#temp0rt5l

Burnt hair, burnt skin, burnt cotton and wool. The sharp, metallic stench of burnt ozone. She sits with her back to Five's body and her knees pulled to her chest. Her tears have painted trails in the black, sooty residue coating her cheeks and her shoulders shake with silent sobs, but she can't cry anymore.

Sitting here is useless, a waste of valuable time. Her legs refuse to let her stand. A terrible sound halfway between a wet cough and a hiccup leaves her throat. She brushes her nose with the back of her hand, and casts a desperate glance around the rubble and wreckage. There has to be a safe space somewhere. She can't leave him here. He deserves a proper burial. When she's prepared to look at him again, she'll take his jacket—a memento and a means of preserving her modesty. Practical. Good. It's good to have a plan.

Lost in despair and sorrow and self-pity, she doesn't register the slow, struggling movements behind her. It's only when he begins to speak that she scrambles to face him. His labored words are a lead balloon that steals what shallow breath she has.

"I never asked you to save me—I asked you to stay."

Bloodshot coal eyes widen in alarm. Confusion. She's been touched in the head. Or he has. She can't be hearing him right. She doesn't dare ask him to repeat it. "You idiot." Several seconds of stunned silence pass before she can speak anything else. "You didn't have to ask." It takes all the restraint she has to keep her voice level and calm. "If you think I could sit idly and let you die, you never knew me at all."

Her lower lip wobbles. She very nearly vibrates with nervous energy. Right now, more than anything, she wants to throw her arms around him and feel his pulse with her own. She's pretty sure he doesn't want that.

"CPR wasn't enough. I panicked. It would take too long to find help. I thought I could—" Her eyes trail from her hands to his chest to his face. "I've jumpstarted plenty of cars, but never a...person." Her expression crumples. "I tried, I really tried. I was so scared, Five. I thought I gave you too much. That you were toast. I tried to pull back, absorb the energy, but it was too late. I thought I killed you."

Small, fluttering gasps burble past her lips as the closest thing she can muster to laughter. She looks toward the sky. "Turns out I'm Victor-fucking-Frankenstein." Once the wheezing dies off, her gaze falls to meet Five once more. "And because I'm such an angel, I'm not even going to say you owe me. It's not like you asked for this." She sniffs, manages a faint smile. "Ungrateful brat. Until I'm gone, you do, unfortunately, have to live."

@temp0rt5l

It's been a long few years. Between the first apoclaypse, the time travel, the dimension jumping, and now having to learn to be an actual person? She's fucking exhausted.

Evident from the way she nods off at almost every available opportunity. It had been the sofa this time, curled up into the cushions in the corner as the radio droned on in the background. The room is warm and cozy and it had taken hardly any time at all for her mind to drift gently off into unconsciousness.

It's just a shame that unconsciousness isn't more enjoyable.

Char startles awake, a full body twitch as her eyes fly open. Blink. Blink. Remember to take a breath. She sits up, rubs tiredly at her eyes. Startles again at the sound of Five's voice from the kitchen.

let me love on ye loudly!!! (ACCEPTING!)

ngl the espionage theme here IS deliberate but only bc i love the hell out of these three angels!!

so first, i wanna talk abt @cqmmanderbond . roz is an absolutely wonderful writer, a very dear friend, and beloved across the dash and beyond! on top of being a highly talented graphic maker (look at my promo!!) i also just think the world of roz in general. nothing is ever done half-heartedly. there's a strong emphasis on not forcing anything when it comes to writing, and that's the kind of reminder that i think we all need! also, the attention to detail?? the way that every single plot and dynamic is thought out and explored so beautifully?? i'm not well-versed on the world of james bond, but i never felt that i needed to; every headcanon, meta and theory that roz touches is so beautifully explained, well-articulated, and connects all aspects of this world that's made all the richer by roz's attention to detail. he writes on other blogs, but if i focus on this one, there's a rich and vivid style to his writing, a dedication to his characters and their connections that shines in every single word. i'm so glad to share a dash with him, and gladder still to have such a wonderful friendship with him!

next, lemme talk about @forjanus !! crow and i have been friends for a LONG time now, and much like roz, crow's also phenomenally talented at commanding multiple blogs! the dynamic between alec and aisling holds a special place in my heart though; crow's always so eager to discuss and plot so many new aspects of this dynamic and i'm always on board for it! like we know how it's going to end, but the journey is always so much more important than the destination, especially with this! crow has a naturally contagious excitement with writing that makes it so much fun to write with him, and that focus on the emotional and little details of the relationships he develops are what makes all of his threads so compelling to read! idk what a dash without crow would look like or feel like, and i hope i don't need to find out any time soon! (be warned tho crow loves angst, just have the tissues ready--)

last but not least: @matryochka !!! dottie is also iconic and able to balance multiple blogs, but i gotta focus on vinicia bc like. holy jesus. there are no words for it. sometimes i read a thread that dottie posts on the dash and i actually shiver a little. vinicia's such a fantastically terrifying character, and dottie writes her so incredibly!! another example of "i haven't read the comics", and dottie is once again here with such passionate metas and headcanons that i've never felt out of place or silly for not knowing anything! and every single thread she writes is so unique and distinct from one another, and there's a mutual enthusiasm and care applied to the writing that can't be faked, and can only come from the natural comfort and ease of talking with her.

her voice is a soft thing in her throat when she says: "i'm so sorry to intrude but... are you dismantling a vampire tap?" and maybe she shouldn't have said something at all, because the last time she did open her mouth, she got blood in her system and she got her neck snapped and she woke up as an actual vampire.

;— @temp0rt5l CONTINUED FROM X🩸

‪❝Angry little thing, aren’t you?❞ ‬Her murmur is EXCEEDINGLY AMUSED, watching where he flings his jacket off and throws his hands around. His HEARTBEAT pulses wildly, practically in time with the GESTURES he’s throwing around.

Freckled arms fold over a baby tee clad chest bedecked in ridiculous rhinestone CHERRIES, managing to look DELIGHTFULLY ANGELIC in spite of the sheer hilarity of it all. ‪

❝I’m assuming you’re so angry because you have a plan? A plan that involves sticking your nose in, and luckily for you, as it stands—❞ ‬ she stops abruptly and gestures between them with a BARBIE PINK CLAWED hand as though this demonstrated her point. ‪

"Oh yeah sure — " Luther squats and lifts Five under the knees, effectively turning into his bicep into a seat.

He wasn't sure what exactly they were looking for but he figured Five would let him in on it at some point. Luther examined the bookshelves he could see of the huge wall of them. He didn't recognize any of the titles but the topics all ranged from occult esoterica to histories which at least sketched out a shape of what was going on here.

"oh five, your words bounce right off of me. POWER OF LINES IN THE BATHROOM!" he announces, a little too high and a little too used to sibling snark to care that five had bitched right back at him. throws himself unceremoniously into the closest chair to five's writing on the walls - well, the floor, really.

eyes flit over the jumble of letters and numbers and they swirl and overwhelm klaus, who's truly never sober enough to interpret the things in five's mind anyway. "what'cha doin'?" he asks, pulling a little bottle of alcohol from his pocket. it was one of those little ones found in a hotel mini bar and klaus uncaps it for a drink.