Ragingpassive - I'd Rather Be Me

the sillays

Ok here is the thing I’ve been thinking on: that old!Five and Five scene but with Vanya (not instead of Luther, it could be just a coincidence). Anyway, Luther and Five watching how Vanya is like “Please give us the suitcase, Five. Please? For me?” And Five being jealous of himself???

hmm, anon. okay.

(In a universe where maybe perhaps Five and Vanya threw down a little in 3x7 and my girl got her memories back. Maybe also in the universe of the lost myth of true love idk)

((Also I know the teenage five is technically the older five. Don’t fight me pls))

Luther throws an arm across Five’s chest to stop him from marching straight up to his former self. “Stop,” he half-shouts, wincing when the sound carries. “Look,” he begins again, voice lowered now that he has Five’s attention. “You’re.. you’re him. You’re going to freak him out stomping up to him like that.” He pauses, looking at Five, then at his smallest sister, who Five has kept half hidden behind him ever since the both of them had come tumbling into the alley where they were supposed to go back to the future.

Neither has truly told him what happened; when Luther questions the way Vanya seems to lean away from him, tiny hand wrapped around Five’s bicep, Five merely tells him that she has retrieved her memories. The tone of his voice discourages conversation, and Luther realizes that Vanya remembers the way he locked her in a cage. He doesn’t know how to apologize, not when he’s still unsure whether what he did was truly wrong, so he keeps his distance.

“One of us should go,” he finished, keeping his gaze on Vanya. He wants to include her in the conversation.

She smiles faintly at him, and he beams back. Progress. “I’ll go,” she volunteers, moving to circle Five.

Before she can take more than half a step, Five’s hand darts out, fast as lightening, gripping her wrist. “No,” he denies firmly. “You promised, remember?”

Luther doesn’t know what Vanya promised, but it’s enough for her to step back, tugging her hand from his grip and instead wrapping it around his arm. Five goes along with the movement gladly, a shadow of a smirk crossing his face.

Luther shrugs, approaching the older Five delicately. Soon enough, he beckons the other two forward.

And if he is thrown off by the murderous glare old Five turns on his teenage self, that is nothing compared to when Vanya peeks at them over Five’s shoulder.

“Vanya,” the old Five breathes, stepping forward. Luther watches the way he nearly drops the briefcase in awe, fumbling awkward before he takes another step. The way he is looking at Vanya is the way that Luther knows he’s looked at Allison, but somehow more reverent… more desperate… like a holy man who has gone without God for decades, only to see God rushing towards him like a brilliant sun. The realization hits Luther like a freight train, and there is only one question capable of running through his mind:

How long has Five been in love with Vanya?

“Hi, Five,” Vanya says shyly. “You look good.”

Old Five, the nervous, cold man who he had just spoken to, honest-to-god chuckles, stealing the space between them with another step. He is moving slightly to the right too, approaching her so that young Five is not directly between them. The younger version is watching him carefully, Luther notes, but the older one doesn’t seem to care.

“That picture in your book didn’t do you justice, sweetheart,” old Five says gently. “You look radiant.” He’s not too close to her, yet, but he still lifts a shaking hand, like he is reaching for her face. Like he is already imagining the sensation of her skin against his.

“Oh, well,” Vanya replies, takes a tiny step toward him, “I finally got off my pills-“

The step is evidently, literally, a step to far, and young Five arches his shoulders in a move that Luther now recognizes as his ’I’m gonna kill you’ pose. “That’s enough,” he grits out, dropping Vanya’s hand from his arm and instead circling that arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “We didn’t come here for this. This isn’t yours yet, old man.”

Old Five arches a brow. “I rather think it is not yours yet. What are you, thirteen…?”

Vanya rolls her eyes in a show of emotion that Luther is completely shocked by, breaking free from young Five and taking two large steps to come to stand in front of old Five. The man is obviously hyperventilating at her proximity, and she raises her arms cautiously.

“This okay?” She asks. He nods vigorously, and she wraps her arms around him.

He holds her back, breathing her in with his eyes wide open, intent on his younger self. “Now, angel, tell me why you’re here, and I’ll help the best I can.”

Young Five growls. “She doesn’t need your help,” he hisses. “Vanya, you can’t trust him, c’mon, you know I’m the one-“

Vanya cuts him off. “He’s you, Five. Of course I trust him.”

Young Five looks like he doesn’t know what to do with that, but there is a faint blue glow in his eyes, and Luther realizes this could go ugly. Fast.

“Okay guys, for now, we’re trying to save the world. Maybe we can chill out?”

Both the Fives grumble, and Vanya takes a step back. She looks nervously at Luther. “Is this the Paradox Psychosis?”

Luther doesn’t think so, but he doesn’t tell Vanya that. No need to let her know that he’s seen jealousy, he’s seen to men on the verge of killing each other over something precious, and this is definitely that. “I think maybe you should sit on my side of the booth,” he says kindly, and she nods after shooting a long look at young Five.

“If you touch her again, Luther…” He trails off, ignoring the old Five’s indignant questions about what the hell he means.

“Noted,” Luther agrees, and they slide into the booth.

Vanya leans forward, smiling softly at old Five. “It’s about your briefcase,” she begins softly, “and how you get back to me.”

From the rapt look in older Five’s eyes, and the burning jealousy in the other’s, Luther thinks they probably have this in the bag.

Well, as long as homicidal rage doesn’t exacerbate the fact that both Fives seem like they could happily skin each other if it meant getting to hold his powerful little sister’s hand.

Tiny baby.

He's not even that tiny, Crocodile...!

Just another silly doodle, pondering this again. (Here's the previous doodle I did about Crocodile stressing out over his tiny child *lol*)

ちゅパワー！💋

This one kinda blew up on tweeter

Two idiots who would follow each other to hell and back.

Stolen from @starsfilia twitter!

This is so accurate by the way!

"I first saw the girl at the Hob when she was just a baby. Burdock was so proud of her, he toted her around everywhere. After he died in that mine explosion, she started coming alone, trading the odd squirrel or rabbit. Tough and smart, her hair in two braids then, reminding me for all the world of Louella McCoy, my sweetheart of old. And after she volunteered for the Games, that nickname couldn’t help but slip out." - Haymitch Abernathy, Sunrise on the Reaping.

zoro is more of an enabler than a tsukkomi (because he's just like him)

sunset in italy 🌧️☀️