#only the most powerful will make it through alive

[selfcarecap]

Cat & Dog [L.H.]

✧ Logan Howlett x kitty hybrid!reader

✧ summary: Logan rescues you, a kitty hybrid, on a mission and you become infatuated with him. (that’s all the plot you get, the rest is porn lol <3)

✧ warnings: smut 18+, unequal power dynamics bc Logan saves reader (and she’s a bit naive and inexperienced), kitty hybrid!reader (human with kitty ears, a tail, claws and kind of fangs and she purrs), reader’s first time, unprotected piv, oral sex, Logan teases reader a lot, slight daddy kink (like two mentions – still figuring out whether i like it for Logan), implied age gap, pet names (baby, bub, kid (not during sex), sweetheart, kitty — at first mockingly but then not), reader making biscuits on Logan w/ her claws lol, slight pain kink, Logan teaches reader about consent, uh i ignored that the reader’s probably gone through some trauma lool, Logan is indifferent to reader’s feelings for him at first but it changes, reader wears Logan’s hoodie; alternative summary that i thought was too cringe to use: Logan’s a nasty dog and you’re his pretty kitty. 

✧ word count: 5.2k

Logan Howlett is your saviour — the most handsome hero to ever exist.

He finds you on a mission, abandoned like the runt of the litter. The only reason he knows you’re still alive as he carefully approaches you, curled into a ball, is because his strengthened senses allow him to hear your dull heartbeat, and the matted tail at your lower back bristles when you hear him come closer.

“I’ll get you out of here, kid. You’re safe now,” he says, telling you his name and that he’s part of the X-Men. You turn slightly at the sound of one of his claws unsheathing, and watch him use it to pick the lock of the cage you’re being held in.

He opens the door and takes more steps backwards than necessary, “There you go.” 

You’d be able to dart straight past him and escape. You trust him. He smells different from the men that locked you in here, too. Sure, he smells a bit doggish, or like a wolf maybe, but he’s sweaty from fighting men to get to you so you’re not going to complain.

You slowly crawl through the cage door on all fours, feeling his eyes rake over your body. You don’t know why he’s staring – apart from your tail, and, sure, your ears, you have the body of a human – but you don’t mind it. You immediately feel warm in his presence. Everything is about to get better, all thanks to him.

He carries you in his arms when you’re too weak to even stand and you’ve never felt as peaceful and protected as when he holds you, and you cling to him with all the energy you have left. You can’t help but hiss when he puts you down in the seat next to him instead of in his lap to get you home.

-

It’s now been two weeks since you last saw Logan. He gave you his zip hoodie to keep you warm as soon as you got to the mansion and he didn’t leave your side until you were safely in the infirmary. You wish he never left.

They’re insisting on keeping you in here to heal, ignoring every time you ask for Logan. You feel healthy – they’ve even made your tail all pretty and fluffy again – so you take it upon yourself to find him.

You sneak out of the infirmary late at night, and all you have to do to find Logan is follow your senses.

Once you’ve located his room, you push the door open without any thought. He’s in bed but he’s still awake. The light on his nightstand casts a glow over the room and you smile when you finally see him again.

“What’re you doing here, kid?” he asks, sitting up slightly. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers, and you eye the muscles from his chest down to his abdomen, noticing the delicious layer of hair he has all over.

“Can’t sleep,” you take a step over the threshold, holding onto the door shyly.

Logan smiles, more to himself, “Was wondering when I’d see you again, bub.”

“Was waiting for you to come visit me,” you pout. You jut out your hip to one side, your tail curling upwards and peeking out behind your legs. You’re showing off. Last time he saw your tail, it was all tattered, but now it’s soft and bouncy again. You see Logan looking at it, smiling slightly, but he doesn’t compliment it like you hoped.

“We barely know each other. It’s nothing personal, kid. It was a standard mission. Anyone from our team could have got you first.” It stings that he doesn’t find your bond as special as you do, but you don’t mind if you have to do some convincing. He’s worth it.

“But we do know each other,” you close the door and make your way to his bed, “You saved me. I wouldn’t be alive without you. I just want to show you my appreciation.” You’re at the foot of his bed, crawling onto it on all fours. You’d never normally be this blunt but you can’t help yourself around him. Your need for him has taken over your entire being in the last two weeks. 

You watch him taking you in. Your movements are sensual and sleek – feline. You know he’s never been with someone like you, and you’re happy for him to take his time if he needs it. Perching on his bed, between his spread legs, you slowly unzip the hoodie of his that you’re still wearing.

His eyes follow the languid movement as you drag the zipper down, revealing your simple black top underneath. It clings to your skin in all the right places in the same way that your soft, tight, black shorts do.

“Looks good on you,” he nods towards the hoodie.

“Do you want me to keep it on?” You ask, but he shakes his head, smiling. 

“It’ll look better off.”

You unzip it fully, throwing it to the side of the bed. 

“Can I stay with you?” you lean over him. He’s about to open his mouth, and you have a feeling he’s going to tell you no.

“Please,” you cut him off.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he huffs, moving to give your ears a light scratch, “you can stay for a bit”. He’s intrigued enough to let you stay – you can hear it in his elevated heartbeat – and you don’t mind if curiosity is the only reason he’s keeping you with him for now. 

He paws at your fluffy ears, almost groping you, unsure how to treat you, but you haven’t been touched there in so long that it feels like heaven anyway.

“Who’s a good kitty?” he mocks as he gets the sweet spot behind your ear, but you don’t realise he’s teasing you, pushing your head further against his hand in bliss as you begin to purr. 

Logan isn’t sure how you’re making the noise, but it turns him on. He wants to hear more of it, “Well, don’t you sound pretty?” 

Your purring intensifies. You move down his body and settle over his legs, your head in his lap as his hand stays on your head. It’s then that Logan realises he’s already half-hard. The only reason he let you in was because he’s sexually intrigued by you, your cute demeanour and that fluffy tail somehow doing it for him. But he wasn’t planning on actually doing anything — not until now.

Your face is mere inches from his cock and he’s starting to ache to do something about it, getting harder. You’re still trying to find the most comfortable position as you rub your cheek across his lap like a little cat. You stop when you feel his erection.

“Are you hard?” you ask bluntly, eyes all wide. 

“I am, bub.”

“For me?” you purr quietly.

“All for you.” Logan tips his head to the side, waiting to see your reaction. He can tell that whatever you’re asking him next is taking you a bit more courage. He watches you gnaw on your lip all cutely.

“I’ve never seen a cock before…” you confess, and Logan stifles a laugh.

“Y’wanna?” He surprises himself when he says it. At first, he thought your affection was simply that of the saved towards her saviour, or familial maybe, but he’s not mad at this. 

Logan gets fully hard as you nod at him in such awe, your tail curling around his bare leg, and it’s even softer than it looks.

He pushes his boxers down just enough to pull out his cock, jerking himself off for just a few seconds to get some friction. You’re staring at it as you move your legs back, instinctively arching your back with your ass up. 

Your tail bobs behind you Logan can’t resist giving it a light tug, curling his finger around it. “Mmh,” you huff, pulling your tail away by instinct.

“Sorry, kitty,” he chuckles, “just wanted to feel it.” Your cheeks warm at his confession and you move your tail back in the direction of his hand so he can reach for it when he wants to. Your tail is your pride and you won’t let just anyone touch it – Logan’s the exception. He can gladly dominate you by tugging at your tail all day if he wants. 

He smiles as he touches your tail again, letting it glide through his fist from the bottom to the tip of your fur. “Such a pretty kitty,” he hums as he bites his lip. 

Hearing that he likes it pleases you more than you would’ve thought and you begin to purr again. You’re not exactly sure how to go down on a man, but you let your intuition guide you as you lower your face to press a wet kiss to the tip of Logan’s cock.

Suddenly, he’s pulling you back up by the scruff of your neck.

“Ah-ah. Manners, bub. You gotta ask first, you don’t know that?” Logan scolds.

His expression goes soft as you shake your head all sadly and apologetically, “‘S okay, kitty. I’ll teach you. Say please.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You look at him as you get back up on all fours, leaning close to his face. You want to kiss him so bad but you gather you’re not allowed to do that without asking either. 

“Please can I kiss you, daddy?” you ask.

Logan is surprised, not unpleasantly, at the word, “Where’d you get that from?” 

You shrug, and even that movement is fluid and smooth. “Just wanted to call you that. ‘S that okay?” You slur, head already clouded with pleasure and Logan.

He nods and places his hand back on your neck, pulling you towards him as your face reaches his in a searing kiss. He’s hungry for you, devouring you with his mouth and tongue and teeth immediately. His hand glides down your spine and to the side of your ass, grabbing you there. 

You purr against his lips as his other hand squeezes the flesh at your waist, and the vibration feels so good to him. You lower yourself against him so you’re chest to chest, and your belly rubs against his cock as some of his precum spills between you two, rubbing up against your skin and dripping onto his own abs.

Logan gently pulls you off, “Be a good girl and suck daddy’s dick now, alright?” You nod so adorably it makes his heart clench – you’re so eager to please him, all wide-eyed as you get between his legs, your ass up in the air.

On your way down, you give tiny licks to his skin; your tongue is all over his chest hair and his happy trail. Your tongue glides through his pubic hair, ignoring his throbbing cock, and you make your way to his thighs. He watches you lick through the dark hair there, and he realises what you’re doing. 

You’re acting like a cat, taking care of him. You’re bonding with him, and grooming him. He lets you do it some more, but it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore how hard he is, leaking precum. He slides a hand down to his dick, jerking off right next to your face.

“Mhh,” you pout, pushing his hand away with your head and giving him a cross look.

He smirks, “you gonna start sucking at some point then, baby?” It’s not that he doesn’t like you playing around but he’s getting desperate. He places a hand on your face to make you look at him.

“I don’t know how to.” Your cheeks are hot under his touch. 

Logan smiles, “Start with kisses. Or lick, like you’ve been doing.”

You nod and curl your tail around his knee, your hands to the sides of his hips. You press a wet kiss to the underside of his cock and Logan sighs in pleasure; you immediately want to hear more of it. You press quick kisses all over him, remembering what he said about using your tongue.

You begin to lick all over his dick, his balls too, until you’re drooling over him. But he’s stopped making pretty sounds and you’re not sure what you’re doing wrong. You hear a quiet chuckle from above you.

“Come up here,” Logan says. You sit up and straddle his waist. He takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth.

“Like this,” he tells you, taking one of your fingers between his lips. He wets it with his spit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue moving over your fingertip. You grin – you like the look of it. You like the way his cheeks hollow as he sucks on your finger, wishing your hands were as big as his.

As you move to push another finger past his lips, Logan takes your wrist. “Uh-uh. Your turn, kitty.” 

You pout but then feel his hard cock against your ass, your tail brushing it, and you get excited. 

“And none of those sharp teeth,” Logan tells you as you move down his body again. You bare your smile to him, letting your fangs retract. They’re a special part of you and you’re glad you could finally show them off to someone who deserves to see. Logan awards your little show with a grin. 

“Good girl.” Those words make you put your mouth on him immediately, swallowing him down your throat as deeply as you can. You pull away when you almost gag, heat spreading over your face, but Logan is unbothered.

You settle between his legs as you press a few more open-mouthed kisses to his cock with spit-slicked lips. You take the tip in your mouth, staying for a bit as you suck on it, spit dripping down his length and over your lips.

You start purring when you take him a little deeper, and Logan’s breath catches in his throat when you do, the vibration turning him on even more.

“Keep doing that,” he mumbles absent-mindedly, eyes on you but mind evidently gone. You smile around his cock, moving your mouth up and down as the spit begins to make a crude sound against your lips, but you like it. You’re feeling more and more of an urge to touch yourself between your legs, but you want to make Logan feel good first.

Your purring gets louder as you take him even deeper, and Logan lets out a sharp gasp. You pull your mouth off him, wondering if you’ve hurt him, sliding your tongue over your teeth to make sure the sharp fangs aren’t out.

Following Logan’s eyes, you see what you’ve done. Your claws have come out, and you’ve been scratching his thighs open. You feel tears prick your eyes as you bend down to lick over the wounds apologetically, wondering in awe as they heal up immediately.

“Don’t worry, just surprised me. You won’t hurt me.”

“Sorry, ‘s just how I show that I like you. Don’t wanna let you go”, you hang your head low in shame despite his words.

“It’s okay, kitty,” he lightly scratches at your ear, making you purr and forget all about hurting him, “Do your worst.”

You’re not sure if he’s teasing you. “Know they’re not as big as yours.”

Logan huffs, taking a hand away from you, pressing his elbow into the bed and his claws come shooting out. You only saw one of them briefly, when he saved you. They’re majestic up close and in all their glory, glinting against the low light. 

You reach out, “Pretty.” Logan smiles at your sparkling eyes, but retracts his claws before you can touch them.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

You give him the meanest look you can muster for not letting you touch, sinking your own, much tinier, claws into his abs to hurt him. But Logan lets out a soft moan instead, and you marvel at the pleasure he takes in the pain, forgetting all about why you’re mad at him.

Your eyes light up when you realise he likes you scratching him open. It’s a dream come true – someone who likes the way you show affection. You bite your lip as you scratch over his abs, his hips, and his thighs, watching as the wounds close up just before you draw blood. You hook your tiny claws into the flesh of his thighs as you wrap your lips around his cock again.

Logan lets out a string of moans as you have your claws in him and your mouth on him. You begin to purr, and with the way his cock flexes in your mouth you know he’s close.

“Just a little more for me, can you do that, baby?” he gently nudges your head down some more, and with the praise coming from his lips you can definitely take him – you feel like you could do anything.

“Yeah, just like that.” Logan’s voice gets shaky as you take his cock deeper, spit running down to his balls as you take almost all of him in your warm, wet mouth. 

You swallow everything Logan gives you as he cums in your mouth, shooting strings of his warm load down your throat. You don’t stop until he’s gently pulling you off him, and you look up at him.

“Again,” you plead, eyes wide, taking in how his cock is still hard.

Logan chuckles, “Don’t get used to the idea of that. Most men can’t go more than once.” 

You look at him strangely – what do other men matter to you? Before you can ask, Logan manhandles you into a different position, and you don’t notice until then that you’ve been grinding your clothed pussy against his knee, and you whine at the loss of contact.

You’re on your knees as Logan gets up to fully remove his boxers, and you see the skin at his knee glistening from where you’ve soaked it. The sight makes your cheeks heat up but also makes you press your thighs together.

He’s standing in front of you like a god, and you put a hand on his thigh to suck his cock again. Before your mouth can reach him, he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Your turn now, kitty.”

“Oh,” you say as he lies you on your back.

“Gonna play with you now. Can I take this off?” he’s holding the bottom of your top, and you nod as he pulls it off you. Logan gets on the bed again, taking in the sight of you half-naked. You’ve never felt so good about yourself. He looks as if he’s seen God herself.

“Look at you, kitty, so fucking pretty,” he whispers more to himself, touching and kissing you there as his knees sink into the mattress. You arch your back when he wraps his lips around your nipple, and the action makes your pussy rub up against him. He looks down between your thighs, pushing his mouth there.

You’re not wearing any underwear, so his face against your thin shorts makes you squirm. “Smell so good,” he breathes, rubbing his nose up against your clit. It makes you moan.

He begins to pull down your pants, stopping as they catch on your tail. The nurses cut a hole into the back of the material for it, and your cheeks glow when Logan carefully pulls your sensitive tail out of the way before he slides your shorts all the way down your legs, spreading them to get a look of you afterwards.

“Look at you, kitty. Prettiest kitty I’ve ever seen,” you miss his joke, placing your feet on Logan’s broad shoulders, as he says “Can I?”

You’re appalled that he even has to ask, pushing his head down between your legs. 

He begins to eat you like a man starved, moaning against your skin at the taste of your wet pussy. He doesn’t even tease you, licking through all your wetness, licking over your clit in circles.

Logan pushes two fingers in without any preparation, but you still feel too empty, grinding your hips against him. 

“I got you,” he promises, lapping up all of you, “Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He grabs one of your thighs, holding it so that you don’t squeeze his ears any more. Your knees are still pressing against his temples, but he doesn’t mind them there. He can feel you tremble when he licks and sucks and when he curls his fingers.

Logan has you cumming on his tongue quickly, sucking on your clit until you’re seeing stars, whining for him to stop. He pulls his lips off you, sitting up to push his fingers into your mouth.

“You taste good, huh?” he smirks as you suck your own arousal off him, humming around his fingers in agreement. He slowly fucks his fingers into you again, bringing them up to his own lips. He moves his hand between your legs again, fingers going over the hair above your pussy.

“You’re so soft here, kitty,” he says, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek against your pubic hair, making you giggle.

You’re still wet, and he’s still hard, and you don’t want to be too direct but you want to know when he’s finally going to fuck you. You tell him “I’ve never done this before either,” hoping he’ll catch what you’re getting at.

He places a kiss above your pussy, into the soft hair, smirking up at you and kneeling between your spread thighs, “I know. I’ll go slow.”

“Don’t want you to go slow,” you mumble, watching his eyes darken a bit.

“Don’t say that to me. Y’don’t know what you’re saying.” 

You don’t reply, smiling to yourself. He is big – very big – you remind yourself, but you still want him to be rough with you if that’s what he needs. You want him to use you. But maybe you should wait before you tell him that.

Logan wraps a hand around his cock, fucking his fist for a few moments before he leans down to rub the tip against your clit. You mewl at the sensation, ready for more.

“You sure?” he asks, head already beginning to push in.

“Yeah,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. Logan pushes himself halfway in, both of you moaning with pleasure. The stretch already stings, but you tell him you want more.

“So fucking tight for me, baby,” he grunts as he fucks into you deeper, bottoming out with an almost pathetic groan that makes you smile through the slight pain.

“You’re so big,” you moan, leaning your head back against his pillow.

“I know. Think you can take me?” he kisses up the side of your neck, hand sneaking between your bodies to play with your clit.

“Yes–yeah. I want you.”

“That’s a good kitty,” he whispers from above you, beginning to thrust into you slowly, rocking your whole body with his movement. He feels so big in your pussy, but you like the feeling of being stretched out for him. Even if it hurts, you want him to take what he needs.

It helps when your claws come out, scratching at his back to relieve some of the pain.

“Hurt me, baby. Hurt me as much as you need,” he moans into your ear, fucking into you at a bit of a rougher pace. You sink your claws into him, feeling how you draw tiny drops of blood from his big muscles, dragging your fingertips down his shoulders and over his big arms.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan moans against your mouth, kissing you sloppily, thrusts becoming messy, and you grunt in a mix of pain and pleasure that feels so good. He looks down at you, hips getting slower as he takes your tail in his hand.

“Does your tail hurt like this?” he asks, tugging at it lightly. You’re lying on your tail, technically, but it doesn’t hurt. You shake your head. Still, Logan tips your hips to the side a bit, lifting your thigh to fuck you sideways. But this way you can’t reach his back, and you don’t like not being able to squeeze around him with your thighs.

“Wanna sit on top,” you say, and he pulls away to look at you, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“You can’t take me like that yet, bub. Trust me.”

“M-mh,” you mumble, and with a bite to his lip Logan lifts his hands in defeat, slipping out of you and obeying you. He flips you around so that he’s on his back and you straddle him.

His dick looks bigger when you hold it in your hand, raising yourself to your knees to line him up with your pussy. Logan chuckles and you smile too, but you want to show him that you can take him.

You struggle to even get the angle right because you have to sit up so high, but when you’ve got the tip in your pussy, you just slowly lower yourself, hands leaning on Logan’s chest.

“Go slow, baby,” Logan says, suddenly gentle, seeing the pain on your features as he goes deeper. His fingers draw circles on your hips and on your ass, and he almost cums from the way you moan when he won’t fit in all the way in this position. He reaches out to rub at your fluffy ears, loving the way you lean into his touch, purring again.

“Sounds so pretty when you do that.” He’s less and less sure about the thing he said earlier, telling you not to get used to him, about you fucking other men. He’s not sure it’ll be relevant after all. He’s going to keep you all to himself.

“Hurts so bad,” you moan, pussy straining around him.

“Then stop. Y’don’t have to,” Logan coos, pulling you up by your hips but you take his hands off you.

“Don’t wanna stop. Wanna cum.” You grind your hips against Logan’s, his cock pulsing inside you. It drives him fucking crazy seeing you struggling to take him, fucking yourself stupid in his lap nevertheless.

He rubs his thumb over your clit, in circles to match the movement of your hips on him.

“Lo–Logan,” you moan, hands back on his chest as you start to fuck him again, your claws coming out against his chest to scratch him there, and he revels in it.

“Yeah, that’s it, kitty. Don’t stop,” he keeps playing with your clit, starting to become breathless himself as your pussy squeezes around his cock.

You cum with a whimper so animalistic it sets off his own orgasm, pulsing his cum into your pussy that clenches around him hard. Logan’s hand on your hip helps you grind on him as the pleasure spreads through your body and he’s grabbing at your flesh.

You come down from your highs together, a fucked out smile on your lips as you bend down to kiss Logan. He pulls you off his cock, not wanting you to hurt any more, but from the way you kiss him back lazily, hurt is the last thing you are.

“Did such a good job for me,” Logan tells you, holding onto your face, “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, “Didn’t mind it,” and you kiss him again, liking the way he devours you like a hungry animal every time his lips are on you.

As he’s kissing you fervently, with tongue and spit, you let your fangs come out, nicking his bottom lip carefully. He hisses into your mouth, and you draw two drops of blood – one for each tooth – before the wounds heal shut.

Logan grins, “Feisty kitty,” he squeezes you at the waist, making you giggle.

“See, you like pain and I like it too.”

Logan hums at your words, hand moving up to play with one of your ears. You move to lie down on your side, Logan turning to face you. You watch him.

“Can I stay?” you ask shyly, quietly, and he doesn’t understand the man he was only an hour ago. How could he not want you entirely? He hates that he made you feel unsure for even a second.

“Of course, bub. You’re staying with me from now on.” You purr at his words, cuddling into him. 

He puts his arm around you, holding you close as you begin to lick all over his face. He giggles as you make your way over his beard and his neck too, grooming him like a kitty. Your claws hook into the muscle of his arm and, as much as he enjoyed it during sex, this is definitely something he still has to get used to, gasping at the contact. The way you purr louder makes it more than worth it.

You’re pawing at his hair, smoothing it back into place from where you’ve messed it up. Logan closes his eyes from how good it feels. Suddenly, he hears you giggle.

“Your hair is kind of like kitty ears,” you grin.

He deadpans. “Don’t ever say that again.”

Your fluffy tail bounces up and sways a bit as you giggle mischievously. You pretend to zip your mouth shut but he knows he’s never hearing the end of that. Maybe he doesn’t even mind it coming from you.

“So, did you escape just to come see me or d’you get permission?” He asks, remembering how you’re probably not even supposed to be here. 

You panic for a second, beginning to sit up, but Logan holds you down, “I won’t tell anyone you’re here, kitty. Told you you’re staying with me. Would just be good to know if you’re making me break the rules.”

The way you smile at him sheepishly tells him everything he needs to know. He presses another kiss to your adorable face.

“You coulda told them you’re leaving. I’m sure they’ll be looking for you, bub,” he tells you. You turn around so that you’re spooning, with him at your back and your tail wrapped around his thigh.

“Hmpfh, don’t care,” you begin to purr, closing your eyes, “Just wanna be with my daddy.”

Logan wants the same. 

You don’t stop purring as you drift off to sleep, held safely in Logan’s arms.

-

P.S. Logan thinks that hot readers leave a reblog and a comment and let the writer know what they enjoyed about the fic <333 🫣🤭

[drbased]

ok I have to talk about 'the dialectic of sex' by shulamith firestone because it was one of the first proper feminist books I read and I didn't have the confidence back then to address this book:

so this is still the only book I've read so far that actually uses the words 'radical feminist' - except her definition of this politics is essentially transhumanist luxury space communism. because her understanding is that the 'root' of women's oppression is our reproductive capacity and therefore no matter what happens society will never fully be able to share the burden of childbirth and child-rearing across both sexes.

this book feels so evocative of its time - like there was a small window of pure hope shortly after the invention of the pill and the hippy movement where everything entirely changed for women. like, think about it: up until that point unless you use some sort of condom (which men don't like using - and also not 100% effective anyway) you're basically always vulnerable to being impregnated by a man during piv, which is considered the basic form of sexual intimacy wth men, which women are expected to engage in to be considered full members of society. so women would have all been in some sort of constant state of low-key fear; one sex - or rape - away from having a child that would change their entire existence. that's got to really fuck you up, especially your relationship with your own body. and you could get an abortion but only if you're incredibly lucky, and still getting an abortion is probably more like surviving a car crash than anything - like you're glad you made it through but also you're still damaged psychologically and probably physically as well. and it's such a silent fear as well - because women are supposed to want babies and babies just happen so you're not allowed to complain that this is because your husband always wants sex and he's the one who impregnates you but if he does people say 'she got herself pregnant again'. like there's layer upon layer of psychological terrorism surrounding men's impregnation of women and that's gotta mess you the hell up.

so the invention of the pill - holy shit, just imagine it. the hope. you can take the pill in secret, you can take the power back, you're not uniquely vulnerable to your own bodily forces anymore, that gives you time to fucking think, to be alive, to feel, to feel vulnerable, to feel free. it's like literal magic. if the most basic of happenings - pregnancy - can be actually prevented, then what else can we do to the body? what else can science do for us?? how more free can we get?? It's women's first time to (ironically) feel like a god, able to transcend the body. I'm actually surprised that I've not found more writings like shulamith's - that there weren't more women spurred on by this amazing discovery into further transhumanism. I guess the problem was that women were starting to notice that whilst women were able to change their own individual lives with the pill, that wasn't making men behave any differently.

but I still find it fascinating how this definition of radical feminism hasn't survived at all. as it stands on radblr, the 'root' of women's oppression is men, and therefore the only real solution is separatism. but like, what happened to the brand of feminism that says, uhhhh isn't it actually kinda fucked up that half the human race are burdened entirely with pregnancy, birth and child-rearing? and could we maybe be freed from that if we used science to bring about children another way? I'm not even agreeing with her that that would solve everything (because regardless even if we *could* make babies in a tube, that doesn't mean all women are going to magically become infertile, and it certainly doesn't mean than men are going to be less violent against us), but I'm very interested in questioning what the 'root' of women's oppression is - because modern 'radical feminism' has a lot of gaps to allow for a simplistic narrative that I'm sure many in the community, definitely myself included, are rapidly tiring of. and I think it shows in the separatism debate, which rages on because no one can think of any other solution, because the unspoken tenet is that what the 'root' is is solved and agreed-upon, and therefore the answer is just so damn obvious that the women who don't agree must be scared and stupid. I've been wanting to address this in some form or another for years now, and I guess I'm dipping my toes in it now.

at the very least, I'd like to know if someone has a good source on where the term 'radical feminism' came from and how its meaning has evolved over the years. in ariel levy's 'female chauvinist pigs' she touches on this debate that started in the late seventies that led to the fracturing of feminism and the creation of liberal feminism - and it seems to be along these same lines of separatism vs fucking men. I've always found it odd that there's essentially no middle ground here - like you don't need to embrace 'sluttiness' in order to want to have a healthy sexual relationship with a man, but it seems the liberal feminist side chose that, meanwhile the only other 'mainstream' option seems to be separatism. obviously a lot of the women in radblr don't actually fully agree with that - but all us hetties are suspiciously silent on that subject.

to me the issues with separatism go further than simply sex with men - sure it's psychologically good for you to only purchase from women owned businesses and only read books by women etc etc, and it financially uplifts other women. but also we live under capitalism, which obscures our reliance on each other. when you buy from that woman-owned business, the person delivering your package is likely to be male, the person who assembled the vehicle he drives is likely to be male, the person who constructed the roads he drives on is likely to be male. this is not to say that men are vital - but rather, your 'separatist choice' is a fundamentally capitalistic one that exists more for your peace of mind than being anything actually radical - as in, nothing about the 'root' of women's oppression is addressed in doing so. there's no ethical consumption under capitalism yadda yadda. and only speaking to women irl is also less of a capitalist action but still ultimately an individual one. there's so much emphasis on personal actions as the height of feminism and it screams liberal individualist to me. like you took 'the personal is political' and ran with it.

but if the root of the problem is men, then that's simple, isn't it? just don't interact with men. don't have sex with men. don't pay men, apart from the men who happen to be an inescapable part of the supply chain, they will inevitably get paid by your actions anyway, but you don't have to think about that because that's what capitalism does: it makes you think you have this magical power as an indvidual to make real radical choice in the world, to 'vote with your dollar'.

I'm not exactly calling for firebombing a walmart but I'm bored with the capitalism-loving individualistic liberalism of what this community calls 'radical feminism' - but that same thought-terminating cliche keeps getting thrown at us: 'we're radical, which means we grasp at the root, and the root is male violence, so you can't call yourself a radical feminist if you don't want to do the basic things of not wearing make-up and not fucking men'. and nobody ever seems to stop and question, does any of that actually address the root of our oppression? capitalism isn't the only economic system that has ever oppressed women, but it's the one we live under, and it's very good at sneaking into the backdrop of our lives and naturalising hierarchies - capitalism becomes its own justification, e.g. women choose low-paying jobs just because that's what we gravitate to, yanno?

being genuinely anti-capitalist recomplicates politics all over again, because suddenly it's not an easy men vs women but also men vs women vs rich people, some of whom are women??? and like, what's the solution to that? do we stand with men agains the capitalist system and risk our voices getting silenced, or do we go full single-issue and just go fuck it, capitalism was created by men for themselves like solanas said, so if we stand against men then idk capitalism will just sort of fall by itself? or in reality it's just not addressed at all. separatism itself always sits there as a thought-terminating cliche in and of itself - an accusation ready to be levelled at anyone who wants to question any of these unspoken tenets of radblr. and the goal-post is ever-shifting - separatism is women's land, but if you say that's not a real solution in our capitalist interconnected world then you get accused of not wanting women's spaces because that's obviously what separatism has been about this whole time. also separatism is not fucking men, actually it's not about that it's about prioritising women (vague), and on and on and on - the argument always shifts so the word stays pure. but like, is separatism an end-goal? a political tactic? something you do to enrich your own life and psyche? something to give space for consciousness-raising? I saw someone ages ago claim that the suffragettes wanting the right to vote was somehow separatist because idk, the women were making spaces for themselves? but wanting to involve yourself in male politics is literally assimilationist, no??

I'lm going to stop rambling for now but this was good to get my thoughts out there - I enjoy my theorising in this space but I'm also deeply interested in questioning. I've noticed time and time again that discourse is always stopped by 'you're not a real radical feminist if you do/don't do x' and I've found it really odd and telling that no one's questioned that? like sure I know we've built our whole political framework on 'words mean things' but also it's always worth questioning the definition of 'radical' and what the 'root' of our oppression is, and what we can actually do to address it, and if our narratives and assumptions are too simplistic. the community would be all the better for it imho. I already think the influx of 'tirfs' in the community and the khelif debate has been opening up these unspoken simplistic narratives on the nature of gender vs sex, of socialisation vs low-key biological essentialism, and I think we can push that kind of questioning even further. ramble over.

[hedonistpoet06]

What If The Storm Ends? - Part 1 Five Hargreeves x Female OC

'What if Five's time during that first apocalypse was slightly different, what if he wasn't alone for all those years?'

Synopsis: On April 1st 2019, the world ended. Icarus had indeed flown too close to the sun when Five Hargreeves pushed the limits of his power. The boy desperately yearned to use his powers to time travel and when he succeeded, he found himself trapped in the future apocalypse. Octavia Maddenfield had spent her whole life hiding her ability to shield and protect, only for it to save her when an asteroid collided into the earth, effectively wiping out all of humanity. The two teenagers are ecstatic to find that they are no longer alone in the apocalypse, however they must learn to navigate their newfound dynamic as Five tries to time travel back to the past and stop the end of the world from ever happening. Octavia is intrigued by the boy's sarcastic demeanour but also incredibly frustrated by his secretive nature, especially towards his past. And Five despises how easy Octavia can make him vulnerable, he tells himself that he cannot become invested in their obvious connection but something about her is so undeniably captivating.

Authors Note: This work is also available on my Wattpad under the users 'hedonistpoet04' and AO3 'heartofthehedonistpoet06' if you wish to read it there!

Word Count: 5099

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈 - 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐫̶𝐨̶𝐦̶𝐜̶𝐨̶𝐦̶ 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞

i. 𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Octavia Maddenfield met Five Hargreeves during the second spring of the apocalypse.

The young girl had surprised herself with how long she had kept herself alive during the end of the world before she found him. During those first two years Octavia tried to tally the days but it was often difficult to keep track of the passing of time.

It was just before midday and Octavia had left the safety of her base to scavenge the city for anything resourceful, mostly food since that was of the utmost importance for her survival. She climbed the endless wreckage of concrete, metal and broken glass for what felt like hours. Octavia had explored most of the outskirts of the city but this was the deepest she had ever searched into it. She hoisted herself up onto a particularly large piece of concrete until her movement was suddenly paused by the foreign sound of something moving, something alive.

Octavia immediately froze at the reverberation of the sound throughout the otherwise lifeless landscape. She then quickly hid behind a particularly large piece of debrief, shielding her silhouette before turning her head to pinpoint the source of the noise. Her heart thudded painfully in the cavern of her chest, she could practically hear its pounding resonance deep within her eardrums. Octavia found herself polarised by the sudden prospect of seeing another person, another human being who was alive and made of flesh and bone. Her heart's incessant beating stopped abruptly when she identified the clear figure of a boy who had to be no older than herself. His back was turned and his face was hidden but she was able to extract some of his key features.

The boy had dark brown hair which looked somewhat overgrown and a slender physique, both were probably attributed to the apocalypse. Octavia felt slightly at ease by the knowledge that the first human she had seen in two whole years was most likely around her own age, however, she was also terrified. She stiffened when she saw the large hunting rifle he had strapped to his back as he continued to burrow through the wreckage like a hungry marsupial.

Octavia couldn't help but grow jealous at how fortunate this stranger must have been to have come across a gun in this desolate wasteland, as she was forced to make do with the few knives she could find that weren't completely rusted.

He was muttering to himself whilst digging through the debris, as if he was intently looking for something. Octavia peeked her head out a bit further out to try and hear what he was saying only for the attempt to be futile. She felt an overwhelming surge of curiosity and adrenaline coursing through her body, encouraging the girl to get closer and decipher what exactly this boy was doing. Careful to not disrupt him, she slowly started to crawl on all fours until she reached a fallen pillar. Octavia decided that this was close enough and inched her head out to get a clearer look. The boy in question was still oblivious to her presence, he continued to mumble to himself and she noticed his demeanour grew irritable. He swore under his breath before throwing a chunk of rubble into the distance, as if that was going to alleviate his frustration.

Octavia flinched at his sudden action and instinctively sought refuge behind the pillar. Unfortunately the sound of her quick movement had caught his attention. She froze and clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle the small surprised gasp that was about to leave her lips. It was too late, the boy knew that she was here or he was at least aware that somebody was watching him. Octavia was painfully aware of the large, lethal rifle strapped to his back as she heard him load and cock it, preparing to shoot.

She was stuck in a rather complicated situation, she couldn't run in case he decided to shoot her and if she tried to jump out and defend her honour he'd probably also shoot her. She was trapped with nowhere to go, so Octavia did what she told herself was a last and final resort. She used her powers on him.

She swiftly emerged from her hiding spot behind the pillar and met the eyes of the boy in front of her. Although he was still a good few strides away from her, Octavia could see the bewilderment in his eyes at her appearance. However, the barrel of the gun was still pointed in her direction and this made her panic. Octavia quickly outstretched her hands and focused all of her energy on manifesting her powers. She drew all of her focus into conjuring a forcefield big enough to encase the boy in front of her. Soon, the familiar lilac light of Octavia's ability had erupted around him, encasing him in a small but sturdy forcefield. She watched as he lowered the gun and darted his head to examine the newly formed forcefield, obviously taken aback by the abrupt manifestation of her power.

"Don't you dare move!" Octavia called out. She tried her hardest not to sound intimidating, after all she did have the upper hand in this situation. Although, the girl's voice slightly faltered, intimidation bleeding through her attempt at assertion. The boy took a step back in his new confinement, as if he was analysing the sphere around him. His eyes then darted from the forcefield to her.

"I wasn't going to attack you!" He snapped back, although the pitch and the youth present in his voice made it sound rather half hearted.

A complicated pang resonated in Octavia's chest at the realisation that this was the first person she had seen in two entire years. She wasn't exactly sure how to respond to the situation at hand, should she laugh? Cry? Or maybe just focus on making it out of here alive without a bullet between her eyes.

"You were pointing a gun at me!" Octavia retorted, gesturing to the rifle.

"You snuck up on me!" He bickered back and she quickly became aware of just how young they both sounded, like true teenagers quarrelling with each other.

"You have a gun!" She reiterated.

"You trapped me in a bubble!" The boy exclaimed before he demanded to be let go "get me out of this thing!"

"It's not a bubble!" Octavia countered, slightly offended at his belittling choice of words, "Besides, how do I know you're not going to hurt me?" she interrogated him further, eyeing the rifle in his hands.

"Okay, no gun. See? I'm not going to shoot you." He quickly shuffled the weapon to its original spot on his back and put his hands up as if he were surrendering.

"Not now you certainly aren't." She said, clearly referring to the forcefield around him. "Struggling is pointless by the way." Octavia tried her hardest to sound cocky.

The boy's eyes shot Octavia a withering glare, he saw straight through the facade of her confidence. "Yeah, obviously," he muttered back, trying to tug against the force field only to no avail.

He gives one more useless tug before he stops, scoffing. "Can you get this thing off of me?" The boy huffed, his irritation only growing.

Octavia had actually considered letting him out, a part of her youthful naivety believed that he was harmless enough but she was brought back to reality by the weapon that he carried and the fact that he was a total stranger.

"Only if you can promise me two things." She finally said, lowering her hands slightly but kept the forcefield maintained. She watched as the boy raised a brow at the bargain, clearly somewhat puzzled. He looks her up and down again, still eyeing her warily and Octavia suddenly felt extremely self conscious, like he was trying to dissect her with his eyes, which he was.

Five was still slightly disorientated by the purple light which surrounded him. A small part of him was impressed at the supernatural ability this girl obtained, the other part of him was pissed that he couldn't use his own to spatial jump out of her stupid bubble.

"And what exactly is that?" His voice was filled with dry amusement as she noticed him slowly but smugly cross his arms behind the lilac force field.

"Firstly, you'll tell me who you are..." Octavia started to speak as she looked him up and down again, examining to see if he had any other hidden weapons on him "and secondly, you have to promise not to kill me." Her cheeks slightly flush in annoyance as she sees him let out a chuckle at the girl's request, as if he found it humorous.

"Five," He announced matter of factly. "My name's Five," he glanced up at the force field again. "And I promise not to kill you," he responded with a bit of a scoff, in disbelief at the absurdity of his own words.

"Like the number?" Octavia raised her brow in surprise as she was genuinely taken aback by the absurdity of his name. The numerical nature of the boy's name was certainly not what she was expecting.

The boy, now renowned as Five exhaled a frustrated breath before pinching the skin between his brows. "Yes, like the number," he responds with a monotonous voice, like he's answered that question one too many times before.

"You only promised me two questions for my freedom, so let me out!" He said, growing increasingly more infuriated. Although Octavia had an abundance of questions regarding the peculiar name she subdued her curiosity into the back of her mind as she remembered their bargain.

"Right, sorry." She quickly muttered an apology and focused her energy on levitating the boy through the forcefield, hovering him just above the ground and moving him closer to where she stood. A perk of Octavia's unique ability was being able to control the contents inside her forcefields, including making them float. She watched in amusement as Five looked absolutely perplexed at his sudden levitation, his eyes flickered between his feet and back up at Octavia.

"What the hell—" he muttered, startled at the lack of ground underneath him. Octavia closed her eyes and focused her effort into deactivating the force field, slowly but surely the lilac light began to melt away. She watched as Five fell to the ground in a not so graceful manner, his sense of balance obviously disrupted by the sudden air trip.

"Crap! Sorry-" Octavia grimaced at the sound and started to move towards him to help him back to his feet but she held herself back. He's stunned, trying to re-ground himself for a moment before shooting an annoyed look up at her and she can't help but feel slightly guilty.

"Could've tried to make that a bit more graceful." Five huffed out, somewhat breathless from the abrupt descent to the ground.

Octavia watched as he stood up and dusted off his oversized black jacket. Five was now only a few feet away from her and this granted Octavia the opportunity to get a good look at his appearance. As much as Octavia was reluctant to admit it to herself, he was undoubtedly the most beautiful boy she had ever seen. Even when all things at the end of the world were considered, he was most certainly not that unfortunate looking. Five was definitely not in the cleanest state, neither was Octavia as their personal appearances were the last of their concerns when it came to their respective survival.

Octavia never considered boys her age to be cute or even somewhat appealing, her only understanding of what made a boy attractive were the boy band posters on the wall of her childhood bedroom. But something about Five was so endearing to her, from his slender cheekbones, to his green eyes or the way his messy, outgrown hair slightly covered his eyes. Maybe it was the fact that he was the first boy she had seen in two years or perhaps it was just the subconscious desperation from being alone for so long. As Five stood a few steps away from Octavia she was able to discern that he was hardly taller than herself, maybe a few inches give or take.

Five had never taken a particular interest in girls, especially before the events of the apocalypse. He respected them of course, he had two sisters after all, Allison and Vanya. Despite the fact that they could often get on his nerves, he admired his sisters, although not to the same degree as Luther who habitually made heart eyes at Allison across the dinner table. Five didn't understand the appeal of them as he watched Luther practically drool like a puppy over his adopted sister. Perhaps the boy's mind was too preoccupied with other more important things such as mastering his ability to time travel through his spatial jumps.

But when Five's eyes first laid themselves on Octavia up close he felt an unfamiliar sense of intrigue consume him. The boy was quick to disregard it as natural curiosity in response to seeing another human being after the considerable amount of time he spent alone.

Octavia didn't look like any girl Five had known before. She looked like what you'd expect from someone who had survived the apocalypse this long. Her skin and clothes were dirtied. A slightly beaten, oversized green cargo jacket covered most of her young yet malnourished physique. Her ashy blonde hair was pulled back into two braids that hung next to her neck and effectively kept it out of her face.

What surprised Five the most about her however, was the way her lips had suddenly curled into a laugh, a bubbly girlish laugh which was unlike anything Five had ever heard before.

"I really am sorry!" She spoke between a gentle laugh which made Five's ears flush under the aviator helmet he wore.

"I haven't exactly mastered the whole 'levitating your captors' trick yet." She continued.

"Yeah, I'd say you don't quite have it down yet," Five responds with a scoff, raising a brow as he looks at her hands which she was unknowingly flexing and contracting. This was a common mannerism of Octavia's which occurred after she manifested her powers, it was a way to release the built up energy that resided in her palms once she conjured a forcefield.

"How did you do that...?" Five asked, his voice more docile now. There was no residue of impertinence, his question was sincere.

"The 'bubble' thing?" Octavia replied playfully, recycling his little insult from earlier.

"Yeah." He said dryly.

"I've always been able to do it, ever since I can remember." She replied honestly.

"When's your birthday?" Five asked suddenly, the question puzzled Octavia immensely as she tried to determine the relevance of his question. Five however was stunned by the occurrence of finding someone else with a supernatural ability outside of his siblings. As the boy eyed her appearance he realised that she had to be no older that himself, unless she had coincidentally time travelled to the future, which he highly doubted, this girl must have been born years after October 1st, 1989. "Why? Do you want to know my star sign?" Octavia teased, she tried to find the humour in his abrupt and seemingly random question.

"Answer me damn it, when were you born?!" His voice was stern and Octavia was even more confused by his bizarre infatuation with her birthday.

"Jesus fine! It's June 20th 2007." She caved just to shut him up.

"Shit..." Five muttered to himself, almost in disbelief. There was no conceivable way that Octavia could have been one of the forty three supernatural children which Five himself was a part of. She was technically born eighteen years before him, so the chance of meeting someone who also had supernatural abilities was next to impossible, or so he believed.

"So you were... you were young when this all happened, huh?" He spoke up, trying to swiftly redirect the conversation.

"Yeah. I was twelve." Octavia confirmed and Five is painfully quiet, his eyes still examining her with an intense precision like that of a scientist, "What about you?" she asked softly.

"Thirteen." He admitted.

"Only a year older, huh?" Octavia concluded, and Five mentally winced at the complicated situation. Hypothetically yes, he was only one year older than the girl in front of him, however, he was also born almost two decades before her. This was such a mind fuck for Five.

"I guess you could say that." Five shrugged, trying to deflect the possibility of this conversation going any further.

"So you're fifteen?" Clearly his attempt didn't work.

"Correct. Which makes you fourteen now?" Five indulged her.

"Also correct." Octavia shot back and Five had to bite back a small smirk at her sharpness.

"You know, you interrogated me about my name so I think it's only fair that I ask yours." Five figured that he might as-well be polite and ask the name of the bubble conjuring girl who both mildly irritated and intrigued him.

"Octavia." She declared and Five felt his stomach tighten at each syllable that left her mouth. It was an uncommon name, Five certainly couldn't talk when it cam to abstract names but something about Octavia sounded so eloquent, almost old fashioned even. Although he didn't see much of the future as he jumped forward in time he assumed that it was defiantly not a common baby name for someone born in 2007.

"I would say it's a pleasure to meet you Octavia, but these aren't exactly the most pleasurable of circumstances." He said, the formality and authenticity of his voice made Octavia avert her gaze from his own, almost shyly.

"It certainly isn't..." She agreed.

There was a prominent silence between them until Octavia spoke up.

"Sorry for trapping you by the way. I should have known you weren't a fan of bubbles." Five was caught off guard by her genuine apology.

He then replayed the past few minutes in an attempt to put it into perspective, and in all fairness, he was the one with the hunting rifle strapped to him.

However, as Five thought to himself a mischievous idea weaved its way into his mind. He was ready to even the playing field between them.

"It's fine, those were just your flight or fight instincts. Like how mine would be something like this if you didn't trap me first..." ​​Before Octavia could even respond to Five's cryptic response, he suddenly erupted into blue light before her.

He shifts in a split second. Instead of being several feet in front of her he was now only mere inches away. Five looked rather satisfied with himself, a cheshire grin dripping from his face as he watched Octavia's face morph from shock to that of confusion.

"Holy shit!" The girl jumped back in sudden surprise at his sudden manifestation. She stumbled backwards onto her rear, she hit the rubble covered ground and watched as Five let out a small but genuine laugh at her reaction. The boy had missed the dramatic reactions of surprise which he gained from people whenever he used his power. He took a small step closer as he stands over her, looking down with a dry smirk.

"Not feeling so intimidating now, are you?" Octavia watched in disbelief as he extended a hand out to help her up off of her ass. She takes it gratefully although she should have been mad at his little prank, she was fascinated by his own supernatural ability. Five lifted her back to her feet and was slightly stunned at the feeling of another humans skin gracing his own.

Although Five wore a battered pair of fingerless gloves he could feel Octavia's skin against his own, she was warm to his touch. He noticed the way her fingers clasped around his as he helped her to her feet. He admired the callouses which she had evidently earned from surviving this long by herself.

"So you're like me?" She asked and Five retracted his hand, the lingering feeling of her skin on his was plaguing him still despite the loss of contact.

"More or less." He said bluntly, not wishing to elaborate more.

"Wow, sorry." Octavia said shakily, still trying to process everything. "I'm just a little shocked, my whole life my parents told me that I wasn't like other kids and that nobody could know about my ability. But here you are..."

"Alive and breathing," Five said smugly.

"Wait. if you can teleport... Why didn't you just teleport out of my force field?" She asked, smirking slightly as she watched Five roll his eyes.

"You didn't think I tried that, smart ass? It seems you have complete control of the energy in your little bubble, including that of your captors, meaning I was rendered powerless." he retorted "and I don't teleport, that's such an amateur word for something so technical! I prefer to call it spatial jumps, it's the precise manipulation and calculation of spatiotemporal boundaries which I can manoeuvre to get from point A to B-"

"Wow. Nerd alert." Octavia can't help but scoff in amusement at his scientific explanation of his powers. She then proceeded to laugh even harder at the way his eyes squinted in irritation at her reaction.

"You little shit..." He replied at her display of immaturity.

"So, Five, how have you made it this far?" Octavia felt his anger brewing and quickly changed the topic of conversation and gestured to him, referring to his well equipped getup.

He crossed his arms over his chest and gave a small shrug, turning his gaze back to her.

"I just... did," He responds, unbothered with providing anything more.

"I just did." Octavia mocked his ambiguous response, changing the pitch of her voice to sound more serious and stoic, like Five. She felt his eyes glare daggers at hers in response to the childlike mimicry.

He stepped forward now, looking even more annoyed than before. Nobody had tested Five like this, not since his youth when his siblings were still around.

"Watch it." He warned in his typical dry tone which Octavia was starting to grow acquainted with the more he spoke.

As Five stepped forward Octavia quickly manifested her power again, a rectangular shield emerged just in front of the boy as he began to walk towards her.

"Or what?" She said as he walked straight into the shield. The scene before her had reminded Octavia of those embarrassing moments when you would accidentally walk straight into a glass sliding door.

"Oof-" Five grunted as he walked face-first into the force field, nearly toppling backward at the unexpected collision. He stumbled backwards several steps, rubbing the centre of his face where he just collided right into her shield. He looked back at Octavia, a somewhat annoyed but less menacing glare was painted in his green eyes.

"That wasn't funny." He mumbled through gritted teeth.

"Oh come on, that was pretty funny to me." Octavia deactivated the forcefield and she held her stomach as a deep genuine laugh left her lips. It was probably the hardest Octavia had ever laughed during her whole two years of being stuck in the apocalypse alone.

She didn't notice it then but Five's expression had softened for a fraction of a second as she laughed, the reverberation of her voice had filled the otherwise barren space.

And there it was again, that disgustingly unrecognisable feeling that consumed the deepest pits of Five's stomach.

Her laughter had stood out the most to Five, stunning him slightly although he would never admit it in that moment. Octavia's voice was bright and melodic, it didn't irritate him in the same way that Klaus's laughter had when he stole from Allisons wardrobe and proceeded to be chased by her through the mansion, taunting Allison with her favourite skirt. But now, the apocalypse for himself had been characterised by the sound of despair, from the burning debris to the deafening silence.

Octavia's laughter juxtaposed everything else desolate and decrepit which he had become accustomed to hearing after all this time. It was so full of life.

Five then understood why people often referred to others' laughs as being infectious. Octavia's laughter had ignited something, this unfamiliar warmth and queasiness started in his abdomen and soon expanded out into his bones and through to his skin. He felt it everywhere and he hated it. Was this just a symptom of the adrenaline? it had to be.

Five quickly broke away from his thoughts and returned to his traditional, irritated demeanor.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" He asked, taking another step towards her again. A small part of him knew he'd probably walk into another force field again, but he was a little too mad to care right now.

"Hey, give me a break. You're the first person I've seen in how long... like what... two years?" Octavia asked, her laughter subsiding and Five finally felt like he could somewhat relax.

"Have you been by yourself for two years?" Five was curious at her revelation, eager to know if she too had spent the last two years in solitude.

"Yeah. Since day one." Octavia explained. Five noticed a distant look which painted her eyes as if she was recalling the first day she had realised she was alone in this concrete hells-cape.

"And you've made it this far?" Five asked softly and he mentally cringed at how patronising he sounded, he didn't mean for his question to sound that why. The truth was Five was incredibly impressed that she had endured two whole years by herself, finding enough food, water, shelter and even fighting off sickness.

Surviving an apocalypse was no easy feat, Five knew that all too well.

"What? Do you not think that me and my bubbles could have lasted this long?" Five was silent for a moment. Of course he didn't think that, in actuality her power would be incredibly resourceful for the conditions the both of them found themselves in. Five struggled to articulate a defensive statement to her teasing but Octavia spoke up again before he could formulate anything worth saying.

"Do you have a group or something?" She asked and Five subconsciously thanked her for changing the topic.

"No. I'm alone." He admitted.

"Well, I guess that makes two of us." Octavia crossed her arms over her chest before she spoke again, "Your powers.. Are they the reason you survived the initial impact too?"

"Yes." Five looked down at the ground as he answered. He wasn't technically lying, he had survived the destructive impact of whatever ended the world because he had spatial jumped too far into the future. That could theoretically be interpreted as him using his powers to survive the mass extinction of all of humanity, right?

He just simply twisted the truth, that's all. Besides, there was no way Octavia would know if he was lying or not.

"You're a boy of few words, Cinco." She retorted and Five shot his gaze back up towards her.

"God- please don't call me that." Five groaned. The nickname not only irritated him but it was the very title his brother, Diego used to call him and hearing it fall from Octavia's lips was painfully nostalgic.

"Can you blame me?" Octavia shrugged and Five clicked his tongue.

"So... what were you doing out here?" She asked, gesturing to the mountain of concrete behind him.

"Looking for food, what else?" Five explained, his voice straightforward and apathetic.

"Fair enough, we all have to eat. Although I don't think you're gonna find much in that pile of concrete." Octavia wasn't judging the boy for his attempt at searching for resources, more so where he was looking. The landscape before them was nothing but grey desolate rubble.

"Well, I can't exactly afford to be picky, can I?" Five rationalised.

"Touché." She said in an approving tone.

Five didn't exactly know how he should continue the conversation as an elongated silence is exchanged between the two of them. Octavia tried to look anywhere but Five's piercing green gaze as the absence of noise consumed them. Although Octavia had been weary to the boy as a potential threat, she couldn't find it in herself to depart from him so quickly. As for Five, he couldn't extract or define the unknown inquisitiveness that overwhelmed his thoughts. He was standing before another living, breathing human and he couldn't quite believe it, these weren't the rotting bodies he had found buried under the remnants of the city.

Five did not want to depart from her presence so quickly, and he hated it.

"Hey.. I have some baked beans I found not too long ago, you're more than welcome to have some. If you want, that is?" Octavia offered and Five had to replay her voice in his head to ensure what he was hearing was correct.

"You're seriously willing to share your food with me during the apocalypse?" He pointed to himself, his head tilted in disbelief. Was this girl actually offering her own food to him despite trapping him in a bubble only mere moments ago?

"Look, do you want food or not?" Five panicked at her question, like she was threatening to take away the prospect of food so quickly.

"Yes." He said sharply, not caring how desperate he sounded in that second. However, Five felt his face begin to grow warm again when Octavia let out a small giggle at his eagerness.

He despised how easily she could get under his skin.

"Okay, just promise not to murder me on our walk back to mine?" She began to adjust the backpack she had resting on her shoulders and Five took that as the cue that they were leaving.

"If I wanted you to, you would be dead already." Five said proudly. Although his words were grim they carried a weight of truth to them, he probably could have killed Octavia instantly once she freed him from her bubble, but why would he want to do that? Not when he had been alone for so long already.

Even if Octavia was incredibly infuriating there was something about her wit and charm that Five found slightly familiar, somewhat comforting even.

"That's reassuring." She said sarcastically.

"I promise I won't try anything. Cross my heart" Five said, sounding so sincere that it was almost jarring to Octavia.

"Hope to die?" She asked warningly. Five raised a brow at her childish question that he believed to only exist on the school yard.

"You're hilarious. But yeah, cross my heart, I won't kill you. I promise." He shoved his hands in his pockets as they began to walk with Octavia leading the way.

"Watch out, I might just have to bubble you again if you try anything." Octavia held out her hands playfully mimicking how she would manifest her powers. Five rolled his eyes and subdued a small smirk that formed on his face.

"Hey, I always keep my word!" He was almost offended at her skepticism, however he didn't blame her, they were still strangers.

"I'm holding you to it, Five." She replied, looking back to face Five, throwing him a small smile.

[doctorguilty]

It's a shame the tome didn't explore any of Danny's playful side but I'm inclined to think, in the same way that confidence and precision are traits of ghostface and not so much Danny, the playfulness is a trait that belongs to ghostface. in a strange way, I think ghostface takes himself.. less super seriously? It's really clear Danny considers ghostface essentially his own person, and that's why when he like went apeshit murdering the newspaper dudes he was like, ghostface wouldn't do this I'm framing you instead, he cares SO much about his personas image, more than his own, I feel like Danny, being such a bitter misanthrope, probably wouldn't allow himself a lot of silliness. I think that would make him feel vulnerable, you know? He could probably fake it if the situation called for it, just like how he fakes his personality at work as like being a fine professional gentleman. But left to his own devices he's just so traumatized and walled up. It even gives me an impression ghostface would be significantly less bothered by the whole parody thing. Like when Danny saw the newspaper when he was about to kill that guy and it like threw him completely out of his headspace? I think ghostface is everything Danny wants to be, and like, is somewhere inside but can't see that person when he looks in the mirror, he sees it when he looks at the mask. I think he loves the entity's realm because he gets to be ghostface nonstop and never has to be Danny, infinite escape from his own feelings. Fucked up if true. But it means he gets to nonstop have fun hence the selfies and such, like he's always playing, it's always his roleplay, his artistic vision, entertainment. In fact his serial killer sona was an invention to cope with trauma and soothe it,like, literally, that is why he became a murderer, as a maladaptive coping mechanism, and makes a lot of sense he'd make that sona a better version of himself as strange as that sounds, better being subjective to him like obviously killing people is bad but TO HIM he genuinely thinks he's doing the world a favor and to him, out of all the inspiration he takes from his idols and such, the perfect concept of who should carry that out, is a stronger person than he is. And he's literally just larping that.