his business. But if Jon had been marked, they wouldn’t have known. They were hidden under crisp shirt sleeves and well-placed collars even in summer.

The nightingale, wings scratched by thorns, was the first image Martin had ever seen Jon wear. He’d expected that to be it, had hoped such an emblem was meant for him, but it, well, it is dwarfed in comparison to the harmony of colour struck over Jon’s body like a collage.

Every piece of skin that is not torn up and jagged with scars has been brought into the striking shock of deep blues and blacks that slide and ring over dark skin. A choir of imagery that Martin can’t decipher immediately, like a jigsaw he has to step back from, the artworks all wrapped up in each other, each feeding off the other. There are nightingales, some grounded on thin wind-touched branches, some held mid-flight; these become a stylised compass pointing north. There’s the solid structure of a lighthouse taking up most of his gangly upper arm, its lower levels painted in a sea bound mist, or it could be the curling wisps of inviting steam. His stomach, curving concave, is overwhelmed by the imperious crags of icy cliffs, the rocks dashed by high foaming waves, above which hangs the ribboning line of northern lights.  On the sea, a sturdy boat tipping on the water, its spinnaker puffed out and billowing in defiance.

There is so much, so much of Jon taken up, painted in testament, and for a long moment, Martin doesn’t understand.

Jon looks at his feet, and then glances, almost shyly, at Martin’s unpainted throat, his blank arms. Visibly steels himself, moves his gaze up to meet Martin’s.

“It…” he begins, before he breathes in, sets his spine straight. “You. It’s – it’s you. In case, in case you didn’t know.”

“Can – ?” Martin asks, and his fingers are twitching, yearning to trace the lines, to memorise their shapes, and Jon blinks again and then makes a nervy nodding motion.

Martin’s about to reach out before he remembers that Jon’s half-naked and dripping wet in the hallway, that the stone flags will be frozen on his feet, that now is perhaps not the ideal time.

Later. After they warm up, after they shower and the gas boiler grunts and complains and then near-burns them with hot water, after they dress in pyjamas warmed on the radiators, after they go upstairs. Martin runs his hand reverently, shakily over the lighthouse, the compass, the boat, the birds, wonders if this is how Jon sees him, how Jon understands him, wonders why he’s taken up so much space. Looks at all the pictures that are both isolation and sanctuary, song and sorrow and strength, tries to decipher what Jon sees in him.

“There’s so much,” he marvels softly, scarcely believing, hovering the pads of his fingers over the horizon line of a lightening sky, the peaking gleam of a sunrise at Jon’s lower back, the anchor bound in twisting rope around his ankle bone, the up shoots of snow-drops and lily-of-the-valley not far away. Most people get one image, maybe two or three, as proof of meaning to another person, as a tangible reflection of connection. Martin has an entire gallery exhibited across Jon’s body.

“You mean so much,” Jon says softly in response, like that explains it. Maybe for him, it does.

He charts the other bold designs he finds. Realising that for all his earlier pretences, Jon has not, and never has been an island. There’s Daisy’s faintly rusted golden chain caked in mud and blood around his other ankle, Gerard Keay’s thick leather-bound book, its open pages wreathed in fire, the near-vanished marks for his parents, for Georgie, the scant others who came into his life and left their mark.

There might have been an eye, wide and open and unyielding, and it would stare out at the bottom of Jon’s throat if it wasn’t for the rush of wild-flowers also grown there, snow-drops and holly-berries obscuring its vision.

Jon asks him, falteringly, as though unsure of forming the question in his mouth, what Martin had. Before the sea-salt wash of Forsaken cleaned them from him.

And Martin points to where his mum, his dad, his old loves left their remembrances on him. Carefully, honestly, he tells Jon about the tooth marks clamped around limbs like he’d been bitten, because it was not always a kind love Jon made him feel. The eyes that near the end had swarmed like frog-spawn around his middle, slashed across his back like a constellation. The forbidding forest on his arm, the lantern.

Jon strokes the places where he would have seen these things.

“If they don’t come back….” Martin says, and Jon hums.

“They might not,” he says. “That’s… that’s OK.”

“But…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jon says, and he touches at the space where he would have marked Martin ever so kindly. “Something new might show up. In time.”

“Yeah?” Martin croaks, and it’s not a question of if it will or not. Jon’s looking up at him, a smile on his face, his whole body inked with how much he feels, all the words he finds so difficult to express writ large on his body. Martin’s heart feels too big for his chest. And he wonders what meaning they might make of each other together.

[sanders-sides-fic]

There is no nice deathworlders! (Right?)  [Chapter 2]

AU-Masterpost: here

The creath had white skin with a few red-ish lines that reminded Virgil of marble. The scales were red still and his horns and claws were golden now.

Virgil always thought that a creathen looked like demons had been described to look like back on earth. Even the rope-like tail with the triangle scale on the end. Really, they could have been a demon from the looks alone. But he knew that wasn’t true. Inside a creathen there were two people, who were vied as siblings. There was always one creath with a hero-complex and one feral creath, and if a creathen was a demon than only because the latter took control for too long and lost it.

Still, since he couldn’t be sure the nicer creath was in control and since he couldn’t say wether or not he’d a be nice to him, he had tied him up with some vines after treading his head wound as good as he could. The skin had cracked there, which was never good for a creathen body.

Virgil has been right about the storm as well. Dark clouds hadn’t left the sky even long after the day had started on ZH-8. Hell, it’d probably soon grow dark again and the only light was from lightning still! And the creathen still hadn’t woken up.

Virgil sighed, as he leaned back against the wall of the cave. It was a nice cave and he really hoped this wouldn’t end in a cliche scene with them trapped by a bunch of rocks until they suffocated. But other than that Virgil enjoyed the dark nooks all over and the high ceiling. When the lightning had stopped a little earlier, he had even managed to find some eatable plant for his unwilling guest. Not for him, though. He had all his knowledge from a book about this planet and in those books raspberries were listed as poisonous but rowan berries weren’t. He didn’t trust those books for his own species anymore since he’d discovered this.

He did, however, find a pond with fish. Right now he was debating wether he should actually eat the alien animal over the fire. He had yet to encounter a non-eatable animal on any planet other than earth, but that could just be luck. And luck tended to run out. On the other hand, he was famished. Due to his fear of most foods in space, he had a very limited range of things to eat and whenever he ran out, it took some time to grow desperate enough. Right now, he was going three days without food. And he would probably have to fight later on.

So eating it was, he decided. and before he could change his mind, Virgil rushed to take the iridescent fish away from the little fire he had managed to create after hours of waiting for the wood to dry enough. “Well, here’s hoping the rainbow won’t fail me…”, he muttered as he observed the colorful fish in suspicion one last time. And then he bit in it.

It… tased pretty good, actually? The texture reminded him of salmon and the tase was something close to tuna with lemon. It was strange, but at the same time the most normal food he’d had in a long time. And if he switched between savoring the taste and tearing into the animal hungrily, well, no one was there to witness it.

Janus wouldn’t ever let him live this down, though.

Virgil froze at that thought. Janus, huh? He just hoped the rumors had been incorrect or, if they were actually true, that Janus had found shelter. And then there were the creathen’s shipmates. For some reason that Virgil didn’t know a creathen never came alone. Really, never. Not once. He’d even seen people start to look around and ask a creathen they just meet for the first time where their friends were. And there had always been an answer. So there had to be at least one other alien here. Would they be alright in this storm? He strongly hoped so.

Well, he would go out once this storm got better and search this stupid planet for his own friend as throughly as he possibly could. If he was to find any of this guy’s shipmates, he would bring them back here, too. Hopefully they wouldn’t attack him for trying to do so. He was pretty good in common by now, but not good enough to communicate everything. And sometimes not fast enough. And then there was that little problem of talking to new people. Selective mutism wasn’t very fun, especially when you tried to get some aliens to understand you didn’t intent to hurt them.

Virgil was so invested in his thoughts, that he didn’t even notice Roman waking up at first. Roman didn’t notice him either, though. »Ouch. My head hurts… What happened, Rem?«, he asked his brother mentally, his eyes closed again. He didn’t want to move for a little while. However, after a few moment he realized that Remus wasn’t answering. That couldn’t be good. Sure, when he was in control Remus was mostly sleeping in the back of their mind, but there was no way his twin was able to sleep through this pain. Pain and fear were what fueled Remus, after all.

»Remus?«, Roman tried again, slightly more panicked. Nothing again. »Remus?! Come on, this isn’t funny! Say something… Please…« Another unsuccessful attempt. What was wrong? It wasn’t possible to lose your twin, right? Right?!

The thought alone was enough to make Roman want to throw up. He hated his brother, hated his gruesome, irksome and vile thoughts, hated the chaos and danger he brought. But he also loved how Remus would never fail to find amusement in the worst of situations, the way he never turned around and never cared about what people would think. He hated Remus, yes, but he loved him even more. The very thought never to talk to his other half again, to suddenly be all alone in this body… A shiver run down Roman’s spine.

Fearfully, he decided to asses the situation around him. Surprisingly all he saw was stone, then darkness. And then a thunder. He could hear rain and a strange crackling sound. Was that…? Oh, dear stars, there was a fire near by! Had a lightning caught up a tree? Roman could only hope it wasn’t close enough to hurt him.

Since he couldn’t really see anything without the lightning, he guessed it wasn’t directly next to him. And the stone… Was he in a cave or something? With a sigh he decided to sit up. Or, try to. Because when he went to move his hands to help him support himself, he couldn’t move them. Now that he thought about it, he could feel something around them, just out of reach of his claws. He could move them a little, though. Almost as though he was tied up. But that was impossible, right?

Slowly he sat up without his hands, now hyperaware of the dragging sound it caused. If he was right about this, then there was a high chance his captor was still somewhere in this cave as well. And the echoing sound surely didn’t help his awakening to stay unnoticed.

To his horror, it would seem that he had been right about being tied up: His hands were held together by what looked like some sort of vines that were weirdly wrapped around his wrists multiple times. They were knotted together in a way that he couldn’t seem to match to any knots he’d seen before. He couldn’t tell where they were attached to either. It looked something like a weirdly shaped rock or maybe a root or something. He couldn’t be sure, not with so little light. He was sure, however, that it was meant to keep him here. He could reach the floor and it was long enough for him to sit up with his hands in his lap, but nothing more. He was sure that he couldn’t fight like this and that he wouldn’t be able to free himself.

Oh, great. Fantastic, really. Stars, what had he done to deserve this?!

Roman absolutely hated this. He hated how vulnerable and exposed it made him feel. And it hadn’t even been that long! Maybe he would have been able to hang in there better if he would have had Remus’s support, though. This was the first time his twin didn’t help him through such a scary and painful situation after all-

Suddenly, another echoing sound that he’d describe as a clatter, almost as though something has been dropped, echoed around him. So his captor really was with him still, huh? He bitterly grimaced, trying to look around. Surely he wouldn’t be able to make out much, but maybe a shadow or something if there were some fluorescent animals living here? Perhaps, if he had a lot of luck, just so that he had something to go by and wouldn’t be on edge this much?

What he didn’t expect was to see a fire only a short distance away from him. And even less did he expect an alien sitting next to the fire calmly. In the flickering light Roman could make out a little bit of their features. They had two upper limps and two lower ones. They were huge and had fur on top of their head, but seemingly no where else. But what he could make out best, and what was the most unsettling thing here, was that they had some bright skin in the color of a petherican’s egg shells and hands with five, long digits with almost transparent claws on the end.

It couldn’t be a deathworlder, could it? That wouldn’t make any sense. A deathworlder wouldn’t have left him alive so long. But they didn’t seem to be afraid of the fire and the knot they had used on Roman’s restrains were something he hadn’t seen before in any corner of the galaxy, so maybe…

Another lightning flashed and illuminated the cave. And this time he was absolutely sure: That thing there fitted every description he had ever heard or seen of a deathworlder. So that meant he was stuck in a position where he couldn’t fight without his more dangerous half inside a cave with the most vicious alien known, a deathworlder?!

Long forgotten horror stories reappeared in Roman’s mind that very moment. Cautionary tales of deathworlders capturing other species to toy with them or torture them. Whispered stories about them cutting up and eating aliens while they were still alive. Rumors of two certain deathworlders pretending to be nice before stabbing you in the back once they got what they wanted.

What was it that this deathworlder wanted? Did they want to see Roman scream and beg? Would they torture him? Maybe they figured that there had been others with Roman and wanted to find them first? Oh, god! What if they wanted to use Roman to lure his friends out?! He wouldn’t let them. No way would he let them hurt any of his friends. He would do whatever it took to avoid them finding Logan and Patton.

And then that deathworlder turned their head in Roman’s direction. He almost felt like they could see him. But that wasn’t possible, right? Roman could barely see them and they were sitting next to a fire! He was in complete darkness over here. There was no way, was there? But those eyes were fixated on Roman. And they didn’t move from him either when the deathworlder rose to their terrifying full hight and took something from next to them. And then they started to walk towards Roman.

And Roman would deny till the end of his days that he flinched or whimpered or even pressed against the stone wall behind him as tight as he could in an attempt to fuse with it. If he would have, however, it would have been absolutely justified in this moment. After all a freaking deathworlder just took some ominous thing towards him in the dark and he wouldn’t even be able to put up a fight. He doubted even Logan would be calm in that instance. Patton might be able to hope the deathworlder was friendly because he wasn’t dead yet and because sylemn were naively trusting like that. But no one would be able to fight the absolute horror of imagining what would happen next.

Roman honestly tried to make peace with his life, when the human unexpectedly put something down in his very limited reach and took a step back. It looked like some sort of plant on top of a pice of wood, if Roman squinted real hard. What was he supposed to do with that? He looked back up to the deathworlder. They, in turn, froze still glaring at Roman. They opened and closed their mouth repeatedly, their face growing more angry by the second.

Okay, Roman, think! They had to want him to do something, but what? What? Did they want him to pick that thing up? Was that it? Slowly he started to reach out towards the wood and took it in his hand. Apparently that had been the right thing to do. At least the deathworlder had stoped with… whatever it was that they were doing before.

But what now? The deathworlder was still looking at him, observing him. What the hell did they want from Roman?! They then started to motion from the thing in his hands to his face and back. What?

Roman looked back down. Now that it was closer, he could see it better. That looked like it was some berries? Did the deathworlder want him to eat this? No. No, that wouldn’t make sense. Unless it was poisonous or something. In that case Roman probably shouldn’t eat this.

On the other hand, the deathworlder was pretty close to him right now. If they wanted, they would be able to kill him themself. Maybe they felt merciful and wanted him to die a less painful death through poison? And even if not, Roman didn’t really have much of a choice here, did he? The deathworlder sure looked angry already. So he took a deep, shuddering breath and took one of the berries in between his teeth. With another confirming glance at the deathworlder, he took it into his mouth and chewed.

Wait.

Hold up a second. These were olopests, just harmless berries that you could buy on almost every market. They were actually pretty tasty. Did the deathworlder think they were poisonous? Or maybe they had gotten the wrong ones?

Whatever it was, the deathworlder seemed to be satisfied with what Roman did. At least they moved their head up and down and walked away. He thought he saw them move out of the cave as well, though he couldn’t be sure about that. And the fire was still burning.

Roman took another deep breath, looking down onto the definitely eatable berries. What a shit day. And how much luck he had to have at the same time. Still: What the fucking hell was even happening right now?!

»Remus, you wouldn’t believe this. But you’d just love this mess, wouldn’t you?«, he bitterly chuckled inside his much too silent mind.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Whumptober Day 28: The Fury And The Hunted

Summary: Written for Whumptober Day 28. Set in my Httyd Zombie AU. The end of the world makes way for certain extremes, even religious ones. The Dragon Riders try not to mingle with any groups, but when one gets a hold of them, Hiccup won't have a good time.

Rating: Teen and Up

Characters: Hiccup

Pairing: None

Words: 3 588

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Hunting Season

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: Almost didn't post this one. But here it is.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy.

Ao3

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The Order of the Dragon, that is what the group calls themselves. They are a bunch of religious zealots who have formed shortly after Outbreak Day. They believe that dragons are "the true inheritors" of the world, that humans have been in their way for too long and that this is the reason why human civilization as they used to know it fell. As punishment for taking up space.

Before they met them, the Dragon Riders already saw signs of them. Things like "in fire, they'll rise" or "the world will burn and belong to them once more" written in large letters on brick walls or old, peeled-off billboards. There were surprisingly creepy effigies that were vaguely dragon-shaped. Large murals of what appeared to be the end of times where humanity died horrifically in a sea of flames while dragons flew into the light, into a better tomorrow.

It was unnerving to say the least and the Dragon Riders had decided to not seek these people out. But not running into them and getting into deep trouble would be hugely out of character for them, so that is exactly what ends up happening.

The location they are at is a jungle. Not one made of trees and green, but out of tall buildings and grey. This isn't their home turf, so when the Order caught wind of the Dragon Riders and decided they needed to have them, it was embarrassingly easy to capture them.

Hiccup finds himself thrown down a hole. They'd singled him out, because of course they have, and separated him and Toothless.

He doesn't know why and they didn't tell him what he's supposed to be doing here either. They just spouted some nonsense about Night Furies and proving yourself worthy in front of whatever or something or other. Hiccup didn't listen too closely, much too preoccupied with his group and not getting separated from his Bud before they threw him down here.

He's lucky to have a slope break his fall. Rolling the rest of the way down, over dirt and stones, only to then collide with the remains of a support beam was horrendous. His back is sure to bruise.

Now he's here, back on his feet and staring up at the night sky and not hearing or seeing his friends or the group that has captured them.

He hopes this won't end too badly for him and that his friends will be okay.

He turns away from the hole he'd come through and stares at what lies before him. Nothing but pitch-black darkness as far as the eye can see, which isn't very far at all.

This must be a basement of some sort. An underground parking lot? What little light the moonlight can give is reflected in the back shield window of a car. Other than that, he can make nothing out.

He can't go back up, it's much too high and too steep. So the only way left is forwards.

He goes to a knee and searches his prosthetic. It's been modified to hold certain items in case his pack ever goes missing and since it has been taken by Order, he has to fish a flashlight out of his fake leg.

He flicks it on and thinks of how hasn't changed the batteries in quite a while, hopefully, it'll last him for however long he's expected to be down here.

Taking a deep and nervous breath, he wills his feet to carry him forward.

There is little else to find in this place. Other than proof that his underground parking lot theory is right, judging by the cars he finds and the parking space painted on the ground.

There is the occasional dead body, but they are all too far gone to be of any real threat if they weren't quite as dead as they were supposed to be yet.

He passes them without giving them much thought, too used to the sight by now, and continues looking.

It's quiet in here and that unsettles him. Not that he's usually surrounded by heaps of noise, but everything is supposed to make a sound. Here, the dead are silent and the scuttling of rats is missing. Here, the only one making sound is him and that is concerning.

He comes to a standstill in the darkness, slowly waving his flashlight around to see if he can scan anything in his surroundings. But apart from another beam here and there, there is nothing.

His heart's pounding grows worse. He would be able to keep his cool a lot better if Toothless was here with him.

The silence stretches on and Hiccup isn't sure where to go. He's been walking in a straight line so far, he could continue that way until he hits a wall and then he can only go right or left. Whichever direction he takes is bound to give him one of two things. A general idea of how big this place is or a way out and both will only be beneficial for him.

So he continues on the way forward, walking the straight line until the first wall he hits. There is the brief thought that he should've done this back at the hole he'd been thrown into, where there were walls to follow on each side of him.

But he has eventually reached it, the other side of the parking lot. He halts and touches the cool surface as if relieved to have found it.

But then he notices something.

Pulling his hand back, he finds it is covered in soot. So this wall has been burned before. By a dragon, judging from the pattern. Hiccup backs away and lifts the flashlight to take a look. It is quite a sizeable scorch mark.

With this new development, he turns towards the body nearest to him and walks over, kneeling by it to find that it isn't one of the turned. This is someone who had been killed by something else and context clues would suggest by a dragon. Perhaps the same one responsible for the fire damage to the wall.

Is that what he's meant to do down here? Meet a dragon? Survive this dragon? Either way, something with the dragon that has made this place its home.

But what kind of species would make its home in such darkness? Not many prefer a den underground like this.

Feeling the pressure, Hiccup searches his limited dragon knowledge.

A Whispering Death? No, they usually prefer to make a home more north of the globe, he believes. And they dwell in hole they make themselves, too, a burrow made out of a complex system. This wouldn't do for them. Unless he simply had the luck to not stumble upon, or into, one of the many holes this species is known for.

The second species that comes to mind is the Night Fury. He remembers once meeting Toothless in a place just as dark. The scorch mark is similar to his Bud's.

Standing back up, Hiccup has to swallow a lump in his throat and his pulse, which had slowed during his walk, is quickening again.

A Whispering Death he can barely deal with, especially on his own, but a Night Fury? He has a feeling kind words, some fish, and compassion won't work on this one.

Hiccup forces himself to be hyper-aware of his surroundings. He's always alert, he has to be in order to survive, but he strains his hearing to try and pick up anything that he might've possibly missed.

Soft shuffling? The nearly undetectable movement of a predator sizing up its easy prey? Hiccup has made it so deliciously easy for it, standing in total darkness with the only light source around.

The fear must be obvious on his face. Though he tries to suppress it, he knows it's there as his eyes search the void surrounding him.

It's there somewhere. He doesn't need to see or hear it to know that it is. After being out here in the new wild, he has a sense for that, they all do. Night Furies are feared for a reason, too.

What should he do? Continue on and search for the way out? Maybe there's a staircase somewhere, something a fully grown dragon of this species will not easily fit into.

It would seem like he has no other choice. What other option would there be? The hole? He'd need wings to get out of there by himself. Or at least a rope with something to hook it onto the ground floor.

So he steels his shaky nerves as much as he is able and continues onward.

His footsteps are echoing uncomfortably loud in this deathly silence, his left prosthetic dragging just a tad bit. As he decides to go left, he swears he can feel a pair of eyes following him. His gut feeling tells him that he isn't simply imagining it.

Any moment now. He could be attacked at any moment and he has nothing to defend himself with. He has a tiny knife, but what good will that do against a dragon?

And what will it be? Torn to shreds? Ripped limb from limb? Blasted to pieces? Or will his fate not be as gentle or as swift?

He hates this. He hates this with every fiber of his being. He almost wants it to just happen already, to get it over with just so he won't have to suffer through this ever-building stress longer than he has to.

He's sweating, he can feel his clothes starting to stick to him, to his back and under his armpits especially. If that dragon can't already hear him, he can certainly smell him.

Finally, he reaches the exit, or rather, what should've been the exit.

It is hard to see at night, but a gate blocks his way out and it is locked with a sturdy padlock. If he had something to pick it, that wouldn't be a problem, but all of that is in his stolen backpack. The only ones carrying a multitude of lockpicks on their person itself would be the twins, Ruffnut in particular. So he's trapped.

He could try to find a way around it, if he has the time to. Hiccup swears he can feel the walls closing in on him.

He's trapped with a dragon possibly stalking him. If he doesn't manage a way around this lock, his only other option are the stairs and that is only if this parking lot even has them.

Taking a deep breath to calm his fraying nerves, Hiccup wants to stay here and work on this lock first, but before he can, he swears that there is something behind him.

In the process of pulling a tool from his prosthetic, he can feel the unnerving chill run down his spine and the hair on the back of his neck rise. He halts. Is that breathing that he hears? He's been paying extra attention and so he knows that wasn't there before.

It's waiting for him to turn and face it, it's waiting for him to run. His legs certainly want to, even though they feel like jelly.

But he wouldn't be standing here today if he wasn't good at pushing through his fear, he just has to push some more.

He gets back up to his feet and turns, shaking, holding the flashlight up and the face that stares back at him isn't his Bud's toothless smile. It is that of a ferocious predator staring at its next meal.

Its eyes blink in the light and it growls. To avoid angering it further, Hiccup decides to lower the beam.

"Dragons don't eat humans. Dragons don't eat humans." He tells himself, knowing well enough that there's a chance it can understand him.

He backs up, stumbling with his prosthetic, and the face moves along with him. It snarls and grows limbs as it treads into the beam of light claws scraping threateningly on the ground.

It is a Night Fury, but this isn't normal hunting behavior. He's seen Toothless hunt before and they don't do it like this. This one is almost ordering him to back up and all Hiccup can do is listen until he hits the gate, which rattles behind him.

Is that a sick sense of glee he sees appearing on the dragon's face? Who knew even dragons could have the occasional sadist?

With little elsewhere to go and nothing to defend himself with, Hiccup feels his Night Fury's name on the tip of his tongue, it is stuck in his throat to the point that he can barely breathe.

This is a much larger specimen, too. Most likely quite a bit older than Toothless, but age probably doesn't hinder it at all.

It's piercingly yellow eyes are glued to him. It's growling grows as it towers over him, intimidating him into cowering.

It then gestures to the side with its head and Hiccup realizes Toothless isn't the only one mimicking human behavior. And yet as fascinating as it is, it is ten times more terrifying as it's telling him to run.

"Run!" That face commands. It doesn't want meek prey, it wants to chase.

"Oh, fuck me." He doesn't swear often, barely at all, but when he does, it's with tears of terror blurring his vision.

An instinct to survive wants him to run, too, and he listens. Hoping that it's at least a little bit caught off guard, he springs into action, going for the right.

The Night Fury watches Hiccup go, disappearing in the darkness as he turns the flashlight off.

He's seen a car or two parked in this direction. He reaches it, hands on the dusty hull, and kneels.

He can't see anything without his flashlight and the worst part is that his predator still has ways of seeing him.

But it's not trying to lurk this time, he can hear its weight shifting where he once stood. It's not even in a hurry to follow him.

The car he's kneeling by groans under a heavy weight and that is the only hint he'll get to know that its standing over him. He's still trembling and struggles to draw air.

He lights his lighter, doesn't even dare look up, and spots his next hiding spot. Unfortunately, they'll exist solely out of cars and support beams. Fortunately, however, that this Night Fury wants this to be a game probably means he won't be immediately killed. Probably.

He kills the light before he moves away from the vehicle, diving under the next one. It won't give him as much safety as he would've liked, but it's something between him and it.

He wonders what he should do. Well, logically he knows he should calm down first as he won't be getting anywhere by panicking and acting on pure instinct alone. Here, he can take a moment.

It's not easy. He can hear the dragon circling the car, still not trying to be silent as it wants Hiccup to hear it prowl.

It's having the desired effect. He's trying really hard to stay calm, but hearing clawed paws scratching the ground in endless circles around him is making that very hard.

He takes deep breaths, in and out, in order to not give in to the dragon's tactic. He has to stay calm, he needs to remind himself of that. Only then can he think his way out of this.

What does he have at his disposal? That question is answered quickly as the answer is absolutely nothing. That flashlight, a knife, his pocket multitool? Does he have that? Checking his pocket, he comes to the relieving conclusion that it's still there. His most prized possession, they didn't take it from him. Not that they were smart enough to search his pockets.

Knowing that he has it with him sets him at ease a little and Hiccup lets out a calming breath. The Night Fury stalking him bangs on the hood of the car to rile him up and Hiccup jumps, but it's easier to will himself into a slightly more peaceful state of mind. As peaceful as one can be in this predicament.

These are the things he has and with these things he'll have to make a plan.

Luckily for him, one may already be forming.

When the Night Fury is on one side of the car, Hiccup rolls out from the other side. It hears him and steps over the vehicle with a roar of excitement. It was almost beginning to wonder if his newest prey was simply going to lie there and wait for death.

It wants to take a swipe at him, just to see how this one will react, but Hiccup turns to him, holds up his trusty flashlight, and flicks it on. The flash of the light will mean the dragon's eyesight needs at least a second to adjust. It has been blinded.

Hiccup runs back to the gate. He wants the dragon to blast it open for him, but he's going to have to do something to push the dragon that far. Risk his life pissing it off? It probably won't end well, but his options are dwindling quickly.

He doesn't have much dragon knowledge to fall back on either. Ever since meeting Toothless, he's been interested in learning more about dragons, but he already has so much to worry about, he doesn't have much time. The only knowledge he picks up on is the kind that helps him stay alive.

He's running completely blind on his way back, and he nearly stumbles over the corpse he found earlier. He can hear the Night Fury approach and he shines the flashlight right in its face again, blinding it once more.

The dragon already lets out an agitated snarl at just the second time and Hiccup figures that pissing it off won't be a problem. It's probably used to less levelheaded prey.

"Oh great, just like I wanted." Hiccup puffs and continues on his way to the gate. He sees it with a quick glimpse of the light and makes use of his good memory to remember where it is as he runs towards it.

He reaches it, hand grabbing hold of the gate locking him in and turns to blind the Night Fury again as its right behind him already.

It lets out an enraged cry as it's temper flares. It lashes out, but not with a blast like Hiccup had hoped, instead striking him with its claws and hitting his chest. Four deep lashes bleed through his shirts on his left breast. A cry leaves him and Hiccup falls to the ground.

Instead of finding himself frozen in place, Hiccup jumps back into action and backs away, flashing the light repeatedly to confuse the dragon on the distance between them.

It works, it's not immediately right on top of him again, and Hiccup struggles to his feet. The only reason why he's still moving after taking a hit such as that must be his will to live.

Free hand pressing fruitlessly down on his wounds, Hiccup wonders if he should give his plan a second try and just be better at dodging. That Night Fury is going to have to blast at him at some point, right?

He doesn't get a second chance. His predator has already learned that Hiccup might not be as fun as his previous prey and it's a sore loser.

Always an agile and fast dragon, it cuts Hiccup off and he knows only because he can hear it. It swipes for a second time and Hiccup is thrown to the ground, skull almost smashing against the concrete ground.

It hovers over him with a snarl and it hits him once more, flinging him back in the other direction, its claws getting caught and tearing through his clothing.

Hiccup climbs back up to his feet somehow, but it doesn't like that and it grabs hold of him to pull him back down. It roars in his face, it's a deafening sound.

Not knowing what else to do, Hiccup takes his knife and swipes back, cutting its lip and nose.

Far from a killing blow, that move enrages it and that's when it finally charges a blast.

Sadly, Hiccup isn't standing before the gate, is instead lying underneath the Fury's jaws.

Fortune is on his side as someone does blast the gate open and upon spotting the scene lit up with a lavender light, that someone cries out in outrage.

Hiccup looks over.

"Toothless!"

And he isn't the only one, the other Dragons follow swiftly. He's been saved.

The hostile Night Fury looks at the five new arrivals and feels threatened. Hookfang steps forward, lighting his hide on fire, and growls challengingly. He's warning it to back off.

Knowing that it's outnumbered, it does and retreats back towards the shadows. It is once again silent.

Toothless quickly approaches and frets over his Rider, but Hiccup doesn't let him, wrapping his arms around his Bud's neck and just savoring the feeling of being rescued.

"Oh, I'm so happy to see you, Bud." Hiccup tells him and Toothless sits, allowing him to have his hug. He can smell the blood on him, but knows that Fishlegs and the others can't be far behind them. He can take a look at Hiccup and then all will be well again.

[imaginesmai]

Tony Stark - Heartbeat

This was requested by an anon forever ago, I hope you like it! For this fic, reader has powers similar to Wanda, only that the ‘electicity’ usually burns what its touching. 

Plot: Tony has a heart attack, and you’re the only one around.

You loved Tony to death. His burning passion for everything he did. The dimples and wrinkles on his cheeks, when he was really happy. Even his self-sacrificing complex he kept on the back pocket for dangerous missions. 

You loved Tony to death, and that meant you noticed little things about him.

Tony flexed his left hand a lot. You had noticed that he did it more when he was tired or stressed, mostly when you found him at three in the morning still working on the lab. You usually took it as a sign to be a little more upbeat than usual, quietly steering Tony’s thoughts away from whatever was bothering him. Going out for ice-cream, to the cinema, or watching a movie at home.

Tony’s fingers curled and uncurled, his mouth set in a hard line. You didn’t point it out – you had learned the first time that mentioning it just made Tony quieter and more sullen – but you watched out of the corner of your eye. However, he still let you grip his hand when it got too bad, lacing your fingers together and kissing his knuckles, dragging him away from his workshop.

You started to get more worried when Tony raised his other hand to his chest, rubbing at it as if in pain. It was Saturday night, you were alone in the tower and you were sure that, if that had been something common or normal in Tony, you would have noticed earlier. 

You were finally going to bite the bullet and ask, knowing fully well that he might close into himself more, but FRIDAY beat you to it.

“Sir, you are exhibiting the early sings of-“

“Quiet, FRI” Tony sighed.

“Boss, it might be of your-“

“FRIDAY. Quiet”

The AI fell silent, and you hesitantly turned away, focusing back on the computer. Tony and you were trying to finish the last project before summer, when you could finally be free for a few weeks and enjoy the sand and beach in Malibu. He had been very excited about the vacations, and the sooner you finished the project, the sooner you could go.

“You okay, Tony?” you asked not looking at him, though wrinkles of worry appeared in your forehead.

He hummed in response, and you went back to the comfortable silence. You regretted it when, a minute later, you heard a groan and the distinct sound of someone collapsing to the floor. You whirled around, heart jumping to your throat as you saw Tony sprawled on the hard floor of the lab, his face slack and flushed.

“Tony!” you cried, your voice breaking as you rushed to your partner’s side. “Oh my – Tony!”

“Boss happens to be having a heart attack” FRIDAY informed, her accent thick as her words rushed together. “I’ve already alerted medical”

“I-I can’t breathe”

“What do I do? FRIDAY? H-hold on, Tony, just – FRIDAY?” you hiccupped, gripping frantically at Tony’s shoulders. Your hand made it to his forehead, where sweat was starting to show, and you ran a shaky finger over there. But Tony had dropped his eyes, and wasn’t breathing.

Tony wasn’t breathing.

“You will need to perform CPR”

You knew how to give CPR. It was one of the three badges you had earned when you were a teenager, in Girl Scouts, before you had bored yourself out. But the instructions were for normal people – people who hadn’t been on a terrible accident when they were eighteen, and couldn’t make things combust with red energy in seconds.

Your breathing started to pick up, because as much as Tony had tried to make you see that you weren’t a dangerous freak, but a beautiful human, you still feared what you could do when you lose control. And, by the corner of your eye, you could see things near you starting to float.

“I can’t” you gasped, nearly hyperventilating. “I could hurt him. What – what if I hurt him?”

“It is common for ribs to break during CPR”

“There’s a difference between broken and disintegrated!” you cried out. Tony was no longer a clear sight in front of you, tears in your eyes.

“He’s already dying, Mss Y/N” FRIDAY urged. For a AI, there was certain worry on his voice, and you swore she was judging you.

You whimpered, but you got in the position you remembered. The veins in your hands were glowing red, and you tried to will the power to get back into your body, not into Tony’s system.

“Now!” FRIDAY barked.

You thought of the tempo you were supposed to tick to – staying alive, staying alive, please for the love of all that is good, stay alive Tony – and started to push. At first, you did it with care, but as the desperation grow, so did your compressions.

You heard Tony’s rib snap on the third compression, and FRIDAY had to keep you from pressing his chest harder. His lips had become a disgusting shade of blue that you wanted to forget, open as if he was trying to call your name but couldn’t.

Tears blurring your vision, you resumed your task. It felt like you were barely pressing down, but with each downward thrust, you could almost feel Tony’s heart beat one more time. Once more. One more. You were panting around your sobs, crying so hard that you couldn’t draw in a real breath.

You broke another rib, and Tony’s veins started to glow.

“Sixty seconds until the medics arrive” FRIDAY encouraged.

And for sixty seconds, with tears dripping down your face and onto your hands, you kept Tony’s heart beating.

“Please, please, you can’t do this to me” you chanted with every push.

You could hear the med-team as the elevator ascended as it finally reached your floor.

“Tony, don’t you dare to die on me!” you cried out. “Please, don’t – leave me”

One more beat. One more. One more.

Someone knelt on the other side of Tony’s body. Hands fitted right next to your own. The person was pushing with you, in the same rhythm, ready to take over. Another set of hands tried to gently shove you away.

You knew you could stop now, yet your hands didn’t move. You just had to hold on until the medics arrived and they were there, but you were the only thing keeping Tony’s heart beating and you couldn’t stop because Tony would die.

“It’s okay, madam, we’ll take over now” the second medic said.

The good man took your wrists and pulled them away, not even commenting when Tony’s shirt came out slightly burned with hands shapes. The other doctor, a young man whose mouth was set in a determined line, kept up the CPR. You could count the beats of Tony’s heart, pumping one more time.

You backed up and sat with your knew pulled up to your chest, watching in numb horror as the EMT’s brought out the defibrillators and shocker Tony. They shoved him on a back board and onto the gurney they had brough, and ran him back into the elevator.

By then, most of the things in the lab were floating in the air, some of them burned and others on fire. You watched as a pile of paper dissolved to a pile of ashes, and the couch slowly acquired a black stain that would be hard to remove.

After the loud the scream that left your lips, all the things fell to the ground.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The doctors had come out and pulled Rhodey aside, because apparently, you were in no state of taking in those news. You had been siting in the same blue chair for hours then, Rhodey and occasionally Happy by your side, a comforting hand on your shoulder. Still, you could hear the whole conversation because they weren’t exactly being discreet; and you were awfully aware of everything that surrounded you.

They told him that there was little to be done. The damage from Afghanistan was too severe. He would be alright for now, but they had no way of knowing if and when another heart attack would happen. Rhodey had gone in a talked to Tony, who was awake and recovering, for a while, then came back and told you he wanted to see you.

Until then, you had refused the offer. You were too afraid to see the burns on his chest, the fearful look on his eyes, or the sour words on his tongue. Your stomach bunched up in nerves when Rhodey literally forced you up and threw you on Tony’s room.

As soon as you were at the threshold, you could hear Tony’s heart beating. It soothed you, if only a little. You took a deep breath and kept going.

“Hey gorgeous” Tony smiled.

You muttered a quick hello, cautiously sitting in the seat next to Tony’s bed. The chair was just as uncomfortable as the previous one, if not worst. You folded your hands on your lap when Tony made an attempt to touch them, and you watched as his smile fell.

“That was a surprisingly un-peppy hello” Tony observed mildly. “Sad I didn’t kick the bucket so you could get the inheritance as the willow?”

“That’s not funny” you snapped without thinking. Again, you moved your arms to cross them over your chair and slumped into the chair, scowling at the floor.

“Just trying to lighten the mood, Y/N” Tony held up one hand placatingly. “What do you say about a kiss to make it better?”

You didn’t say anything, neither attempted to move from your place. Just tightened your arms around yourself and kept looking at the ground. The steady beat of Tony’s heartbeat was the only thing preventing you from bolting out of the window in a fit of panic.

“Baby, come one, you’re… well, I was going to say you’re killing me, but that seems rather tactless given the situation” Tony continued.

Tears filled your eyes, and your lip quivered. It was hard, seeing the man you had learned to see a future with laying on the ground, not breathing and with his heart stopped. Even more, watching as his veins became red with your power and his ribs cracked under your fingers.

You risked a glance forwards, just to see his chest. It was covered by the gown he had been given, but you could make out the healing pads under it. Not daring to having Tony seeing you cry, you casted your eyes down once more.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Tony asked, but stopped as soon as he tried to sit up. A strangled gasp of pain escaping him, and you reached him to help him lay down.

The movement allowed you to see some of his veins black, darkened because of your powers running through them.  You flinched, unconsciously pushing yourself farther form Tony as if your mere proximity was hurting the man.

“Hey, hey, hey” Tony wheezed. “Just give me a second, don’t go. Please”

Teeth clenched so hard your jaw hurt, you stayed stock still while Tony got his breathing back under control. Then, he motioned you to come closer. He didn’t give you a choice when he seized your wrist and tugged you closer, forcing you to sit on the side of the hospital bed.

You held yourself stiffly, careful not to even bush against Tony. When Tony tried to shift your grip from your wrist to your hand, you pulled away.

“Y/N” Tony asked, sounding hurt. There was something about his brown, cute eyes, that made you want to spill everything. “Why won’t you touch me?”

“I don’t want to hurt you again” you finally whispered, bottom lip trembling as your vision blurred.

“What – because of the, the burns?” Tony blinked surprised. “I’m a mechanic, I’ve gotten enough burns on my own. They will heal, it’s okay”

You shook your head, and drew an uneven breath.

“I… could have killed you. I could feel it breaking into your skin, your t-shirt melting under my hands. And I was barely even pushing, but I broke two ribs and – and almost burnt you alive!” you paused, took another ragged breath, the next sentence spilling out before you could stop it. “And I know you told me to brace my powers. But, you’re not some random criminal I didn’t want to hurt. You’re… you’re my Tony”

The corner of Tony’s mouth quirked up, and he repeated the words slowly. He felt like his heart, from second time in less than 24 hours, was going to burst. Of love, of affection, admiration, and everything he felt for you. He loved you so much, the he would go through thousands heart attacks if it was for hearing you calling him ‘Your Tony’.

You sniffled, and Tony broke out of his daydream.

“Baby, look at me” you stared resolutely down, ad the pale blue blanket. “Come on, Y/N. Look at me, please”

Finally, you met his eyes, soft and full of love.

“You saved me” his voice was firm and honest. Unquestionable. “You saved me, thank you.”

“Don’t do that again” you commanded, your voice shakier than you would like. You swiped a hand across your face, banishing the last of your tears.

“Whatever you say” Tony agreed, smiling. He raised a hand as if to grasp your cheek, but he couldn’t quite reach without stretching his sensitive burned skin. He changed tactics, and pulled you to him from where he was gripping your wrist.

You moved slowly, afraid of hurting him, but he urged you closer with an impatient look. Tony made you lay on bed beside him, legs dangling over the bed because it was drastically small and face inches away from his. From there, you could see the wrinkles on his faces, the brightness of his eyes and the pure smile he was giving you.

Tony Stark was full of scars, from head to toe, starting from the shrapnel in his heart and finishing in the slight burn on his chest. And you loved each one of them.

“My Y/N” he pulled your hand towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles

.

“I-I can’t breath” & “Don’t you dare to die on me!” From my prompt list Angst

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[aroacemisha]

I had a pretty interesting dream, and I hope I'm not gonna forget it.

I don't know if the first part was the same dream or a separate one, but I'm gonna start with part two anyways.

At first I was just playing some version of FNaF on my phone, I think. It seemed to be FNaF 1, the menu screen was weird, but it was still Freddy on it, and for some reason there were already two stars there, as if I beat most of the game.

When I started playing, I ended up in Night 2 right away. The office was different, and for some reason, rather than seeing it on a screen, I was in the "office".

I don't remember if it became like that later on, but the "office" I remember was small, and was actually a train car. It was just one coupe, with doors on both sides, though strangely, I don't remember there being a table or a couch. I think I was just sitting on the floor.

Once the doors closed - or I closed them - the train, or just this one car, started moving. As I looked through the back window, I think I saw other trains on different railways. I took pictures on my phone too.

The train keeps moving, riding through some normal railways, and some weirder ones. We passed some normal-looking stations, but some were different, darker, I think. Thought there didn't seem to be any people even on the normal stations.

The railways were weird, with lots of strange turns and overlaps, but I eventually the train stopped. This is where the FNaF aspect of it comes back.

I don't get a call from Phone Guy, like it would've been in the games, or at least, it's not the same call. It's a little scary, as I'm not sure how this version of FNaF works, and I'm actually in it, rather than playing a game.

I think I closed the left door right away, remembering how Foxy works in the games. I didn't have any cameras though, so I had no way of knowing when he would come. I didn't know what was outside the car either, and I think it was dark there at first.

I don't think Foxy showed up at that point, though, so I may have opened the door. I don't quite remember, but I believe "Phone Guy" was explaining a little bit of the "game" to me. At least, there was a voice that sometimes talked out of nowhere, trying to give me advice.

Freddy didn't show up at all, not even at the end. It was just the other three. Surprisingly, Foxy was first to appear.

And strangely enough, he came from the right door. For some reason, I couldn't close it, so I had to run out of the "office" - train coupe, really - and loop around it to come back from the right side, as Foxy somewhat chased me. He was a little slow, but he looked different from the game, and he looked scarier.

When I came back, Foxy was waiting on the left side, and I think I managed to close the door on him. I don't remember exactly what happened afterwards.

But the right door was back. And then.. the left door broke. It fell off.

And when it did, I saw Foxy lying on the ground. From something Phone Guy/The Voice said a little later, it seems like Foxy ran out of battery. I think The Voice said something about Foxy being on 40-something percent later.

Now I had to deal with Bonnie and Chica, who looked different from the normal ones as well. I could not do it the conventional way, though, since one coupe door was broken.

When one of both of them showed up on the right, I simply closed the door on them. But when they showed up on the left, I had to go out the right side and try to lure them away.

I was hiding from them outside the coupe. It was lighter now. There was a lot of stuff lying around, including a long rectangle of things, lying in front of the train car.

I was running around that, and I was told by The Voice to especially avoid Chica. Something about how she "takes your soul quicker than others", or something of that sort. It was about souls, for sure.

I managed to run around a little bit, and close the right coupe door once, locking them out, though I was always looking back at the left door, worrying that one of them would come from there.

I think I eventually had to leave the coupe, and I was told to hide in the area. It seems like there was a bed nearby, as I curled up and hid under a white blanket. Weird choice, I know, I don't get why I thought that would work either.

I was found very quickly, but when they found me - I think it was the animatronics who did - while they pressed on my back a little bit with their hands, they let me go, and either they or The Voice told me to go find a better hiding spot. They gave me 40 seconds, if I remember correctly.

I ran around looking for a place to hide, and I think that's when the train car started moving again, and Bonnie and Chica seemed to gave just disappeared. The long and light rectangle that was in front of the train before either disappeared or turned out to be part of the train.

I got on the roof, and another person was there, a guy I think. He was trying to stand up at first, but I lied down, so I wouldn't get hit when the train goes into a tunnel. The guy seems to have just disappeared later, or maybe he just got off.

The train was longer now, seemingly a full train - or at least a chain of weird coupe cars, like the one I was in.

Once it came out of the tunnel, I saw quite a few people there. It was a train station, and I think there was an apartment complex? Or just a place people could live in? And if I recall correctly, only one person was an adult, the rest, I think, were teenagers. And I think they were all dressed up like princesses, or something along those lines.

I think there were multiple different places like that on the train's way. Camps, perhaps? Or was it a magical place for people to escape reality for a bit?

I got off the train's roof and walked around the place. I don't recall where exactly I went. But I remember a random girl crying and saying she doesn't want to go back home.

I think there was something about how she feels unloved by her parents? Something along those lines. But she was supposed to go back home, so someone was comforting her.

Either after that, or after the next paragraph, a bunch of people were leaving on the train, or perhaps a different train, and they were happily singing. I don't remember what song, exactly, but it sounded familiar. It could've been "Love Train".

Then I was involved in some fighting, though I was hiding in a corner, and I think I recall holding a heart-shaped locket in my hand. It could've been a different dream, though, I'm not sure.

I woke up soon after that. I'm not sure what this was, and what was the resolution. But I remembered it well enough. And this is yet another dream I have with trains.

[belladonnabear]

Hawks X Reader: Damn Cat

Scenario: Hawks gets turned into a cat and reader has to keep him safe while the other heroes try to find the criminals that did this. While you sort through your emotions about the Winged Hero.

Artist: https://kadeart.tumblr.com/

~~

Of all the things to wake you up, you had to get a call from your crushes assistant Jaehee about an emergency that needed your help. That would have been fine...if it wasn't three in the morning on your week off. What could Hawks possibly need with you?

Hawks was a hero at the start you didn't really care for. It was hard for you to understand how someone like him became one of the Top 3 Pro Heroes. You first met while fighting against a harpy like villain. Your quirk was known as illusions. You can create physical illusions that can be seen by everyone. You could even use it to disguise yourself. Your quirk is the whole reason Hawks became interested in you.

~~

You were in a tight match with the villain. She had the advantage being in the air so you couldn't get in a good enough hit on her. Suddenly, you could see the flicker of red feathers drop down like arrows onto the villain. Thankfully, you were able to avoid the feathers gracefully but frowned when you saw some of them damage a small bicycle. The villain crashed down below grumbling in pain. Hawks flown down and spoke faster than you could comprehend.

"Hey, could you please take care of this? I have a meeting I got to and I'm already late! Thanks a bunch!" he sputtered out.

He flew off with his feathers reattaching to his wings. You didn't even get a chance to say anything. Boy were the parents of the bike not happy with you and their daughter bawled her eyes out over her damaged bike. Even the police were giving you judgmental looks for being so reckless and it wasn't even your fault! Wanting to not upset the poor child any further, you offered the parents money for the bike so they could get her a new one. You ended up having to pay ¥ 21545 (200 USD) for the bike. Your wallet was completely empty after this.

After that you were infuriated with the Winged Hero. You were glad that he did help you take out the villain, but his reckless actions caused you to be harassed by the media for months. Not to mention your grocery money for the week! Not everyone is as rich and successful as him! You never wanted to meet that pompous jerk again.

You two however met again. You were out on top of a roof at night squaring up against two hitman. Both of them were disarmed thanks to your quirk and combat abilities. Eventually, both were knocked out as you searched them for weapons.

"Wow, that's one nifty ability you got there!"

Your face began twitching at the voice. With a fierce glare, you saw the Winged Hero land down with a smirk on his face. He looked rather impressed with you. He must have been watching the fight. But you didn't have time to deal with him. These two criminals needed to be handed over to the authorities.

"Buzz off pest!" you snapped.

He looked surprised as you picked up both men and began walking down the emergency fire escape. But the hero didn't stop pestering her.

"You need help carrying those two?" Hawks wondered.

"So you can make things worse for me again? As if! Go find some fangirls and bother them instead!" you scoffed.

He pouted as he realized you didn't like him for some reason. Wait...again? When did he ever make things worse for you? He tried recalling your face but then it suddenly clicked.

"Wait, you're the hero I met when that harpy attacked!" Hawks exclaimed.

"Now you remember?" you rolled your eyes as you finally made it down the alley.

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to introduce myself but I really was supposed to be in a meeting soon and was running late-!" Hawks began.

"Just shut up! I could care less about meeting you! Your reckless actions got me into a lot of trouble with the press and civilians alike! All because you weren't watching where those feathers of yours were going!" you shouted.

Hawks suddenly felt like a massive idiot. He wasn't paying attention that day. Honestly, his goal was to take down the villain as fast as he could and then get out of there. So his aim was off and she got blamed for it?

"Why didn't you just put the blame on me instead?" Hawks wondered.

"A heroes job is to help others no matter what. Not cause a media frenzy between two heroes. It was my responsibility to take down the villain but yours was to just get in and out. I lost over half of my paycheck that week because you destroyed a little girls bike and I paid her parents so she could get a new one. And even after two months, I'm still getting emails at my agency questioning why I got so careless when fighting. I'm lucky my boss didn't fire me on the spot! He's already hounding on me for not doing my job properly! Now I only have one more chance and if I slip up one more time, I'm unemployed! Now please leave me alone for good so I can do my job!" you scolded.

Now he felt like the worst person on planet Earth. She didn't want to cause drama so she took the blame for his mistake. And not only did it effect her work life but even her personal one as well. Plus her boss sounded like really ass for threatening to fire her. He did admire how she went out of her way to help the little girl get a new bike but from it sounded like it costed a lot of money to replace. While it wouldn't have been a problem for someone like him, he imagined that wasn't the case for her. Even the media was bothering her about it.

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Hawks wanted to respect her wishes but he felt like he had to make it up to her somehow. It was his fault after all.

The cops picked up the two men as Hawks slowly approached her. She eyed him suspiciously as he clapped his hands together.

"I'm really sorry about the mess I've caused you. I truly didn't mean it. Can I have your name please?" Hawks requested.

Your eyes glared at him but eventually you conceded. "My hero name is (H/N). My real name is (Y/N)."

His eyes sparkled. "Nice to meet you! I'm Hawks! Since you're having a hard time at your agency, why don't you try to come work for my agency? You have a fantastic ability and your combat skills are great! The pay is pretty good too! I could give you my number and we could talk about it some time!"

You were frozen in shock at his offer. One minute making your life hell and the next he's offering you a job at one of the best hero agencies in Japan.

~~

The two of you exchanged numbers and the rest was history. You quit working for your horrible boss and started working for Hawks. Despite his cocky nature the two of you surprisingly got along well. You became a lot nicer to him after he defended you from the media when they started questioning why the famous Hawks would accept such a brash hero.

But what could the emergency be that he needed you? You pulled up to the building and walking up to the building. Suddenly, Jaehee grabbed your wrist and began pulling down the hallway.

"Thank you for coming (H/N). I'm sorry to call you at such a time but Hawks requested that you come." Jaehee nodded.

"So what's the problem?" you asked.

"He was recently attacked by a villain group out to seek revenge. One of them managed to escape and used his quirk on Hawks." Jaehee answered.

"Is he hurt?" you sharply inquired.

"He's...fine but...well...it's easier if I just show you..." Jaehee muttered.

She opened up the door to the conference room and you walked in. On the table was a cream colored cat with golden eyes. His eyes were what you noticed first. They were the same shape and color that Hawks eyes were.

"Jaehee...are you trying to tell me...that Hawks was turned into a cat?" you slowly said.

Hawks mewed in delight as you noticed him. Jaehee face palmed and nodded.

"Yes, the villain has an animal changing quirk. We've accessed that by touching his victims, he's able to turn them into any kind of animal. We're lucky Hawks wasn't turned into a goldfish." Jaehee answered.

Hawks didn't seem to upset by the news. He hopped off the table and began rubbing up against your legs purring. Hesitantly, you scratched behind his ears and he mewled in content. Even going so far as to stand up on his hindlegs and grab your hand. You slowly picked him up and held him in your arms. Hawks buried his face into you purring loudly. You noticed his back had red markings that were shaped like the wings he used to have.

"So any ideas how to change him back?" you asked.

"Other heroes are looking out for the villain as we speak. His name and face are plastered all on the news. We just need someone to take care of Hawks while this is happening. Thankfully the media has no idea what has happened to him but we're too busy at the moment to take care of him. Since you're on vacation, we won't have to worry about taking care of him while we search for the culprit." Jaehee explained.

"So I'm Cat-Sitting him for vacation." you pouted.

"Believe me, I would rather be at the beach on vacation. But we need someone to keep an eye on him. He has his memories and human brain but he's developed some cat like behaviors as well. He was batting at the tassel on my purse earlier." Jaehee huffed.

So it looks like you were going to have your hands full this vacation.

~~

Hawks was in the passenger side of seat looking out. You never took Hawks to your home before. So he must have been curious as to where you lived. He ended up hissing at a dog who was in his owners car before he sped off.

Then you pulled into your garage that was in your small apartment complex. You picked up Hawks and walked up the stairs to your apartment. It was one floor with a kitchen combined with a living room. There was a side door that lead to the bathroom and your room which was over in the far corner.

Hawks leapt out of your arms and started sniffing around. Seemingly exploring the place curiously. He then jumped up on your couch and huffed. Guess he wasn't fond of it. You sat down on the couch and groaned into your hands. How did it get like this? Why were you babysitting kitty Hawks? When will he turn back? What if you embarrass yourself in front of him?

The feline didn't seem to care as he crawled into your lap and started taking a nap. However, it was cut short once you heard a knock on your front door. You got off the couch as Hawks slipped onto it. Looking through the peephole, you saw your neighbor Mineo. Opening the door you looked at Mineo curiously.

"What's up?" you wondered.

"I saw you pulling out of the driveway in a rush earlier! You okay?" Mineo wondered.

Mineo was a cop, so it was in his nature to be concerned about others safety.

"Yeah, just a call from work about some important changes. Can't speak too much though. Sorry I worried you Mineo." you apologized.

At your feet Hawks hissed at the strange man. His fur was fluffed up as he bared his sharp teeth.

"Since when did you have a cat?" he wondered.

"M-My friend is out of town and he asked me to look after him." you lied.

"What's his name?" Mineo asked.

"Hawks." you said without thinking.

"Your friend is a fan of heroes?" Mineo teased.

"Y-Yeah." you nodded.

"Sorry to bother you kitty. I just wanted to make sure my cute neighbor was safe." Mineo apologized.

Hawks hissed at him again as Mineo began walking away awkwardly. You shut the door and Hawks was still growling lowly.

"Why were you acting like that around him?" you asked.

For a moment you forgot he couldn't speak. Suddenly, you grabbed your tablet and brought it to the note app. Placing it down you began  asking Hawks.

"What's wrong?"

Hawks began typing with his paws.

I don't like him. He's way too friendly with you. Besides, what kind of neighbor checks on their neighbor at 5 in the morning and calls them cute?

You sighed and rubbed your temple. "Mineo has been crushing on me for about a year now. I've declined him when he asked me to be his girlfriend. So I'm not surprised that he's still trying to win me over."

Hawks hissed again and began typing away.

I still don't like him.

You laughed. "Yeah I get that. It's fine. I won't have much time to deal with him anyways. I've got a damn cat to look after."

Hawks calmed down after that and rubbed his head against your leg. You petted him and stood up.

"Let me make us some breakfast. You good with chicken?"

He chirped and followed you into the kitchen. You swear you see a small smile on his cat face.

~~ Spending time with Kitty Hawks was a lot more fun than you thought it would be. Hawks did come with you to the beach wearing a leash on his life jacket. Though it seemed he wasn't that fond of the water. But you did get a good photo of his wet cat self after a good swim.

Hawks was still showing signs of his cat like self. He couldn't stop staring at the birds outside your window and he even got a good laugh when he was high off catnip. The video on your phone was amazing.

Hawks actually slept in the same bed as you. At first it was annoying because you had a couch all for him but he declined and dashed off to your bed to sleep. He was too cute to deny so you allowed him to sleep in there.

There were times it was annoying though. Like he accidentally got chocolate pudding on him (which resulted in you trying to clean the kitchen as fast as you could) and you had to give him a bath. Hawks was snarling and grumbling the whole time.

You honestly though did miss hearing Hawks voice and seeing his human smile. Kitty Hawks was cute but you really wished you had regular Hawks back.

~~

You made it back from grocery shopping and saw Hawks on the counter licking himself clean. The tablet was there too. He greeted you with a meow as you scratched his ears.

"I got some chicken that you wanted. Hopefully, I can make the oyakodon as good as my mother used to." you began bringing out the ingredients.

Hawks made a mewing noise and tilted his head. You never mentioned your mother before.

"Oh...she died when I was seven. She used to be the pro hero Silver Scepter but she died trying to evacuate some civilians in an explosion accident. I was alone after that. My dad was around but...he's pretty horrible to be honest. Haven't spoken to him in three years. I plan on keeping it that way." you explained awkwardly.

Hawks began typing at the tablet.

Why did you decide to become a hero?

You thought for a moment before replying.

"My mom inspired me. She was always bright about the future ahead of her and how we all had the power to change the world if we just tried. When she died...I was questioning whether what she was saying was truly right. Especially since my dad started resenting hero life and said how it's all fruitless. But even after that....I still wanted to believe that she was right. Dad and I got into many arguments after that and he made me feel like shit for years. I moved out when I was 18. He told me that it's fine that I moved out but don't expect him to come to my funeral if I'm killed in action. That...really hurt. My moms words are what keep me moving forward. Even if....I'm sure what I'm doing is right." you stated.

You suddenly felt something soft rub against your back. You turned to see Hawks looking at you happily. As if to let you know that you weren't alone. He put his paws around your shoulders and began purring to try and comfort you. You slowly wrapped your arms around his feline body and began to pet him.

Talking about your feelings towards your father and opening up about your mother's death really felt like a heavy weight was lifted off of you. You felt comfortable letting your crush know about your life and he seemed pleased that you were opening up to him. It felt natural and blissful.

~~

It was late at night as you were sleeping in bed with Hawks there as well. He sure was a deep sleeper. You were on your phone texting with Jaehee, so far there's been no sign of the villain who turned Hawks into a cat. Which was unfortunate since you needed him in order to turn Hawks back into a human.

However, you thought you heard a creaking noise on the other side of the door. You slowly got out of bed and placed the blanket of the still sleeping Hawks. You could just feel that someone was on the other side of the door. You grabbed your switchblade and prepared your quirk in case it was a robber.

Opening the door swiftly you saw a fist try to land a blow to your face. Your illusion falls instead. You rushed forward, tackle the intruder, and takes out your switchblade and pin the man's right hand to his back. Hawks rushed out of the bedroom and growled at the man. You didn't know who he was but you had a feeling he was up to no good. Suddenly, another man came up and ran at Hawks. It was the same man who turned Hawks into a cat and was here to finish off the job.

Thinking quickly, you then push the intruder below you forward into the his accomplice. You scooped up Hawks and ran out the door to Mineo's place knocking on the door frantically. However, he didn't answer and there was no light. He wasn't back from his shift yet.

The two men came rushing out. You saw one of them had a gun. You quickly leaped over the balcony and into the first floor. However, your switchblade fell out of your hoodie pocket and was on the second floor. You ran with Hawks still in your arms. Panicking, now you had a defenseless Hawks as a cat and two armed crazy guys were going after you. Your cellphone was still charging on your dresser and you had no weapon to take them out. You had to defend Hawks and while trying to take those two out. First thing first, Hawks needed somewhere to hide. Your eyes caught the sight of a now dumpster and you apologized quietly.

"I'm sorry Hawks. I'll come back for you. Please be quiet." you quickly said.

You quietly picked up the lid as a now frantic Hawks tried to cling to you. Whether it was to avoid being stuck in the dumpster or he wanted to keep you safe wasn't a thought you had at the moment. His safety was too important.

You placed him down gently and closed the lid as quietly as you could. You were going to have to take those two men out next. And you'll have to do it with stealth. You quickly hopped up a tree and then leapt onto the roof trying to scan the area. You saw the two guys frantically look around for you. Guns still out as they're looking around restlessly. You prayed that none of your neighbors would come out for a midnight stroll or that Hawks would remain quiet where he is. You saw the two split up as you went for the one who was getting closer to the dumpster. He wasn't looking above so you decided to use that to your advantage.

A loose roof shingle would be a great distraction. You pulled it out and launched it far away. It hit a tree which caused the man to turn and look in the other direction.

"Who the fuck is there?!" he shouted.

You then ran and leapt down. Crashing down onto the man and knocking him out as his head went face first into the ground.

"Takao! You okay?!" the other man yelled.

You leapt up into the tree and kept yourself hidden. The other man gasped in shock as he saw his partner knocked out. He freaked out and began to sputter. "T-T-The hell?!"

His frantic behavior accidentally lead him to pull the trigger and he shot at a lamppost.

You had to take him out before he hurts someone. You created an illusion of yourself and the man quickly turned towards you. In that split second, while he fired another shot at your illusion, you shot down and gave him a quick roundhouse kick to the head. He slammed against the dumpster and was knocked out.

You quickly tied both men up as Mineo ran over asking. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"These two need to go to jail tonight. I'll explain everything in a moment. Keep an eye on them." you quickly said.

You ran over to the dumpster and opened the lid. In the blink of an eye, Hawks cat body clung onto you. He was mewling and clinging to the crook of your neck. He must have been really worried, especially after the gun shots went off. You quickly began petting his fur and whispered.

"It's okay. We're both fine."

~~

The two men were arrested and Hawks was eventually turned back into a human. You were given a lot of praise in the media for taking out the two men without getting much hurt and developed a fanbase after that.

Mineo's brother was the other culprit. He had started drinking with his brother and had gotten drunk. Mineo admitted that he liked you and wanted to win you over but you didn't seem interested. He mentioned how you seemed more interested in your pet cat named Hawks. Mineo's brother was associated with the man who turned Hawks into a cat. So he managed to get enough information about you while Mineo was drunk. Mineo even explained what the cat looked like and the two confirmed that it was the same kind of cat that Hawks was turned into. The two criminals were either going to kill both you and Hawks or try to kill Hawks while you were none the wiser.

Mineo felt terrible about the situation and felt like he didn't deserve someone like you. Someone who risked their life to keep others safe while he was the reason you were in danger. He hasn't flirted with you since. You were thrilled when Hawks was back and even gave him a friendly hug.

However, now you two would be going back to being friends. Just when you started enjoying his company, you two would have to keep your relationship professional and not personal. It hurt. But at least he was safe. Eventually, you were ordered to have a private meeting with Hawks about the incident.

"You were really stupid, you know?"

That was the first thing that came out of his mouth. You stood there in surprise at his blunt statement.

"Excuse me?" you asked.

"You could have gotten really hurt. Those guys had guns and you were unarmed. You should have just called the police instead of trying to take them out by yourself. Anything could have gone wrong. And....I was worried about you..." he admitted.

Your heart started beating faster. He wasn't trying to give you a lecture, he wanted you to be more careful. He was worried about your safety.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to make sure you would be safe and that no one else got hurt." you apologized.

"You could have gotten hurt." Hawks pointed out.

With that he grabbed your face with both of his hands and slammed his lips onto yours. Your heart soared as you took this opportunity to reciprocate his feelings. Your arms were locked around this as you two began making out in his office. His tongue twirling around yours and you left how smooth yet rough his lips were. He held onto you like he was afraid you would disappear.

Eventually, you pulled away as you whispered. "I'll do better next time."

Hawks smirked. "Don't worry about it too much. You did a pretty good job otherwise. Your mom would be proud of you."

You could feel tears well up in your eyes but you pushed them back nodding. "Right."

"Anyways, you wanna go out on a date with me this Saturday? There's this barbecue place with all kinds of chicken?" Hawks invited.

"All you can eat?" you teased.

"Of course!" he exclaimed.

"Sounds like a good first date you damn cat."

[greatloss]

𝚁𝙴𝙶𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  𝚁𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙳. . .

there are surprisingly few canon breadcrumbs left for us to pick apart concerning five’s dynamic in the household before he left,  more so his dynamic with reginald,  but there are some,  and they give at least a few insights to their general personality combination and what it might’ve looked like.     actually,  compared to the rest of his siblings,  five seems to have about the most in common with reginald personality - wise.     we know they both have a bit of an intellectual superiority complex and an ego in need of deflating,  a love of numbers and science and theoretics,  and propriety—     perhaps the most problematic of the bunch  ;  the insufferable need to be right in all things.     these similarities were never lost on five.

growing up,  he not only competed with his siblings,  but reginald as well.     in the moments leading directly to five’s time jump to the future,  he seems strangely unconcerned with displaying such blatant disrespect toward their dad.     unlike the way his siblings avoid eye contact with the man like the plague while at the same time vying for his good graces,  five seems to barely participate in the latter and absolutely none of the former   [  not to say he doesn’t long for a kind of approval from reginald,  but that’s a different post for a different day  ].     he doesn’t appear afraid of him,  or at least refuses to show it—   in fact,  he seemed more concerned with the implication that reginald thought him incapable,  or worse,  incompetent.     five sees his own father as intellectual competition,  accustomed to reginald speaking to them like they’re stupid while simultaneously expecting nothing short of genius.     the feeling of being told he can’t,  isn’t strong enough,  isn’t smart enough,  were the moments five loathed the most—     more than any grueling training exercises that’d leave him barely able to stand on his own two feet,  even see in a straight line.

and so he became quite the contrarian.     if reginald said he couldn’t do something,  five would do it,  or at least try,  damn if he failed,  because at least he wouldn’t be listening to the dumb old bastard.     proving reginald wrong in anything he said was a personal vendetta in every interaction—   petty,  perhaps,  but five was willing to grapple for any sense of power over the man who made him and all his siblings feel so powerless,  despite the fact that he adopted them in the first place specifically for how powerful they already were.     in fact,  this fearlessness to be constantly antagonistic is what builds such a sense of superiority weighed against both his siblings and his dad,  what he decides will make him stand out among the others.     he’s not going to be cowed by reginald like the rest,  and he sees that as a constant victory he can shoot for until he can finally prove the old man wrong in something,  preferably something big   [  this also makes him believe he should definitely be number one instead of luther lol  ].     and then,  five tried to prove him wrong about time travel.

as we learned in season two,  the phrase that taunted five for four decades in an isolated wasteland was   ‘  I TOLD YOU SO  ’,  ringing in his head to the sound of a reginald shaped bell.     i elaborated on his brief reconciliation with reginald here,  but i really do think those forty years hit him right where it’d hurt most regarding his father.     maybe if he screamed loud enough into the rubble that he was wrong,  reginald was right,  he won,  the man would hear it and finally come get him,  tell him it was all some sick exercise to teach him his place,  his naivete,  and five would never let his own pride and need to prove himself superior get in the way of reginald ever again,  he swears,  he’d never do it again if his dad just comes and gets him—   but this,  of course,  never happens.     when it doesn’t   [  no matter how much he tries,  how long,  how loud  ],     it’s easy to foster that resentment again,  fan it to hysterical degrees at times with the flames of an apocalypse still burning around him  ;  an event reginald insisted he and all his siblings could prevent,  and yet they’re dead,  he was wrong.     [  except,  all of them weren’t there to stop it,  were they ?  ]

but as it stands,  this culmination of endless suffering all began due to just one of his many moments of unwavering need to prove that he was right and reginald was wrong.     after four decades of complete isolation and surviving by the skin of his teeth,  anything reginald ever did to him,  called him,  even his siblings  ;  it simply paled in comparison.     he’d take it all back in a blink if it meant getting out of there and his family alive again.     so when he finds himself in the 1960s in need of stopping yet another apocalypse except this time reginald is there,  five sees an opportunity.     to right a wrong,  end a cycle,  because he can’t—   can’t—   make that same mistake again.     and so he resolves to listen.     quite quickly,  even naively,  the part of him that equated the avoidance of all his trauma and his family’s death to just listening to what his dad had to say thought it would actually be as simple as that.     that his dad’s complete solidity in everything he said,  his confidence and intellect that five had refused to concede to for the sake of his pride,  would actually pan out now that five wasn’t putting himself in the way,  that reginald did actually have all the answers—     to time travel,  to stopping the apocalypse,  to saving them.     except,  after decades of cultivating this paradigm,  years apart from him,  of days fighting tooth and nail to just be in the same room as the man for even a moment,  reginald calls him   [  five,  specifically  ]   aside to speak,  one on one,  and gives him. . .   nothing. 

absolutely nothing at all. 

and only then does five make a deal with the handler.

[thosequeenboys]

Finishing Up (Ben Hardy x Reader)

Summary:  You are an established meeting planner in LA fulfilling a list minute request to plan an event for top British actors.  Ben Hardy and you surprisingly connect, leading to a night of passion and pleasure.

A/N:  Benedict Cumberbatch makes a cameo cause it’s my party and I’ll combine fantasies if I want to. And he helps shape the dynamic between our two characters.

Warnings:  SMUT (over 18 please!): car touching, oral (m/f receiving), masturbation, hand job, praise kink run amok, dirty talk, age gap (f/10 years older), cursing

 “So, let me get this straight…” Your phone was nestled uncomfortably between your neck and shoulder as you filled up 2 creamy pages of your journal and wrote a ‘to do’ list complete with little boxes drawn next to each task.  “You have a delegation of 25 British actors coming to town this weekend for a meet and greet with directors and agents, followed by dinner.  Sure, I can do that.”  

And you could.  Events were your specialty and you thrived on a challenge. The more square boxes to check and miracles to pull off, the more you were in your element. You’d planned parachute jumps, choreographed light shows, delivered Russian caviar being held in a sea container in the Pacific to a restaurant in 2 hours – all for the likes of the political elite, corporate executives and celebrities.

What’s a bunch of Brits schmoozing with Hollywood elite in a hotel ballroom and dining in one of LA’s hippest restaurants?

As you ended the call, the celebrity list and other details came through in an email.  

Your business partner in crime, Shelley, sidled up to you.  “This sounds fun!” She too welcomed a challenge.  She eyed the list in your email.  “This is an eclectic group. “ She said, reading off the names, ending with “Benedict Cumberbatch,  Ben Hardy….” The names penetrated your brain with warm recognition but you weren’t focused on the guests yet, just all the boxes to check before they arrived to create memorable event. Shelley and you split the tasks, working your phones. As you typed an e-mail, you smiled with anticipation thinking of those names now swirling in your head.

You greeted the day of reckoning in a tight dress that hugged your curves and a dramatic chunky mixed-metal necklace draping your neck. Your legs were elongated by sheer stockings and heels. The guests arrived and a natural extrovert, you made the rounds, greeting the agents you knew, meeting others and making introductions.  

Sienna, an agent you knew well and liked very much, touched your back lightly. “Have you met Benedict?” She asked with a wink.

You looked up taking in the long jaw line and sparkling blue eyes as he extended a hand.  

“Hello.” He said, flashing that lovely, somewhat reserved smile.  “Benedict. Benedict Cumberbatch. Thanks so much for arranging this soiree!”  You shook his hand.

“SO nice to meet you.” You said.  “I must tell you The Imitation Game is one of my favorite movies.  Tells such important stories.  You captured the complexities of the characters and the period brilliantly.”  

Your compliment felt so lame and you felt like a dolt.  

“Thank you so much,” he said warmly.  “It is indeed a frequently unacknowledged part of WW II history -and gay history - and it felt good to get them into the mainstream. I’m impressed you know that history!”  

Hmm.. maybe that comment wasn’t so bad.  “Are you planning to stay in LA a bit?” As you listened to him describe his holiday plans with his family, you registered a darkly clad figure next to you.  

“Gosh, it’s been such a privilege meeting you, Benedict.  I hope you enjoy the rest of the event – and your holiday.”  Looking at him you realized he was your slightly older peer.  You extended your hand and you muzzled a gasp as he delivered a kiss to your cheek, squeezing your shoulders with his firm arms before pulling away.  “Thanks for your great planning!” he said.  Complimented and kissed by Benedict Cumberbatch.  Your work here was done, you thought with an internal laugh.  Not quite. As he pulled away Sienna took you from the moment, turning you gently toward another guest.

“This.” Sienna said with an ear-to-ear grin, “This is Ben Hardy.”  

“And THIS,” she gushed, leaning into Ben, “ is our spectacular meeting planner.”  

You took a moment to register the absolute beauty and grace before you, clad in black pants, a slightly see-through black shirt and an elegant black and brown tweed blazer.  The blonde wavy hair was gracefully brushed back, topping clear glowing skin and luminescent green eyes.

“Hi,’ Ben said, shyly, his eyes averting before turning back, the green irises sparkling radiantly at you.

You smiled warmly.  “Nice to meet you, Ben. Glad you joined us.”  

“Glad to be here.” He responded.

“Ben was in Bohemian Rhapsody and just wrapped 6 Underground.“ Sienna chimed in.  

“Ah, yes. I enjoyed Bohemian Rhapsody very much.’ You said, somewhat distractedly. You were finding it hard to look at him as heat spread throughout your body.  You pulled your phone from your bag and looked down, feigning urgency.  “Excuse me,” you said abruptly, “ I just noticed the time.  I need to get things ready for the presentations.”  You flashed a smile and turned gracefully on your toes and walked out of the ballroom toward the rest room.  When the bathroom door shut, you dampened a paper towel with water and gently blotted your face and the back of your neck.

The door opened and Shelley barged in.  “Are you ok? I saw you make a beeline here-thought you might be sick!! Gosh, You look downright flushed!” her voice arched in concern.

“Oh. My. God.”  Before continuing you walked bent over in front of the stalls checking for feet, your heels clicking along the marble floors.  The coast was fortunately clear.  “I…I…just met Ben Hardy. And I, Oh. God….He’s so ethereal.  I mean, gorgeous. Like, how does someone LOOK like that.  And he seems so sweet, kinda shy.   I…I just started burning up.  I could feel hormones cascading through my body-dopamine and serotonin neat with an estrogen chaser…AND the kicker is, before I met him I had a nice chat with Benedict Cumberbatch AND he KISSED AND HUGGED ME and THAT didn’t elicit this response!! BENEDICT FUCKING CUMBERBATCH!!!  What is happening to me??” You asked dramatically, partly to amuse yourself, partly serious and partly to entertain Shelley.

Shelley smirked and you could tell she was gearing up for some dirty banter - one of her many talents and one of the many reasons you loved her.  

“Ben Hardy, huh? Have you asked for some ID*?  He seriously could be jail bait.”

You smirked back.  “HARD-ly. Hmm.  Pun unintended.”

Shelly stepped toward you:   “Let’s play some Word Association:  I say Cock…..you say: HARD-Y.  Pun intended.”  

You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“Seriously.  Had NOT pegged you as a cougar.”  Shelly winked.

“Alright, we’re done here.” You said, tossing the towel and reclaiming your professional demeanor. “I got to get back out there to queue the speeches.” You felt the wave of hormones wash back to sea.

The attendees gathered as the speeches commenced.  Afterwards, everyone was ushered outside the hotel where limousines awaited to take guests to Auburn on Melrose for dinner.  After you ensured all guests were seated comfortably and chatted with the head server, you approached your table sliding into the one empty seat   Sensing a familiar figure, you glanced to your right, taking in the wonder of Ben Hardy. ‘Oh crap’ you thought, tempted to pull the seating list out of your bag, knowing he most certainly was not assigned to your table.  “Great to see you again,” Ben said, flashing his perfect smile, evoking an image of him as Roger Taylor.  You smiled back and your eyes scanned the room for Shelley.  You spotted her at a table to your left and locked glances.  She gave you a thumbs up and shit-eating grin. Sienna, your planned dining partner, gave you a wave, covering her mouth to obscure a laugh.   FUCK. You felt the warmth rising through your body-part annoyance at their prank, part lust, being close to Ben again.  You gulped some water, willing it away. The table conversation and wine flowed.  Ben was a smart and engaging conversationalist and you exchanged laughs and glances.  After dinner, you corralled guests to their limos and saw Ben lag behind talking with two others, as you approached the final waiting car.  

The driver motioned for Ben to enter first, and he slid across the long seat.  He motioned you next, followed by the two others.  The car took off down Melrose. Suddenly you saw bright light gaining speed to the right of the limo and without warning, a Jaguar screeched from the right lane in front of your limo which slowed urgently. Your driver lurched to the left lane, avoiding a rear end collision. “AHHHH” the entire backseat yelled, leaning into each other. You found yourself thrown to the left and leaning against Ben’s ribs, your hand pressed into his thigh just above his knee to keep you upright.  

The driver glanced back, as traffic slowed, “Everyone ok?”

“Yes,” came the responses, as your fellow passengers disengaged themselves from similar propping. You turned your head and your eyes locked with Ben’s.  You gently gave a squeeze to the sides of his knee to gain leverage and righted yourself.  Staring at him purposefully, you skimmed your fingers lightly up his thick thigh, easing your hand off and resting it next to your own thigh. His leg spread open toward you and your knees touched. You felt his warmth through your stockings. Other passengers chatted and you joined in with them.

Suddenly you felt his fingers jut into your hip and then coax your hand onto him again.  You looked at him quizzically, ensuring you weren’t misreading signals in your three-glasses-of-wine state.  His eyes locked with yours and a grin lit his face. You swallowed a gasp, suddenly aware you were being asked a question.  “Do you think the US Equity rules might change to allow reciprocity?” one of the passengers asked.

“Well, actually I know the union has been looking into this.”  You crisply shared some details from the article you had read recently, as you started to massage Ben’s inner thigh, heading north, ever so lightly to avoid attracting attention. You were peppered with more questions, which you answered without hesitation, as Ben squeezed his thighs around your hand, trying to create friction.

The topic was changed by another passenger.  “You must be glad the conference is almost over-then you can get some rest.”

“It’s been a pleasure,” you said sincerely, as you crossed your right leg, tilting slightly toward Ben. You stopped the thigh massage, loosening your hand from between his thighs and inched your nails up his right thigh.  His head sunk into the car seat and his eyes followed into the back of his head.

You continued, “There are just a few final touches to finish up, like swag bags, so everyone has great memories and leaves satisfied.”   Your nails took a turn to Ben’s crotch brushing his member with your finger pads and squeezing gently, hoping to feel his arousal.   Bingo.  You gave a final graze of your nails down his thigh before easing off as the bright lights of the hotel’s circular driveway lit the car.  You thanked the driver as Ben exited and you followed.

You leaned slightly toward his ear, “I’m in 1202 if you want to….”

“Finish up?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “So everyone leaves satisfied?” You smirked and proceeded into the hotel.

When you got to your room, you took a quick shower, reapplied some make-up, brushed your teeth and changed into leggings and a fitted lacey tank top.  

The knock on your door was timed perfectly.

He had changed into black jeans, a white round neck t-shirt and an open button-down shirt.   You motioned him inside and closed the door. You extended one arm over his shoulder and your other hand settled on his chest.

“You were such a good boy, being so still and quiet when I touched you in the car,” You said gently, as your hand released your hand from his shoulder, joining the other on his chest as you leaned into him.

“And YOU ….. carrying on that smart conversation while driving me out of my fucking mind. InCREDible.” He responded.  

“I’m a great multi-tasker,” You purred. He leaned in and kissed you hungrily as you wrapped your arms around each other, your mouths opening wider and your tongues exploring each other.   “Why don’t you let me take care of you, baby?” You asked tilting your head and rubbing your hands on his shirted chest.

“I ….yeah.” he said scanning you up and down.

You looked at him ensuring consent.  He swooped into you for an affirming kiss. 

“C’mon sweet boy.” You dragged your hand down his chest into his hand and squeezed it.

You eased him on to the bed. Sitting next to him you took off his shirts and gasped at his rippled muscular chest, the likes of which you had not seen on an actual man in your bed.  

“What a delicious appetizer before I get to the main course.” You noted.

“Really?” He asked seductively. He unbuttoned his pants, looking up at you. “Ok if I get comfortable? You nodded helping him out of his pants, his boxer briefs remaining.

“Back up, baby,” you cooed, and he shimmied himself back to the pillows. He bent his legs, planting his feet on the bed akimbo, inviting you in.  You eased yourself between his firm thighs and kissed his lips, moving to his earlobe and down his neck and chest.  You sucked one of his nipples, while you licked your thumb and index finger and then teased and rolled his other nipple between them. He moaned.  

“You like that sweet boy? You’re so sensitive.”  

“Yeah….” he said.  You outlined his pecs with your nails as you kissed his sternum, moving down the center of his chest.  You licked a figure eight along his six-pack and kissed down to the top of waistband of his boxers.

You hovered over his bulging cock in his boxer briefs, pressing your hands into his thighs. His eyes sparkled at you, wanting.  You wanted to drag it out a bit more.  You planted kisses along his thighs ending at the leg if his briefs, skirting his crotch. Finally you brushed a hand over his now-hard cock strained against his briefs.

“So hard and eager. You gonna be a good boy for me and let me suck you until you come?” You asked.

“OH FUCK.” Ben said, his eyes widening.  “YES!”

With that, you slid his underwear off, leaving him fully naked and erect before you. Kneeling before him your hands dug into his open thighs and you lifted them, holding them back erotically, giving you full access to his thick throbbing cock.  

“So good for me, Ben, so beautiful, so spread out for me….”

You couldn’t wait anymore. You slithered onto your stomach, still holding his thighs and started your oral choreography. Holding his firm thighs open, you licked from the base to the tip and positioning yourself over his member, licked around the shaft in circles, ending at the underside of his head. He was a moaning mess, thrusting up to get himself into your mouth.

“You ready for me to suck you now, good boy?”

“Please,” he said, as his hand made its way into your hair, the other gripping the sheet.

You took his head in your mouth, sucking him hard and swirling your tongue in a slow steady rhythm, taking more and more in with each suck.  You removed your right hand from his thigh to gently massage his balls as you quickened your pace. You felt his breath deepen and his moans intensify. Suddenly he touched your shoulders.

“Get up, get off,” he said, almost frantically.

You popped off him surprised.  He grabbed his cock and started to pull it quickly.

You were completely turned on by Ben touching himself, but confused by the turn of events.  

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You uttered.

“Say it!!” he said. “Talk to me.” You looked puzzled.  “I gotta hear you say it….tell me I’m ….

“Ah,” you thought.  

“Ben, you’re such a good boy for me. Let me touch you. I want to feel you cum hard through my fingers. You take me so well, baby,” you cooed as you touched his hand and he released it.  You took over, easing his wet cock into your hand, spreading his pre-cum. You jerked him quickly and steadily as he leaned back on his forearms. “Such a sweet, good boy, Ben…I want to make you feel so good…being so good for me.”

And with that, he moaned, thrusting and came over your fingers, some shooting onto his chest.  

“Was that good baby?” You asked.

“God, what a build, starting in the car…I just love hearing you talk dirty to me. InCREDible!!”  

Gosh you loved how he said incredible.  If this event taught you anything it’s that most things sound better with a British accent.

You gave him a kiss and wiped up his chest with a tissue on the nightstand. Afterwards you kissed down his luscious chest again and rested your head between his pecks, stretching out next to him.

“What about you?’ he asked, his arm caressing on your shoulder. “Did I get you wet?”

“Yes, baby….” Then you chuckled. “Well you ….and Benedict Cumberbatch.”

“That old Geezer?” Ben snarked.  

“Hey! Watch it!” you responded.

You both laughed.  “Actually, I like an older woman.  This older woman,” and he winked at you, continuing, “I heard your Heart Eyes-Fan Girl talk with him,” Ben said.

“Were you jealous?” you probed, semi-jokingly.

“Li’l bit.” He replied demurely with a slight smirk.

“Well, I am a real fan of his acting, but he doesn’t have this effect on me.”

“What effect is that?” Ben asked hopefully.

You quickly slid off your pants and panties and opened your legs in a diamond shape, your feet joined at the bottom of the diamond. You took Ben’s pointer finger and guided it from your hole to your clit.  You let your finger go, leaving your soft folds in his strong fingers as he continued to touch your heat, his thumb landing on clit with soft circles.

“Finger me, Ben.”

Ben slid his pointer finger into you and your tightened around him, moaning.  

“Such a good girl, tightening around me.  So wet…I gotta taste you….”

With that sentence, you gave it one minute, thirty seconds.  Tops.

“Oh God,” you said anticipating the quick build.  “Another finger” you moaned, and he obliged with his middle finger, curling both as he eased himself between your thighs, your feet planted widely apart on the bed.

“So tight for me” he said peering up at you.  “So wet. Your legs spread so wide.  Gosh, you’re so fucking flexible.”

Yoga was paying off in multiple ways, apparently.

He replaced his thumb with his tongue, licking your clit in circles with perfect pressure as he pressed his fingers into you.

“I’m close, Ben.  Lick me, faster.”

And, as predicted you cascaded over the waterfall, contractions tightening around his fingers as you thrusted into him, calling his name.  

He eased his ministrations, while kissing your thighs and then eased himself next to you.

“That was amazing.” You said.

“Indeed,” Ben said, as he stroked your hip tenderly. “Well, I’m glad you got to, um, finish up…”

You chuckled. “Me too,” delivering a kiss to his sternum.

You wrapped your arms around each other and drifted off to sleep.

 *This is a riff from Robin Williams’ Best Supporting Actor Oscar acceptance speech for Good Will Hunting in which he thanks his co-stars, Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, who were in their mid-20’s, telling them, “I still want to see some ID.”