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#now i have too many ideas
hp-rbiim · 2 years ago
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Draco is hired to teach a class about curse-breaking (because of all the leftover dark-magic from the second wizarding war). Harry is an auror and enjoying his married life and came to accompany him on his first day. But of course, wherever Saint Potter™ goes, it goes as well as you’d expect it would. Draco plots murder, but Harry is having a grand time. Draco keeps their engagement ring in a locket he wears around his neck. If you’re wondering why Draco doesn’t have a matching beard, he shaves it. He refuses to have an unwieldy amount of hair on his chin unlike a certain Saint Potter™ (but internally Draco quakes at how good Harry looks with a beard - it suits him). Draco’s chin fuzz does grow back however, and sometimes, when Draco isn’t fully awake yet, Harry does the finger wiggle under Draco’s chin fuzz just for fun.
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severushed-toslytherin · 4 months ago
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😬 nothing but the image of bad-boy Reki standing with a bat held behind his head and smirking down at a shocked Langa is in my head. Both of Reki’s hands are resting at each end of the bat, and the bat is covered with blood. Reki is grinning down at Langa who is on the floor because he was cornered and jumped by some gang. But Reki happened to be walking by, so he beats them up with a baseball bat; he happened to find behind the trash can. Reki also beats them up because, he is in a gang himself (Cherry’s gang). Langa fell for bad-boy Reki, on the spot, even when he knew he shouldn’t have. But Reki’s devilish smirk deceived Langa’s heart and made him seem like an angel. I’m just going to leave this thought in y’all’s head and slowly walk away…
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sixfanarts · 17 hours ago
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i highkey didn’t want to do work so here’s jazzalil (-▽-,)
#firebringer!!!! cave wives!!! jazzalil!!!#i have so many emotions about them rewtching the show ugh ugh#they're gonna do it together kdsjfah#;O;;;;; i love them#fun fact: this was the first wlw couple which was canon that i was exposed to#aka i am very soft#exactly a year ago i was so obssessed w starkid and now im not i guess tastes change#it still makes me incredibly nostalgic going back to old fandoms#the songs are still good it's just??? no longer such strong attachment? (me with all my fandoms rn actl)#mmmm okay modern au hcs#it's not pictured here but i keep imagining jemilla in like bell-bottomed jeans and a crop top idk why#if you peer closely they have rings! bc they proposed to each other at the end of it?? i'm not sure if they're officially married in this au#i like to think it was enemies to friends to lovers and like in the friends stage they kinda did it as a semi-serious joke and now#you cant see it either but zazzalil is wearing shorts and a crop top bc its my head i can choose the designs#jemilla just trying to get work done and zazzalil randomly passes by and swoops in to kiss her on the cheek#'muah you're the best' except jemilla did it to her at first and now she does it back too#zazzalil still dreams a lot and imagines big big ideas and jemilla helps her try to make them realistic and achieve them#it's a very 'reach for the moon you'll end up on the stars' situation bc they're both highly capable :>#i can think of zero ways the heights in this make sense nvm#unless it's like those bar stools and a high table and zazz is walking by#i drew them kissing as well a v sketchy little doodle because i felt lowkey robbed of that at the end of the musical!!#but as characters they both change so much and like. that's good stuff right there character development my beloved#i adore their interactions both in canon and in fanon#jemilla is the go-to problem solver in the tribe and they all like room tgt and opposite the table is probably like keeri#she took this pic and not shown above is that she captioned it 'gay'#firebringer#jemilla#zazzalil#this is technically a redraw? but also the art hasnt really gotten better haha i just wanted to draw them again really badly#together?? 'together nothing's standing in our way' i am sobbing ;O;; skajdhf i want that relationship that's so amazing heart full
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13thdoodle · 7 months ago
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[ DP : fox spirit AU? ]
hi hello i have been having a art rut?? lately so please have this offering of random AU where Danny is half yokai or turned into a fox spirit that can change his appareance back n forth idk i just thought it be fun
and also exorcist valerie who is very much wants to beat the shit out of any ghosts n such
i been playing too much genshin n also read a whole lot of isekai askdnasjdk
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in-tua-deep · a month ago
idk if you still do au ideas but what if delores was a real person in the apocalypse? how it woul dbe done i have no idea but i love all your aus and thought it would be cool
okay okay I don't tend to go for real!Dolores aus admittedly because I find her much more compelling as what she is: a reflection of five himself and a symptom of his crushing loneliness
but i started thinking about it and you know what?? i think five deserves a little socialization, as a treat
so say like, 0.5% of the population is resistant to abilities. Allison would really struggle to rumor them, Five wouldn't be able to jump with them, and, most importantly, whatever the fuck Vanya's ability does has like, reduced damage or something
and the og apocalypse isn't the moon apocalypse, so let's say that it was pure waves of Vanya's powers that fucked over the earth
so 0.5% of the population survives the apocalypse. though, let's be honestly, the real number is a lot smaller than that. People who might have survived Vanya's initial power wave (miraculously) did not survive buildings crushing them or survive the car/plane/bus/train/other transportation crashes or survive being left alone when they are too young to reliably look after themselves, or the variety of other problems that come with 99.5% of the population dying at once
So, Five arrives in the apocalypse and is met with ruin and fire and a whole lot of dead people. He finds his siblings, but it doesn't matter. They're dead. He doesn't even recognize them at first, these strange grown-ups who he identifies not by their faces but by the umbrellas on their wrists that match his own
As he realizes the full impact of his situation, he hears a voice that says, very succinctly, "holy shit!"
It's a girl a few years older than Five himself, maybe 15 or 16, and she is very excited to see another survivor.
And here's where I u-turn this au around bc i'm not all that interested in real!Dolores, but I would be down to talk about Five meeting survivors in the apocalypse, because if Dolores is real I don't buy no one else survived.
So Dolores shows up and see a Literal Child crying over the corpses of his family and assumes that Five is a fellow survivor, and she immediately grabs him up. Five is incoherent with grief at this point anyway, so he doesn't even protest when she basically hauls him away from the bodies. She's babbling at him, but he doesn't really hear anything she's saying
And then she takes him to her dad
(Why not, let's have the 1% potentially be a heritable thing)
and her dad, let's call him just some dad name. like Rick. it has been a fucking WEEK for him, okay. he had his daughter with him, his ex-wife is on the other coast for her work, and by some miracle he survived the apocalypse and so did his child, and he's been wracking his brains trying to figure out what the fuck to do next
and then his daughter shows up with a traumatized thirteen-year-old in tow
now rick is a good dude. he's a dad. they get out of five that his name is five ("what the fuck" dolores mouths to him over five's shoulder and rick can't help but agree) and the bodies he found were his siblings ("Dad and Ben and Vanya weren't there though," this child cries desperately and rick feels his own heart clench in response, "They might still be alive!")
"We can look for them." Rick assures his new adopted child, because he is an adult in a fresh apocalypse and this kid has presumably lost everything he's ever known (more than rick even knows at the time)
and they do. They each get wagons and they go out and find supplies and look for other survivors. Five is... surprisingly helpful and also surprisingly docile as he is able to rely on Someone Else to give orders while he attempts to (dissociate) process what the fuck has happened
and here's the thing: Five prides himself on being independent, sort of. He's independent for a child soldier, but he's used to taking orders from a male authority figure and Rick happens to be just that
The first time that Five does something dangerous and Rick yells is a revelation
(Rick isn't sure if he hopes that Five's dad is alive or not, because if they find that man alive then Rick might just kill the jackass himself. Also like, Five is bizarrely knowledgeable out survival skills, like way too knowledgeable about it, which is helpful for them but also very concerning)
they find a newspaper and Five finds the article that mentions his father's recent death ("Huh. Heart attack." Five says, and there is no emotion in his voice)
(Years later, years later, Five and Rick talk. "I don't think I wanted to find him, either." Five admits, softly because Dolores is asleep, "I think I was more scared of finding him alive than I was of finding his body. He would've been so mad at me, I think.")
this newspaper is how Rick and Dolores find out about Five being Number Five, Umbrella Academy Missing Person
"Dude, what the fuck." Dolores says, wide eyes, "You're like, thirty?"
"I'm thirteen." Five says, and then checks the date on the newspaper again, "Also I think I would technically be 29 if I lived through all of it, 'cause it's April and my birthday is in October."
"You... time travelled?" Rick asks, which is honestly the more relevant question, "Can you go back?"
And Five just,,, crumples on himself. Because he tried, he tried really hard. It didn't work. "I'm gonna figure it out. I'm gonna go back, I'm going to save them."
That, Rick thinks, is a lot of weight to put on one person's shoulders, but especially the shoulders of a child.
"Alright." Rick says, because what else can he say after finding out his new child has superpowers and is from like, 2004? "What do you need?"
("Oh my god I have so many memes to teach you." Dolores says later, reverently. Five blinks in confusion and Rick mentally prepares himself for the recitation of so many vines)
And it's easier, somehow. Five sometimes feels like it's a betrayal, but he settles into apocalypse life with an ease that surprises him.
He lets Rick fuss over him and help tie his scarf securely around his head every morning before he sets off on supply runs with Dolores. And they're kids! Five has never had a friend before, and Dolores is funny and smart and she's struggling just as much as he is.
"I don't know if my mom's alive." She says to him, in solidarity when he checks the face of every corpse to see if they're Vanya.
Five is practical in the way only a child soldier can be. He's economical with the room in their wagons, carefully examining what might and what might not be useful.
Dolores, on the other hand, constantly takes up space with what Five sees as useless shit.
"Excuse you," Dolores says, shoving a game of monopoly, the entire discworld series, and a pack of glitter gel pens into her wagon, "These are absolutely vital apocalypse supplies."
She challenges him, plays with him in a way no one ever has. "I bet you I can find more batteries today than you can," She grins at him, "Winner gets to pick dinner first?"
"You're on." Five says, directly before Dolores pulls two packs of 24 AA batteries from behind her back, like a cheat.
Dolores makes him take a ten minute break when they find a playground that has been mostly not-destroyed. They rummage around kids backpacks and mother's handbags for some good loot, too numb to corpses to even be bothered all that badly about the corpses they belong to.
"I'm getting on the swings." Dolores says when Five starts making noises about moving on, "I haven't been on a swingset in ages."
"What's the point?" Five grumps.
"Don't be sour because you can't swing as high as I can!" Dolores laughs, getting higher and higher as the swings creak ominously.
Five grumpily gets into the other swing and grudgingly kicks himself back and forth until Dolores takes pity on him and teaches him how to properly move his legs and body to get higher and higher.
Dolores jumps from the swing seat and lands with a flourish and smile. Five jumps out of his seat and then jumps, warping right in front of Dolores and making her yell and hit at him in outrage. Five smiles the widest he has all week.
This is how Five grows up in the apocalypse, with Dolores teasing him into taking breaks and leaning over his shoulder to look at his math and scandalizing him by stating that she'd only just started on matrices in her own high school math class.
Every night they huddle around Rick while he picks up whatever book Dolores picked out that day because it is a travesty that Five has never read hunger games or whatever, and then they read together because it would be a genuine blood bath if they all took turns. The first time Five accidentally mentioned a spoiler and Dolores genuinely considered murder was the birthday of this tradition
Some days the air is too smoky or there are dust storms or it's just plain too dangerous to go out, and they all stay in. Dolores regales Five with stories about public school, and Five tells them about his siblings.
Then they all cry
"I shouldn't be crying." Five sobs.
"Shut the fuck up," Dolores sobs back, "You literally watched me lose my shit over remembering my shitty eighth grade dance and listened to me sob-sing toxic for like four hours."
"In fairness I also wished you would shut up then."
"Let me hug you or I will start singing songs that I only remember the chorus for again you absolute fucker."
"I could always sing some -"
"No, Rick/Dad."
And Five grows up. Rick shows him how to shave very carefully in front of cracked mirrors. Dolores teases him every time his voice cracks. Rick tells Five in no uncertain terms that he loves and cares for him, and that Reginald was a little bitch. There are a lot of heartfelt conversations around that, honestly. Rick telling Five that he and the siblings deserved better, that they were children and deserved to have a childhood.
And that he has faith in Five. Rick and Dolores both do, they bring him back paper and pens and pencils and chalk and anything Five can use to write equations. They poke around any libraries for books on theoretical mathematics and quantum physics. Rick and Dolores go out scouting for food while Five stays home and can work longer.
They also make him take breaks, make sure that he's looking after himself.
They're a little better off than OG!Five when it comes to food, because some animals survive. Enough that Rick figures out how to hunt. Five is the first one to each bugs, and even though Dolores makes faces they all start eating bugs as well.
"Pretty sure there's loads of cultures that eat bugs." Rick says grudgingly, wondering if he should try stirfry the cockroaches and if that would improve the taste. "There's even, uh, cricket flour or whatever, right?"
"Plus you eat like, five spiders a year when you're asleep." Dolores says cheerfully, just to watch her dad's face scrunch up in displeasure.
"That doesn't sound true, but I don't know enough about spiders to dispute it." Five mutters, and Dolores gives him such a proud look that it makes him roll his eyes.
They're in their thirties when Rick dies. He's out foraging and hunting, and the rubble he's standing on gives way and he ends up with a gash in his leg. He manages to stop the bleeding, but the world is filthy and they don't have any antibiotics.
He gets an infection.
"It's okay." He tells both of his kids, "It's okay. I'm just so glad that you guys have each other, y'hear? I'm so glad."
"It's not okay." Five says, voice thick and choked, "It's not."
"Yeah, well, you're going to figure out how to go back, right? Go back in time and save everyone. Then I'll have never died, right?" Rick smiles, "And even if you don't, I'll be waiting for you on the other side and we'll see each other again anyway."
"I'm going to fix it."
"I know. I have faith in you, Five." Ricks says honestly, and that's more than Reginald ever said.
They sit quietly together while Dolores is out scavenging. They've been taking turns sitting with Rick.
"I won't remember you, in the past, will I?" Rick says rhetorically, but Five answers anyway.
"I don't think so."
Rick hums, "Well, doesn't matter. If you need help in the past, you come to me, y'hear?"
"You won't remember me."
"Doesn't matter. You come find me, and you tell me your crazy story until I believe you, and then I'll help you." Rick says firmly, "You're family. You're my son. Timelines? Don't matter. If you need help, with anything, even if it's just with - with filling out a bowling team or something -"
"I have never been bowling in my life and you know it." Five interrupts, but it makes him laugh just a little bit which was clearly Rick's intention.
"Well who knows what you'll get up to in the past! You'll be able to go bowling, you know. Get to wear those uncomfortable shoes. Hey, you go far enough back maybe you can go to Dolores's tenth birthday party and put me out of my misery."
"Was she bad at bowling?"
"Oh, she was wiping the floor with me. No contest."
"Honestly, that sounds absolutely accurate."
"Shut up, bowling just wasn't my sport. Regardless, the point was that I'm giving you a free pass to come and get me. Because I know you, I know how you think." Rick brings up his hand to tap his finger against Five's forehead, "You get it into your head that you need to go it alone, take it all on your shoulders. I'm telling you that if you do that I'll somehow manifest my memories and come smack you over the head for being stupid, you hear?"
"I'm not dragging you into anything." Five says firmly, "I'll have my siblings."
"Who were also children." Rick points out. "And dragging? Dragging is such a strong word for a volunteer."
"A volunteer who won't remember volunteering." Five shoots back.
Rick just shrugs, and then winces when the movement jolts his bad leg. "Five, I'm going to be honest with you here. And sappy. Can you handle a bit of sappiness for a minute?"
"No."
"Well too bad. Can't leave a dying man, you'd feel too bad. So you're stuck with me. But you listen good, okay? Because you aren't dragging me into anything. Whatever life you have, I want to have a part of that. Because you're my son. Wherever you are, whatever you do, I want to help because you're family. What you'd be doing by leaving me out of it is depriving me of someone I love, depriving me of knowing one of the best kids I've ever known."
"Shut up." Five says, choked.
"Nope, it's sappy time." Rick states, "Maybe asking you to come find me is selfish, but I don't care. No matter what version of me exists, I want to be in your life."
"My life is a walking joke, why would you want any part of that?"
"It has been my privilege to watch you grow up. To help you. To be here for you. Of course I'd want to be there to watch you grow up the rest of the way."
"But -"
"Shut up, just let me tell you that I am so proud of you. You never give up, and your heart is so big. You love so much and so loudly, and it's been the highest honor of my life to be included in your family."
Five pauses for a moment to collect himself before simply saying - "You're the best dad I've ever had."
Rick snorts, "Considering my competition, I'd sure hope so. That bar was so low old Reggie was practically limbo dancing with the devil. Now get over here and give an old man a hug."
They don't bury Rick, when he dies. They don't have time and the ground is too hard and they don't have the heart to move him. Instead the pack everything up and seal him in the shelter they'd lived in.
Dolores pulls out a bottle of ancient nail polish and painstakingly writes Rick's name on the wall with his birth year and an approximate current year. They aren't 100% sure though, since time blends together out in the apocalypse, but it's something.
They continue by themselves. They get older.
Dolores jokingly calls him her husband because the way his face scrunches up makes her cackle. They see other people very occasionally, usually passing through. Usually groups. Dolores and Five get to flex their hosting skills, though more than one group declines their cockroach stirfry.
("It's a family recipe." Five says with amusement in his eyes that usually manages to drown out old grief.)
"Jeeze, that kid couldn't have been older'n twenty-three." Dolores complains, "Makes me feels positively ancient."
"They wouldn't have known any world 'cept for the apocalypse." Five muses, pouring some boiled water into wine glasses because they might be living in the apocalypse but they can be fancy.
"Do you ever think about that?" Dolores asks, turning to him with no judgement, just curiosity. "When you go back, you'll be like, erasing them from existence."
Five shrugs, "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe this place will just split off into an alternate timeline."
"Maybe none of this is real." Dolores says, amusement coloring her voice. "Maybe you aren't talking to a real person at all. Maybe this is just a symbol of your insanity and cracked mind."
"Dolores, I literally have a scar where you stabbed me. Did I somehow manage to stab myself in the back?"
"Scraped you, I scraped you. By accident."
"So you maintain." Five says haughtily, swirling his water in his wine glass like a pretentious prick.
"I could totally be fake. You don't know my life."
"I know way too much about you, Dolores. Like, way way too much." Five scoffs, because Dolores and him have literally no secrets from one another at this point. Five even knows the truth behind what happened at Janet Scranton's thirteenth birthday party. Like, he said, way too much.
"Maybe you made it up. Maybe that's why you know so much."
"Dolores, I'm going to be honest with you right now." Five presses the tips of his fingers to his chin, "If you were a figment of my imagination, you would be so much better at math."
"Hey!" Dolores squawks indignantly, "I didn't even get to finish high school you pretentious prick!"
"Neither did I!"
"You didn't even go to high school, you brat."
"I'm fifty-two I think I've outgrown 'brat.'"
"Tell that to your attitude." Dolores says haughtily, "You're still younger than me."
"Won't be when I go back in time." Five says cheerfully, completely ignoring Dolores's venomous look.
"That's cheating."
"Sucks to suck." Five says loftily, taking another sip of his water.
Sometimes they talk about The Plan, with capital letters. What Five is going to do when he goes back in time, depending on when he pops out. Is he going to adopt his siblings? What about Reginald?
"You don't think I could kill Reginald?" Five says, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.
"I think you should let me do it. I'll even give you control of tonight's music if you do."
"What are you doing to do? Bite his ankles? What if you're like, seven or something?"
"All the better to get away with it since I'll be too young to convict or whatever."
"Pretty sure that's not how the law works."
"How would you know? Just for that I'm playing Istanbul on repeat again."
"I don't know why you think that's a threat. That song slaps."
It takes a few more years before Five is close enough that the Commission comes to interfere. Because that's what I think happened - Five was getting too close and they stepped in because they might as well distract the man as much as they can with missions, right?
So the Handler shows up. And she offers Five a job, telling him that they have the ability to travel through time. And Five - hesitates.
"Give me some time?" Five asks, and the Handler graciously gives him 24 hours.
And he and Dolores talk it over, because now that his goal is more in sight than it has ever been and Five is scared.
"What are you waiting for? You have the chance to see your siblings again." Dolores says patiently.
"Yeah," Five says, and what he doesn't say is clear. But I won't see you.
"Five." Dolores says, and she cradles his face between her palms like he is something precious, "I have had so much time with you already. More than I would have ever. We have been so lucky, to have this time. How can I demand more than what we have already been given?"
"When have you ever not demanded the world, Dolores?" Five asks, his own hand coming up to cover Dolores's own.
"We've had decades together, Five. We're getting old. I was always going to lose you, one way or another. Nothing lasts forever."
"I don't want to lose you."
"I know. But if I had to choose a way, if I could decide where our story ends, this would be it. Letting you go, because this way you get to live. You get to see your family again. You get to save the world. I could ask for nothing more than for you to get your happy ending."
Five removes Dolores's hand from his cheek so that he can cradle it between them, "I'm happy here with you. I've never been happier. Isn't that silly? That I was happier in the apocalypse?"
"I bet killing Reggie would make you happy." Dolores laughs rustily.
"One day you're going to see the mysterious disappearance of a famous billionaire in the paper and feel a twinge of satisfaction and now have a clue why." Five laughs as well, shaking his head.
Dolores pats Five's hands, "Five, look at me. We've had our time. And you're going to give me even more of it. More time with my father. More time with my mother. I'll never know it, but you'll have saved me."
"What if this is - what if this is an alternate reality? What if I leave you here alone?"
"Then you'll be saving a 15-year-old girl from the same fate as me. Because as much as I love you, as much as I have loved this time we have had together, this is still an apocalypse. This should never have happened, and if you have a chance to go back and prevent it, then I want you to take that chance with both hands."
"Even if it means leaving you alone?"
Dolores smiles at him, "I'm not going to be alone. Far too many creepy crawlies in the apocalypse for that."
"Shut up, I'm being serious."
"Hmm." Dolores hums consideringly, "Maybe I'll head North, to that new settlement that last group said they'd heard word of. Sure they'd find some use for an old woman who's survived this long in the wilderness."
"You can have my half of the record collection." Five says, pulling her against him into a hug that she easily returns.
"As if I wouldn't have stolen them as soon as you left." She scoffs, but it's a little wet, and Five pretends his own eyes aren't leaking tears.
When The Handler comes back, Dolores gives him another hug. She also slips something into his pocket - some photos. They'd taken it a year into the apocalypse, when Dolores had found an ancient looking polaroid camera and towed it home despite Five's protests about practicality. The photos are worn and faded at the edges, but the smiles on Five's little apocalypse family's faces are undeniable.
"You'll have to see if they magically fade when you change the timeline." Dolores whispers to him with a grin, "Like in the movies."
"Okay." Five whispers back.
"You have the list of movies to watch, right?" Dolores says. Five rolls his eyes and nods because he wrote the list last night into his Vanya-book while Dolores hovered over his shoulder and critiqued his handwriting.
"And you promise to try a proper non-expired twinkie at some point?"
"That I do not promise. I think even looking at one would make me lose my lunch. I have twinkie-trauma."
"Shut up and get going." Dolores says, because the Handler is starting to tap her foot impatiently.
And off Five goes to become an assassin. Though - he's much more gentle this time. He's careful, he doesn't kill children and he usually takes jobs that don't require killing at all. He distracts and manipulates events as much as he can without killing.
He's actually much more well socialized, thanks to Rick and Dolores. Less feral child and more determined man on a mission.
Which is why he's so frustrated when he finally, finally manages to get the equations to work and falls through and falls - directly back into his stupid thirteen-year-old body.
"Shit." Five says, loudly, and revels in the surprised look on his siblings faces.
He strides into the kitchen, and they all follow him like ducklings. They look exactly the way they did when they died.
"Wow this is actually way harder than I thought it would be." Five muses, looking at their dead faces. But as Dolores would say, life is hard but you have to keep on trucking sometimes. "Whatever, what's the date?"
"Five, where have you been?" Diego demands, looking irritated. It makes Five snort in amusement.
"The future. The past. If you want like, an exact list of dates you'll have to hold your horses. I spent like, two weeks in Peru once. No souvenirs though, unfortunately."
They look taken aback, like they didn't expect Five to have quite this much sass. Oops. That is definitely Dolores's influence. Or maybe he was always a little asshole. In fairness, what teenagers aren't tiny assholes? He has an excuse.
"What the fuck does that mean?" Diego's eyebrows are furrowed in anger. It kind of takes Five aback for a second, because he remembers a Diego who stutters when he argued.
"When did you learn the fuck-word?" Five asks, raising an eyebrow before her can help it, "Grace ought to wash your mouth out with soap."
Diego immediately goes red, "Shut up!"
"Wow you're so easy to rile up. Aren't you like, twenty-something? Actually, I could figure out for myself how old you are if you gave me the date."
"I'm twenty-nine." Diego growls, like that was the point.
"Haunting!" Five says cheerfully, because that means there is way less time than he would like, narrowing his time down to a six month window.
It's extremely funny how his cheer makes all of them make faces.
It's Klaus who leans forward, "Why do you need to know?"
Klaus's face is open and curious and - (looks exactly like he did when Five found him all those years ago) - and Five can't help but answer him. "The world end on April 1st, 2019. No it isn't an April Fools joke, yes I have heard that joke like a million different times. I just want to know how close I landed so I can, you know, start working on how to fix that."
"Woah woah woah, roll it back." Allison says, holding a hand up, "What?"
"The apocalypse occurs on April 1st, 2019." Five says, slowly. "I have traveled from afar to prevent this from happening, because like, everyone dies."
"Everyone?" Vanya says weakly from the side.
She's clearly expecting to be ignored, so Five turns his head to address her directly by wiggling his hand back and forth a little. "Sort of. Like, not too many people survive at all. A handful of the human population, you know."
"But you survived?" Diego recovers admirably, if bitingly.
"Well, no." Five says rolling his eyes, "Wouldn't you just know it, Klaus here has managed to figure out a new ability!"
Everyone turns to look at Klaus, who immediately holds up his hands like he's being arrested or something, "I did not!"
"Wonderful! Now that we've established that I'm alive -"
"Why should we trust a word you say?" Luther says for the first time, looking pensive.
Five blinks, genuinely taken aback. "Because... I'm your brother? Because I can clearly and obviously time travel? Like, yeah, it would have been more convenient if I'd arrived in like, my old-body for proof-purposes, but like. I mean. Thirteen is still a pretty convincing age to be to prove time travel considering if I hadn't, I would be like, almost thirty."
"Roll it back again." Allison says firmly, "What do you mean by 'old body'?"
"Great question!" Five says pointing at Allison and smiling. Everyone looks at him weird again, and Five takes a moment to wonder if they've ever experienced positive reinforcement. Knowing Reginald, probably not. "Wait! Is Reggie alive? Wait, no, answer that in a second. Uh. When I time traveled I fucked up my body I guess, I was like, old. White hair and wrinkles-type old from spending decades in the apocalypse. But I fucked up the calculations and got booted back to my thirteen-year-old body, I guess. How, I have no idea."
"What?" Vanya says, still equally weakly.
"You have no idea how fucked up time travel is." Five whispers conspiratorially to Vanya, loud enough for the whole table to hear, "There are so many ways to die. Or permanently tear a hold in space time. But like, with life as we know if ending soon-ish, I figured I couldn't possibly fuck it up worse than it already was, y'know? Speaking of, anyone have the date again?"
"Wait, what was that about dad?" Luther asks, very focused.
"Oh, you still call him dad? Big oof." Five says automatically, because apparently his verbal filter is shot to hell after living with Dolores. It does make Klaus bark out a too-loud laugh.
"What does that mean?" Luther asks aggressively.
"It means Reginald sucks and doesn't deserve the title of 'dad,' what did you think I meant?" Five asks, and now both Diego and Vanya and both cracking smiles, though Vanya is covering hers with a hand.
"Have some respect for the dead." Luther growls, standing up and looking very large and threatening.
Five sways back, craning his head up, "Woah there big buy, sit down before I injure my poor growing spine looking up at you. Jeeze, did Reggie force feed you steroids or something? I wouldn't put it past him but like, I just want to know he at least went over the side effects of the drug with you. Also like, thanks for narrowing it down. Also terrifying! Seriously though, exact date please because if I have less than 24 hours I am going to break down crying and that is a threat."
"I love this Five." Klaus says reverently.
"March 21st." Vanya offers, finally.
"Wow! Terrifying!" Five says, clapping his hands together, "Hate that. Ten days, huh? Well, who wants to get on board the save-the-world express?"
Klaus immediately flings his hand in the air, Five points at his brother appreciatively. "Yes, excellent! I'll take the volunteer in the lovely skirt as my first team member. Any other volunteers?"
"Danke!" Klaus simpers, grinning widely like this is the vest entertainment he's had in weeks.
"I'm not just going to stand here and listen to you badmouth dad and boss us around." Luther slams his hands on the table.
"Well not with that attitude." Five snarks.
Diego raises his hand, "I would like to join team fuck dad as well."
"We can certainly debate team names later." Five says, nodding wisely as Luther gives some sort of scandalized gasp.
"Honestly, I just want to see where this is going." Klaus confesses.
Five shrugs, because he doesn't really care about the reason. "Don't you want to prove me wrong them? Prove what a well-adjusted young man Reginald Hargreeves raised?"
"Shut up." Luther grinds out, looking a moment away from throwing a punch.
"If this is all true, I have to get home." Allison cuts in, looking concerned, "I have - I have a daughter."
"I mean, if you want to give Claire a world to live in then I'd stick around, but that's just me." Five shrugs.
"You know her name?" Allison asks, obviously taken aback.
Five is almost offended, "Uh, yeah. I have her photo as well. Y'all get on like, a bizarre number of gossip magazine covers did you know that?"
Allison manages to outdo herself in terms of being taken aback once more.
There's a beat of silence, and then Five turns, "Vanya? You in?"
"Me?" Vanya blinks, looking shocked. "What can I do?"
"Yeah, what can she do?" Diego asks, crossing his arms and suddenly looking grumpy.
It baffles Five, who scrunches his nose, "Uh, like, a lot? I assume? I mean. I'm going to be honest here, just looking at y'all right now is a lot. In more ways than one! Hashtag trauma and all that, but like, name a single one of you that wouldn't be the most obvious person in the room as soon as you walked into it. Except Vanya, who somehow manages to look like a well adjusted adult, by some miracle."
"Did you just verbally say the word hashtag?" Allison asks, looking so deeply confused.
"More concerned about the trauma he tacked onto there, but y'know, to each their own." Klaus immediately cuts in.
"You think I'm well-adjusted?" Vanya asks, looking oddly touched.
"I would like to direct your attention to Diego's leather pants-scowl combo and Luther's general aura of daddy-issues." Five says pointedly, "I can practically smell the tragic comic book backstory in this room. If I'd jumped back a decade earlier this would have been Batman's wet dream of orphan selection."
"Alright! Game plan!" Five says, waving Diego's knife in his hand.
Diego's hands immediately go to his weird harness looking thing, "Hey!"
"Give me just one moment to get the tracker out." Five rolls his eyes, "Then I'll give it back, I promise. Also if someone could ask Grace for like, some antibiotics that would be good."
"What?" Allison asks, directly before Five stabs himself and there is suddenly panic at the table.
"Relax!" Five says, allowing Diego to remove the knife from his hands. He doesn't need it anyway and his hand immediately drops down to root in the wound.
"Five what the fuck!" Diego yells, but Five just pulls up bloody fingers and waves the tracker into Diego's stupefied face.
"What the fuck is that, Five?" Allison demands, looking very shaken.
"I literally just said it was a tracker." Five points out, "Now, I think our first team activity should be voting on whether we destroy it or take it out to bumfuck nowhere and ditch it to confuse the Commission."
"What the fuck is the Commission?" Diego barks.
"Man. Maybe I should just hit up Rick." Five muses, "This is going to take so much explaining."
"Who is Rick."
"So much explaining."
#survivors au#well adjusted five au#five actually has some social skills!#and an idea of what an actual parent looks like as well#klaus absolutely adores this version of five#who quotes vines and uses gen z slang with the best of them#five has been reliably informed that public education is worse than the apocalypse#but he's also pretty sure working with his family is worse as well#five: i have so much trauma lol#klaus: oh big same#vanya: mood#five is somehow the most well adjusted hargreeves#and the most responsible#he doesn't legally exist and he doesn't pay taxes but somehow he has his shit together#five showing up at rick's house: you don't know me but i know you in the future#rick: what the fuck#five: don't make me bring up bethany midler from highschool because you gave me so many embarrassing stories to convince yourself with#rick: okay okay i believe you and you are???#five: your son from the future lol what's up dad want to help save the world#five arriving back at the manor like: WHAT'S UP LOSERS RICK IS NOW YOUR DAD TOO BC GOD KNOWS Y'ALL NEED AN ACTUAL FATHER FIGURE#klaus calls rick a dilf and five kidney punches him hard enough that klaus can't even properly introduce himself#it's better for everyone that way#delores: 15 and ready to fuck someone up#delores: i'm not staying with this weirdo (diego) while you go off with my dad#five threateningly: don't make me bring up what really happened to dad's good suit in 2012#delores: i will stay right here#rick: wait WHAT happened to my good suit#five: unimportant don't you want to save the world#long post#far tua long
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existentialintrovert · 8 months ago
Text
the fact that jack manifold loosing his last canon life and getting a glitch where he falls out of the world into a dark, endless void before coming back actually fits with the lore about the afterlife that was established today with ghostbur is so fucking funny to me man
#this man died and his game glitched the canon into existance by chucking him into the void. the power this man holds#dream smp#if you dont follow him btw: he is no longer dead. he speedran his own resurrection using pure anger and now has all 3 canon lives back#this is what happens when you don't give people a script and they write their own character. he and niki are forcing themselves back into#the main story by any means necessary and honestly i've gotta rate it#big up mr manifold#actually wrote something#ghostbur#jack manifold#l'manberg lads stay winning. i mean#not canonically sure but in terms of the og lmanbergians somehow still being some of the most interesting characters on the whole#smp despite how many times 3 of them are ignored in arcs and how many peope have joined since they were established#they stay winning#i do love that theyre being more vocal about wanting to be in the story more now though#cause you could definitely tell that theyd been largely pushed aside. not on purpose but still#i mean wilbur even pointed it out like just after he stopped writing on one of nikis streams. saying he got caught up in the idea of like#eret as a villain so disregarded the character and like they didnt wanna power up pogtopia too quick so had niki stay with manberg#which caused her character to get ignored a bit more#and obviously jack disappeared for like a month or something and then was suddenly back during the 16th war#but the fact theyre actually using those elements which didnt strictly come from the canon but arguably off stream stuff#and making it part of their characters is cool#like niki and jacks villain/vengence arcs are about being ignored#which works so well. like especially considering jack disappeared for a bit cause the canon side of that literally could just be#that he was pushed out of any form of power and abandoned by pogtopia when schlatt came along#to the point where he established his own area close enough to lmanberg to maintain allegiance but also far enough to have independence#im gonna stop ranting in the tags now idk why i always do this
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someonestolemyshoes · 2 months ago
So at risk of stepping out of line here are some prompts of many genres for you! I dont know if any of these tickle your fancy.
Hange Survives the rumbling
Magic AU (specifically what would they be skilled or not skilled in. I always picture Hange as being good at illusions and Levi being good at combat magic but best at house hold charms for example)
Zombie apocalypse AU (Levi was a little disgruntled at first to have a tag along but warms up to her pretty quickly and mostly against his better judgement. He is forced to concede having someone to watch his back is nice after she saves his life though )
The exact moment other characters realized Levi had feelings for Hange.
Hange and Levi pranking Erwin in increasingly elaborate ways while keeping their identity a secret. As he gets more and more frustrated.
Just straight up angst with a capitol A
Ive honestly thoroughly enjoyed everything you've written and look forward to seeing more. I dont know etiquette for offering prompts and hope I didnt offer too many. I just thought they sounded cool.
I have saved all of these because there are so many good ideas BUT on this occasion I have decided to write the following: The exact moment other characters realized Levi had feelings for Hange. This was also inspired in part by something @glassesandswords said earlier regarding Levihan and ballroom dancing. There is no (real) dancing, but there is a ballroom.....does that count? 
They were greeted politely at the doors, and led through a huge, carved entryway, intricate pillars stretching from the shiny marble floor to the high, mural ceiling. It was a beautiful architectural feat, but the effect was wasted on Erwin's small group, who observed the space with contempt, or else in Hange's case, stared only at the floor where their reflections shimmered in the polished surface.
Sweet music played through a closed set of double doors up ahead, carrying with it the hum of many voices interspersed now and then with a raucous laugh, or the clink of cutlery on expensive ceramic dishes. Two men, dressed in matching uniform, bowed politely and pulled the doors open, and the sound from within spilled into the entryway, echoing into the vast space.
The ballroom was beautiful.
** 
The carriage pulled up in a stone-paved courtyard outside one of the most extravagant buildings Erwin had ever seen. Much like everything else in Sina, money had been thrown about without restraint, to create halls and mansions and castles each bigger and more gaudy than the last. They functioned almost exclusively as a show of wealth, save for the occasional ball or banquet where the space was welcome, and the rich were more than happy to showcase their spoils.
Tonight, this particular hall had the honour of hosting the Benefactors Ball. It was an opportunity for the military factions to rub shoulders with nobility, and garner themselves some additional funding—politicking disguised as polite conversation over glasses of champagne, each one likely costing more than the monthly budget allocated for the Survey Corps as a whole.
Erwin stepped down from the carriage and took in the space. The building was tall, all white stone and huge, arched windows, polished until they shone, reflecting the evening sky. A wide staircase led to a set of great oak doors, thrown open and exposing a glimpse of the entrance hall within. The interior was full of buildings like this, large enough to hold hundreds, but vacant for most of the year, while the people within Wall Rose lived like cattle, penned into cramped houses with one room for a whole family.
Behind him, the carriage creaked as Levi climbed down. He stopped beside Erwin and stared up at the lavish building with his lip curled, his distaste evident. He made no efforts to hide his disgust at the gaudy display of luxury, and did not bother lowering his voice when he said, "stinks like pig shit. Filthy rich bastards can't pay someone to wipe their asses properly?"
Erwin cleared his throat, swallowing the urge to laugh. He perfectly understood Levi's disdain, for the sentiment was widely shared, both throughout the Corps and much of the land outside of the interior. People lived in poverty, struggling to make ends meet and fighting for rations while the rich ate decadent banquets full of more food than they could ever hope to consume, growing fat and idle in their comfort.
To his left, Mike had alighted from the carriage and was busy straightening his suit. He showed less restraint than Erwin, snorting and garnering some scathing looks from the passing attendees. Erwin fixed his face into a pleasant, appeasing smile, and spoke through the side of his mouth. "Better not to insult our company if you want to eat over the winter."
"We're already eating scraps like dogs," Levi protested with a sharp click of his tongue.
"And you'll be eating less than that if they cut our funding. Behave, please."
Mike shrugged a shoulder, unbothered by Erwin's scolding. Levi shot him a scowl, but did not argue and instead turned to talk over his shoulder, barking out. "Oi, four-eyes. The hell is taking so long?"
There was some shuffling inside the carriage. Erwin could hear Hange grumbling to themself inside it, and then their voice called out, somewhat petulantly, "I feel ridiculous."
"We're running late," Erwin said. "Come on."
Hange swore quietly, then sighed. More shuffling  and Erwin heard the carriage stairs creak as Hange climbed their way carefully down them, manoeuvring awkwardly with all the loose fabric around their legs. They stood stiffly beside Levi, adjusting the thin, silk shawl across their shoulders and pulling it over their chest. The neckline of their dress cut too low for their comfort, which Hange had complained about endlessly on the ride here, and the midnight blue fabric fell to brush the tops of their feet, where they had been forced into a pair of flat, thin-soled shoes that were already rubbing the skin of their heels raw.
The dress was very pretty, and in truth, Hange looked very pretty in it, but their discomfort showed painfully in their high, drawn shoulders and slouched posture, curved over themself to make their long, thin frame appear as small as possible.
"I don't see why I couldn't wear a suit like everybody else," Hange said, huffing to blow their fringe out of their face. Nanaba had fixed their hair in a delicate half-up do, a pretty, intricate bun fastened at the back of their head while the rest of their hair fell in loose curls just past their shoulders. Already, they seemed annoyed with it, constantly pushing it away from their face and neck. Mike turned to examine the view and Levi, who had been watching Hange slyly from the corner of his eye, slid his gaze forward and away. Erwin cleared his throat, but made no comment. The organisers had been clear about their dress code requirements—no military decoration, suits for the men and dresses for the women. Hange's military record had decided their fate for the evening, and no amount of arguing or pleading could change that.
After a pregnant pause, Erwin politely held out an arm for Hange, and gave them a somewhat apologetic smile. "Shall we?"
Hange kept their hands to themself. They shook their head and made a vague gesture for Erwin to walk ahead, following closely behind him and Mike, whose combined height and bulk blocked them from view. Erwin felt a little guilty, for forcing Hange to come, and for refusing their multiple requests to dress in something they felt more relaxed in. But Erwin understood well how the benefactors operated, knew that a pretty face in a nice dress had sway where stoic men in suits did not. Hange's frosty attitude towards him was enough to convince him that they understood, too.
They were greeted politely at the doors, and led through a huge, carved entryway, intricate pillars stretching from the shiny marble floor to the high, mural ceiling. It was a beautiful architectural feat, but the effect was wasted on Erwin's small group, who observed the space with contempt, or else in Hange's case, stared only at the floor where their reflections shimmered in the polished surface.
Sweet music played through a closed set of double doors up ahead, carrying with it the hum of many voices interspersed now and then with a raucous laugh, or the clink of cutlery on expensive ceramic dishes. Two men, dressed in matching uniform, bowed politely and pulled the doors open, and the sound from within spilled into the entryway, echoing into the vast space.
The ballroom was beautiful. Long tables lined the walls, piled high with more food than they had ever seen in their lives, steaming joints of meat, fresh and tender, and fish, vegetables steamed or roasted and coated in unfamiliar herbs and spices. The combined smell was mouthwatering. Beside him, Mike breathed long and deep through his nose. There was a huge, open floor in the centre of the room where the attendees were mingling, the men dressed in sharp, well-fitted suits and the women draped in elegant dresses, fine jewelry studding their fingers and wrapping their wrists, pearls and gems hanging from their necks. A great, ornate chandelier hung overhead, lit with what felt like hundreds of candles, the firelight ducking and weaving, shimmering from the hanging crystals and casting pretty, shifting shadows on the floor below. On one wall, huge windows ran from ceiling to floor and displayed a well-groomed garden flushed pink in the setting sun, dotted carefully with trimmed bushes and pruned flowers, a great stone fountain set in the centre,
The four of them stood in a line in the open doorway. Erwin observed quickly, efficiently. Many faces were already blushing a little red, from the heat and their full stomachs and the champagne, ferried around the room by waiters carrying trays, darting about the space with choreographed ease. He spotted a few of the key benefactors, those with the fattest wallets, and took note of the drinks in their hands—tumblers of amber liquid, whiskey or brandy from the bar, or else goblets of deep red wine that stained their lips and teeth. A glass or two more and enough sweet, sickly compliments, and Erwin felt confident they could come to some financial agreements.
He turned to look at the others. Mike's expression was neutral, eyes masked by his long fringe, but his posture was relaxed, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. Levi's eyes had once again roved to one side, where Hange stood, taking in the room with one arm covering their chest, their nails scratching absently at the skin of their neck. Levi clicked his tongue at them and reached up, flicking their knuckles.
"Stop doing that, idiot," Levi said. "You look diseased."
Hange's neck had indeed turned a deep shade of red where their nails had raked at the skin, swelling in thin, raised welts that threatened to split open with much more abuse. Hange pulled the shawl tighter around themself.
"I have a few people I need to speak to," Erwin said. He shot them each a look in turn. "Mingle, but please, stay out of trouble."
Mike nodded. Levi shrugged a shoulder. Hange glared at him, the candlelight catching and glinting off their glasses. Erwin trusted the group, but not completely. Mike had a penchant for dry sarcasm, and Erwin had observed of late that Hange and Levi could make an explosive pair when left to their own devices, equally as volatile whether they were conspiring together or else at each other's throats. Collateral damage within the Corps was easy enough to iron out—traumatised recruits were simple to deal with. Offended benefactors and interior personnel were a whole other matter. Smoothing out Survey Corps relations with their funding parties was a headache Erwin didn't need, if he could help it.
Hange, though, looked ill-equipped for mischief. Erwin couldn't recall a time he had ever heard them seem quiet, or seen them so tense. Of all the soldiers Erwin had ever known, Hange was the most loose, relaxed, with little regard for military hierarchy, no sense of personal space, and a lack of shame so absolute it bordered on admirable. He had never seen Hange so subdued, before. He might have found the reprieve from their usual exuberance peaceful, if not for the itch of guilt that came with it.
But he didn't have time to dwell on it. There were more important matters to attend to, and Erwin took his leave from the group with a stern nod, leaving to greet Pixis and Nile where they were talking politely with some bloated, red-faced nobles.
The evening passed in endless addresses. Erwin flattered his way around the room, speaking humbly with innumerable men, smiling and taking their backhanded compliments with grace while pushing another drink into their greedy hands.
Over the shoulders of one stout man with yellow teeth and breath like tobacco, Erwin caught sight of Mike, dutifully nodding his head as a gaggle of older women flocked around him. He panned his gaze around, searching for his two missing soldiers, until his eyes landed on Hange where they stood near a corner of the room, engaged in awkward looking conversation with a lanky man who seemed to share Hange's usual sentiments about personal space. He was taller than Hange, but had stooped until their faces were close, and in both of his hands he held one of Hange's, stroking over their knuckles as he talked. Hange had a forced smile on their face, but even from this distance Erwin could see the strain in their neck, the tightness in their face, their free hand white-knuckling a fist full of their dress at their side.
Erwin had known Hange long enough to understand the concentrated effort with which they were holding back. He would have to thank them later, for not causing a scene, but he could have hardly blamed them if they had. As he watched, the man brought one hand up to Hange's hair, following a loose curl from the crown of their head, past their cheek, and to their shoulder, where his fingertips danced lightly at their collar. Hange's face was pale in their anger, and Erwin was mentally preparing the kind of speeches he'd have to give to excuse Hange's indiscretion, when a figure appeared at their side offering a glass of champagne. Erwin's brows rose.
Levi had come out of nowhere. He pressed the glass insistently at Hange, who quickly pulled both of their hands free to take it. Their admirer looked sufficiently displeased by the interruption, straightening to his full height and looking down his nose at Levi. Levi stared back impassively, gaze unwavering as Hange spoke, gesturing towards Levi, and Erwin watched with some smug satisfaction as introductions were made, and the sleazy old man realised exactly who had joined their conversation.
He stuck around for only a moment, before taking his leave. Hange watched him go, then visibly sagged in place, taking a long gulp from the delicate flute and bringing their hand up to their throat. Levi said something that made Hange laugh. Their smile was small and the shake of their shoulders was slight, but it was genuine. Levi slapped weakly at Hange's hand—they had been scratching again, the skin of their neck red and irritated. He took the champagne flute from their hand and drank the rest, depositing the empty glass on a nearby table and pulling a face, running his tongue over his teeth. Hange laughed again, a little brighter this time, some delight reflected in their face as they watched Levi's twisted expression, and when Levi said something that looked suspiciously like piss off, they laughed loud enough that Erwin could just hear it. Levi nudged at Hange's ribs with his elbow and Hange grabbed onto his arm, wriggling away. When Levi stopped his prodding, Hange didn't let go of him. And then the crowd shifted, a throng of men heading towards the bar, obscuring Levi and Hange from his view.
Huh.
That was interesting.
Levi had been with them for just over two years now. He had opened up very little in that time, remained almost as stoic and distant as he had been when he had first been recruited. He spoke little, and what conversation he did make was always rude and often perfunctory, coaxed into short, one-word answers or non-committal grunts. He dealt with Erwin because he had to. He tolerated Mike due to proximity alone—where Erwin went, Mike was never far behind.
His forbearance of Hange was more confusing.
There was no real need for them to spend much time together. Outside of meetings and events like these, compulsory gatherings where Erwin preferred to bring his most trusted subordinates, the pair of them were never required to be in each other's company. He'd had no doubt that Hange would be pushy; they were fascinated by Levi and had been since the beginning, keen to observe as much as they could, to understand and employ whatever technique it was that allowed Levi to move so quickly, to fight so efficiently. He had been unsurprised to see Hange hovering around Levi shortly after their first mission together—"like a fly on horse shit," Levi had said—and it had been no shock to him at all that Levi's dismissal had fallen on deaf ears.
But time had passed, and despite Levi's constant grumbles and complaints, seeing the two of them together had become an increasingly familiar sight.
Things weren't always amiable. There was a lot of bickering, loud disagreements where Hange would whinge and push and prod and Levi's anger would build until he was steaming, and there had on one occasion been a physical fight, the kind of feral scuffling in the dirt usually reserved for children. Erwin had broken that up himself after battling to the centre of a watching crowd, and the pair of them had sat down across from him at his desk, their faces resolutely turned in opposite directions, their hair and clothes coated in dusty, dry soil, with  swelling bruises on their cheeks and split skin on their knuckles. They pointed fingers, each laying the blame squarely on the other, and neither had admitted the root cause. Erwin eventually dismissed them with a headache, and demanded that whatever their issue was, they resolve it—civilly. He had wholly expected another scrap, but had been pleasantly surprised at finding the pair of them sitting together in the mess hall that evening—they were arguing about Hange's ludicrous notion to capture a titan when he had passed them, Levi jabbing his fork at Hange's hand when they slyly reached for his bread, but there was a familiar light in Hange's eyes, one that told him this argument, at least for now, was not serious.
Erwin had been pleasantly surprised to see a similar expression reflected on Levi's usually flat, stoic face. He had ripped his bread loaf in two, and dropped half of it silently onto Hange's plate as he told them, "for the last damn time, no."
Levi afforded Hange for more leniency than he did to anybody else. He would pull a face when Hange threw an arm around his shoulder, but he never pushed them away anymore. He'd grumble if Hange dropped next to him on Erwin's sofa and wriggled their does under his thighs for warmth, curse them for putting their dirty feet on the furniture, but it had been a long time now since Levi had knocked their feet back to the floor. He would badger them relentlessly about their greasy hair or the dirt under their nails, and in the same breath he would tug on their ponytail, his fingers sinking easily into the knotted, unkempt hair.
And now, this—Levi barely tolerated using communal utensils, opting often to clean his own cutlery before eating. To drink directly from the same glass as anyone, let alone Hange, who Levi notoriously butted heads with over their personal hygiene, was unimaginable. And yet.
Erwin was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of his name, and turned back to his companion, falling easily into conversation once more.
The evening dragged on. The sky outside the great windows was full dark, the stone fountain pale in the moonlight. The water shimmered, dark and spotted with the light from the stars. Erwin's throat was dry and sore from talking, but he felt satisfied—he had secured plenty of meetings to negotiate funding, enough that he wasn't all too worried that they would inevitably lose a few offers when the alcohol wore off.
He found Mike near the bar, finally alone. Erwin crossed to him and greeted him with a nod, ordering a drink and leaning against the bar beside Mike to enjoy it.
"Calling it a success?" Mike asked. Erwin hummed.
"I think so. I'll wait until we are safely back at the barracks before I say for certain."
Mike snorted quietly into his glass. He was sipping from a glass of fragrant whiskey, something deep and smoky. Erwin took another mouthful from his water.
"And you?" Erwin asked. "Would you call it a successful evening?"
Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "A very lovely lady left me her address. She insisted I write to her."
Erwin's lip quirked. He hid it behind his glass. "Will you?"
Mike shrugged. "Maybe. I figure she might leave me a big fat inheritance if I do."
Erwin chuckled, and looked about the room.
The crowd had thinned some, and those who remained spoke in loud, slurred voices that sounded over the lazy music played by the band. They stood around in small clusters, picking at the plentiful food and chugging down their drinks, bellies swollen behind shirts bursting at the seams. Pigs ready for slaughter, if it weren't for the work of people like them, who put their lives on the line for humanity every time they set foot into titan territory.
Mike elbowed him. Erwin hummed, and Mike nodded his head towards a corner of the room. "How's that for a success?"
Many of the candles in the chandelier had gone out, leaving the room with a smoky haze and the lights lower than before, a warm orange glow that barely reached the corners. Hange had sat themself on the corner of one of the tables, their feet dangling a little way off the floor as they drank from another glass of champagne. Their shawl had been replaced with Levi's jacket, buttoned just over their chest to cover them, and they had kicked off their shoes, bare feet swinging back and forth as they drank. Their hair had been thrown up into its customary ponytail, messy and shaggy at the back of their head. They looked much more like Hange, more relaxed, more comfortable.
Levi stood close beside them, his hip cocked against the table edge, Hange's shawl folded neatly and draped over his arm. The pair of them were talking between themselves, observing the room—Hange kept snickering, and Levi kept hiding his own smile with his champagne glass. Both of their cheeks were flushed pink, noticeable even with the distance. Hange twisted their head to look at Levi, still laughing, and reached up idly to fuss with his hair. Levi continued talking to Hange as though they hadn't touched him, his eyes glued to their face as they broke into a loud, tinkling laugh, the kind that carried like windchimes over the rest of the noise. Levi's eyes were a little wide, brows relaxed out of his customary frown, and his lips were a little parted as he stared openly at Hange.
"You think he knows he looks at Hange like they put the sun in the sky?" Mike said. Erwin laughed and shook his head.
Whatever Hange said next must have been teasing. Their lips spread in a sly smile, showing teeth, and their eyes pinched behind their glasses. They leaned a little further into Levi's space, and Erwin noticed Hange's leg drift sideways, their toes brushing against Levi's calf. Whatever Hange said made Levi grimace, but he put no distance between them. One of his hands settled on Hange's knee as he leaned even closer, and the other came up between their faces to pinch at Hange's nose. He shook their face back and forth until Hange brought their hands up and wrapped them around Levi's wrist. Levi relinquished his hold, and Hange lowered their hands down into their lap, playing with Levi's fingers as they fell back into conversation.
Levi put no distance between them. Erwin and Mike watched the pair of them, watched as Levi swayed even further into Hange's space, his fringe brushing against Hange's brow. Hange was watching him curiously, their head tipped a little to one side—Levi initiating any kind of proximity must have been new, even to Hange, but they didn't seem at all bothered by his closeness.
Mike let out a low whistle. "Little street rat has a soft spot."
Erwin gave Mike a warning look, and Mike raised his hand in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. Just surprised to see the captain has feelings, is all."
"It's that hard to believe?" Erwin said. "He cared a lot about his friends, too. He has a heart."
"Somewhere."
Erwin rolled his eyes. Levi and Hange were still standing close, and Levi looked very much like he was debating something in his head. His eyes flicked over Hange's face, and his fingers curled slowly around Hange's, gripping one of their hands in his. Erwin found himself holding his breath, watching them, waiting with a childishly eager anticipation. As their superior, Erwin certainly shouldn't encourage interpersonal relationships between his soldiers—but they were his friends, too. If they could afford themselves a moment of happiness in this hellish world, Erwin wouldn't stop them. Not for one night.
And then Hange's eyes flicked their way. They grinned widely, turning their face and lifting a hand to wave enthusiastically across the room. Unthinking of their attire, Hange bent a knee up and braced one of their heels on the table edge, exposing entirely too much skin to the remaining patrons in the room.
Erwin waved calmly back. Mike raised his glass. Levi stepped out of Hange's space, pausing only to pull a face and silently drape Hange's shawl over their lap, to cover them where the dress had ridden up their leg. He slipped his hand out of Hange's and jammed it instead into his pocket, and shook his fringe over his eyes, looking at Erwin and Mike through it. His scowl was back in place, but the colour in his cheeks had intensified.
Hange spoke to Levi, then hopped off the table grabbed his hand again, turning backwards to keep a hold of his hand as he bunched up their shawl and scooped to pick up Hange's shoes, dangling them from his fingers as Hange dragged him barefoot across the ballroom floor. Levi followed behind, caught helplessly in Hange's wake. In the middle of the floor Hange paused, and turned to him so quickly the hem of their dress rose, twirling around their legs. Whatever they said made Levi shake his head, and then shake it again, more firmly, but Hange laughed that bright, tinkling laughter and held the skirt of their dress in their spare hand, dipping into an exaggerated curtsey. Erwin wasn't sure what had done it, whether it was the alcohol or the jacket covering them up, or perhaps it was simply the presence of good company, but Hange was behaving more like themself again, bubbly and alive, and Levi was as ever their hopeless victim, cringing when Hange spun themself down the length of his arm, paused briefly with their body pressed tight against his chest, and then back out again, teetering on their toes to keep their balance. 
They tried valiantly to coax Levi into a few off-beat steps, moving to a rhythm Erwin couldn’t identify. They smile was bright, their face pleasantly read, and they were wholly unbothered by Levi’s lack of commitment. Levi looked at them sternly, but the threat of it was lost in the bright red flush of his cheeks.
"You're no fun, Levi!" They whined, close enough now that Erwin could hear them. Levi clicked his tongue.
"You're acting like an idiot."
"I'm having fun," Hange said, tugging on Levi's hand. "You should try it! You might like it."
"Brat."
Hange grinned as though he had complimented them. Levi's lips twitched, but he held back any urge to smile and curled his lip in a snarl instead, hitting Hange's leg lightly with their shoes and urging them to start walking again. Hange saluted him and together they crossed the rest of the distance and stopped before Erwin and Mike. Hange kept a casual hold on Levi's hand and Levi made no move to part from them, but he glared at Mike and Erwin as though daring them to say something. Mike smirked, and Levi flushed deeper, but his grip tightened around Hange's fingers.
"Are we done?" Hange asked. Erwin nodded. "Good. My feet are killing me—who the hell designed shoes like? And I’m tired of creepy old men—which reminds me,” Hange reached into the top of their dress and pulled out a handful of napkins, which they handed over to Erwin. “These perverts seemed pretty eager to spare a pretty penny for a nice young lady like myself.” Hange pulled a face as they said it. “I can't wait to get this dress off."
Erwin noted with interest the way Levi's eyes slid to Hange, roving down the length of their body and up again.
Mike downed the last of his drink. "Finally," he said, stretching and following as Erwin led them towards the door.
"Tired after wagging your tail for all those grandma's?"
Hange snickered, and Levi's mouth pulled into half a smile. Mike, unaffected by the jab, only grinned.
"Exhausted. What about you, though? Eager to head back and pop some pain killers?"
"Hah?"
Mike's grin widened. He leaned closer to Levi, and Erwin had to strain his ears to hear him.
"I heard being whipped hurts."
This time, Levi did let go of Hange's hand. Quickly.
There was a carriage waiting for them outside. Erwin took the stairs quickly, eager to sit and rest for the duration of the journey back to the barracks. He opened the door and turned, waiting to let the others in, but only Mike was behind him. Levi and Hange were still at the top of the stairs, Hange holding Levi's shoulders for balance as they slipped back into their shoes. Their face was curled in a pained grimace as they descended the stairs and Levi was watching them closely, one of his hands hovering at their back. Mike looked delighted as they approached, and took great pleasure in offering Hange his hand to help them into the carriage before Levi could. He climbed in and sat beside Hange, leaving Levi to take the seat opposite them. Once they were seated, Erwin knocked on the box, and the driver urged the horses on.
Hange sighed loudly. They kicked off their shoes again, and dumped their feet into Levi's lap.
"Oi," Levi said, though there was no malice behind it. Hange wiggled their toes until Levi closed his hand around Hange's foot, thumb digging into the arch with practiced ease. Hange sighed happily and slumped in their seat.
Mike made a show of sniffing the air, and pulled a face. "Smells weird in here."
"Like what?" Hange asked sluggishly. They had let their eyes drift closed as Levi worked absently on their foot, the buzz from the champagne mellowing in the darkness of the cab.
Mike sniffed again. "Horny teenagers."
Levi's ministrations paused briefly, thumb and fingers stilling until Hange made an impatient sound and lifted their foot, shaking it in his face.
"Fuck off," he hissed, but continued. Hange poked out their tongue and gave him a satisfied grin, then rolled their head towards Mike.
"I think your nose is broken," Hange said. "'S probably just my feet."
"They do reek," Levi added. Hange sunk right the way down in their seat and pushed both feet at Levi's face this time, dodging his grabbing hands and wrestling with him when he caught ahold of them, until he slammed both of their feet back into his lap, victorious, and pinned them down by the ankles. Hange's face was a little flushed from the exertion and their laughter was breathless. Levi looked a little triumphant, eyes alight with something like humour.
Levi was having fun.
Erwin tipped his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.
"I don't know, Hange," he said, smiling. "I think Mike might be onto something."  
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twstedwithyuu · 6 months ago
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WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT HE’S REALLY HANDSOME, EXCUSE ME? WAIT WAIT
(under the cut: mod answering asks that are being sent while this post is fresh!)
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understandable.... UNDERSTANDABLE.... i wasn’t expecting someone THIS handsome i’m in AWE? kendo.... he does kendo.... that’s.... very good...... you go boy....... i support you
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according to my understanding, the heartslabyul manga got leaked, or something? well, either way, pictures are out on tumblr of the MC for the manga! you can find him if you search “twst yuuken” into tumblr’s search bar! when i googled it, i just got the usual fanmade MCs SO search for him on tumblr!
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he definitely has protagonist vibes.... i know in my heart he won’t become his ultimate form: harem protag-kun BUT he’s an absolute winner in my dreams and i hope he finds happiness AND ALSO lands himself a boyfriend oR FIVE..
whether they’re his smooch-boyfriends or just his literal boy-friends or neither or both is up to him but i believe in yuu supremacy thanks for coming out tonight y’all
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you can take home your winnings with your head held high because DEARIE ME he’s good-looking... are people going to write fanfiction now? people are already drawing him with their MCs, it’s only a matter of time... goodness, what a thing to wake up to
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yes, you do that! you katamari damacy them!! you roll up those screaming plebeians and throw them into the cosmos!!!! mod supports you!!!!!!
mod just realized that mod usually talks pretty formally in messages and now in this post where mod just woke up, mod’s true form is coming to light...... ah, if you could, perhaps you could roll mod up to throw into the cosmos as well..?
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donestiel · 5 months ago
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challenge: from your creations, choose gifs and do a split of before and after adding your colouring!
i was tagged by @alivedean @mishha @casjpg @becauseofthebowties & @holmesemrys thank you so much, my loves! ♥♥♥
general: so i have a few different base psds that i created for different versions of the show’s colouring (mostly dependent on seasons) and i fuck around and find out from there. mostly i need to adjust and play around with exposure, colour balance, levels and vibrancy.
tagging @inacatastrophicmind @forthiswholeworld @captain-flint @some-people-call-it-tragic @seraphcastiel @klinejack @smiledean @winchester-gospels @valleydean and @magnoliadean​ (obviously feel free to ignore this if you’ve already been tagged and/or don’t actually want to do this)
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capriciouswriter207 · 13 days ago
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In the hot Pixandrian sun, next to the Vigil, stood the statue of its ruler. Pixlriffs, in royal robes, his arm raised in defense. It depicts how the Copper King protects his people from a higher threat. Apart from the Vigil, it was only thing that seemed untouched by the recent destruction of the empire; unbroken amidst the ruins.
The Pixandrians swear they remember the statue has always been there. Statues don’t appear out of nowhere, and even the oldest of citizens claim the statue had always had a place in their capital city. Now, it was the last thing left of their great King, who had vanished without a trace.
Nobody sees the tears he cries, wondering if anyone would notice, if anyone would free him from this stone prison.
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zukkaoru · 6 days ago
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hello all! today is the one year anniversary of me posting plum blossom aka my first oneshot to cross not only the 10k word mark but also the 20k word mark. it's also still holding it's spot as my most popular fic by both hits and kudos and it genuinely stuns me that something that started out as a silly little idea i had right after watching boiling rock is still getting reads and kudos
so anyways, to celebrate one year and to thank everyone who has read and left kudos/comments on it, may i offer you a little snippet from the Sokka POV rewrite i started shortly after posting plum blossom and never ended up finishing?👀💞
(it starts during the white lotus meeting when toph takes zuko to talk to jeong-jeong)
“Gossip doesn’t suit you,” Pakku states. His voice is steady, but underlined with a harshness Sokka doesn’t like. “It doesn’t do well to talk about the Fire Lord behind his back.”
“He’s my nephew,” Iroh replies in the same calm but also somehow harsh tone. “I would not ask you to refrain from ever speaking of your family when they are elsewhere.” Iroh sips his tea.
He and Pakku stare at each other in silence until Jeong-Jeong returns, trailed by Zuko and Toph. Jeong-Jeong and Zuko both look shaken up while Toph looks proud of herself.
“Thanks for letting us interrupt the Old Man Meeting!” Toph says.
Sokka tries to meet Zuko’s gaze, but his eyes are unfocused, almost glazed over. As Toph shoves him out the door, Sokka jumps up and follows them. Pakku tries to pretest, but Piandao silences him.
“Wait, Zuko!”
Zuko tenses, but once his eyes focus on Sokka, he relaxes.
“I just wanted to say bye.”
Zuko smiles. “Oh. Right. Sorry for showing up unannounced - Toph kind of neglected to mention you might be here.” He steps closer, and Sokka knows that means he wants to hug Sokka. Sokka, of course, obliges and pulls Zuko into a hug. Zuko’s breathing is shaky, but that’s to be expected with how off he’s looked since he and Toph first showed up. There’s something bothering him, but Sokka doesn’t want to pry. Not yet, at least. Not right now.
Instead, he just whispers, “I know we just saw each other a few days ago, but I’ve missed you.”
Zuko’s arms tighten around Sokka. “I missed you too.”
--
Sokka is studying the swords hanging on Piandao’s wall while he waits for Pakku to finish discussing whatever with Jeong-Jeong, when Toph bursts in through the door. She looks frantic beyond belief, and almost like she’s been crying.
“Are Sokka and Iroh still here?”
Sokka’s blood runs cold. Something is very, very, wrong.
Sokka feels a firm hand on his shoulder, which he realizes belongs to Iroh. “What is it, Toph?”
“It’s Zuko.”
“What?” Sokka cries. He doesn’t even care about what everyone else will think at this point. Toph never calls anyone by their actual names. Zuko is always ‘Sparky’ or ‘Fire Lord Hotman’ if she wants to mix it up. “Toph, what happened?!”
Toph shakes her head. “Not here.”
Sokka can’t get out of the house fast enough, but Toph waits until she, Sokka, and Iroh are seated outside and she’s sure no one else is listening in before she speaks.
“He passed out,” she starts. “He wanted to visit Azula--” she must feel Sokka tense, because she quickly adds, “it wasn’t Azula’s fault, though! He was really persistent on visiting her once we left the meeting, though, and you know how he gets. But anyways, he passed out while he was talking to her, and he--” Toph seems to have an internal battle with herself for a moment. “He’s fine now. That’s what the doctors told me. But I really think you two should stay in the palace, or at least the Fire Nation, so he can talk to you once he wakes up. ...I think he has some really important things he wants to say to both of you.”
Iroh nods. “I do believe that would be best. Sokka, I am sure Pakku will inform your family of your change of plans.”
Sokka comprehends what Iroh says, but he can’t figure out how to respond. His voice isn’t quite working, and he doesn’t even know if he can nod. The only thing he can think is Zuko.
“Snoozles, come on,” Toph says.
“Your eyes are red,” is what he ends up telling her.
“My eyes are white,” she snaps. “I’m blind.”
“No. You were crying. What happened, Toph?!” It takes everything in Sokka to not reach forward and grip Toph’s shirt. She would just throw rocks at his head or something if he tried that.
“I told you! He passed out!”
“TOPH.”
“Fine!” She crosses her arms. “Fine. It’s kind of, sort of, possible he passed out because he couldn’t breathe. I don’t-- he just--”
“Couldn’t breathe?” Sokka feels like he can’t breathe. “Couldn’t breathe?” he stands up. “Will they let me see him?”
--
Toph must realize that there’s no way Sokka will sleep unless he can at least see Zuko, so she all but barges them into the hospital where Azula was put and the doctors point them towards an infirmary room. It’s empty except for the bed Zuko’s lying in and a waterbender standing at his side. As soon as the door opens, the waterbender looks up. She starts, rearranges Zuko’s blankets, and then makes her way out of the room. She drops something in the trash can on her way out.
Sokka rushes over to Zuko.
He’s lying on his back, and his face is paler than it should be, but he’s breathing. Sokka can see his chest clearly rising and falling, though it does seem a bit unsteady.
“What aren’t you guys telling me?” Sokka asks. He doesn’t look back at Toph and Iroh; just keeps staring at Zuko. Like if he looks away, Zuko’s breathing will stop.
“It’s not our place to say.” Toph’s words echo Iroh’s from earlier. There’s something going on with Zuko, something that both Toph and Iroh know about.
And Sokka won’t lie, it kind of stings that Zuko hasn’t told him. He just spent several days in the Fire Nation, and there were plenty of instances where the two of them were alone with each other. Zuko should know he can tell Sokka anything.
But Zuko isn’t good at talking about himself. Sokka knows this. Iroh and Toph tend to find things out, whether you tell them or not. Toph has her seismic senses to alert her when anyone’s heartbeat is even slightly off and Iroh might as well be able to read minds with how he figures things out about people. So Sokka shouldn’t be hurt, but he still wants to know why Zuko didn’t talk to him.
Sokka reaches forward and brushes a strand of hair out of Zuko’s face.
--
+ bonus: after zuko confesses
And it makes sense now, why Zuko didn’t turn to Sokka. And why Iroh and Toph were so adamant about not telling Sokka the full truth. He can’t even be mad, really, because there’s nothing to be mad or hurt about. Except maybe Ozai raising Zuko to think he was worthless, but Sokka can dwell on that later. And if he accidentally wanders into the prison where Ozai is being held captive and accidentally punches him in the face, that is absolutely nobody’s business at all.
“What are you thinking?” Zuko asks. He’s rubbing his thumb over the back of Sokka’s hand.
“About how a lot of things suddenly make a lot of sense.” Sokka leans forward and presses his forehead against Zuko’s. “Also about how I really want to kiss you again.”
Zuko doesn’t say anything; he just tilts his head enough so he can press his lips against Sokka’s. Sokka sighs into the kiss and he feels Zuko smile. Sokka brings a hand up to Zuko’s hair, running his fingers through it. He could honestly stay like this forever.
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sobsicles · 3 months ago
Correct me if I'm wrong but did Dead die knowing that he'd either be destined for the Empty or heaven, which from his knowledge is a replay of your best moments? Either way, he'd be reunited with Cas in some manner. It's not enough of course, but he'd rather have that than no Cas at all. Gods, they deserved a happier ending.
dean's dead?
#bestie that can't be right. hm...#say it aint so. take it back rn.#on a serious note#why would you point this out to me? cant you tell by now that this is the kind of thing that will make me spiral?#okay but no. the thing is. THE THING IS#dean being so goddamn ready to go bc he's pretty sure he's going to heaven right? he's like 'well at least ill have my happiest memories'#and hes like 'and ill have cas. ill get cas back'#and then he gets there and bobby is like 'so turns out heaven is pretty chill these days and you'll see everyone when they get here'#and dean's just like ??? are u fucking kidding me??? this is NOT what i ordered. put it back!!!!#lmao just intrigued and amused and also aching about the idea of dean getting to heaven and being devastated bc he cant have cas#like even knowing that cas is there. but like. its the actual cas and no he can't have him bc he's the reason cas is dead.#so he cant have actual cas (in his mind) and he cant have the memories#and its like 'wtf did i even die for??? i miss sam! wtf is wrong with me'#and then he kinda has to come to terms with the fact that he should have gotten a much much MUCH kinder ending wayyyyyy later than he did.#so now hes bitter over that too.#really. the writers of spn did not think the heaven plotline through at all#bc there are so many steaming pile of problems that it's insane. like. put aside all the shit with cas right?#just j*hn winchester alone being there is like. huge issue. gonna BECOME a huge issue.#wait yall ive written this fic before#lemme shut up and go back to living in the world where dean is not dead#because he isn't#dean bean#destiel#sobs says things#nonnie
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