#This song is going to be played at my funeral because I'm going to die listening to it.

[maruren]

Me and new GokuLuck song literally Untranslatable high-pitch cat noises

It's five in the morning, my neighbors won't know what sweet dreams are today because I'm going to listen to this forever

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy, Miscommunication Trope

Word Count: 13.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Talks of Death, DENIAL, Idiots in Love, Pining by the Reader (and SB, but he won't admit it) Depressing Thoughts, Mentions of sexual assault/rape (not detailed at all, really just in passing) Talks about weed, Sexist comments, Ben makes derogatory comments, Threatening Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

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A/N: I am so sorry this one took me a bit longer. The writers block was fighting me the whole way, but we are very closely nearing the end of this series and the moment the reader and Ben stop being so stinkin' stubborn.

Reader POV

You lean your forehead against the cool window, watching the world flash by in a flurry of color. The wooded forests had vanished hours ago and all that was left were the yellowed sprawling fields of corn and grain and family farms that were laid sporadically along the interstate. Each one a little world that caught the flecks of golden sunlight as the sun began to peak above the horizon.

The bus rolled smooth and steady over the weathered pavement towards it's destination and was filled with an odd assortment of people young and old. There was man with a brightly colored parrot that had been singing "It's A Small World After All" since you left NYC, a woman with a little boy playing with an iPad and who refused to turn down the volume no matter how many times his mother asked him to, a group of teenagers a few seats up that continued to pass around a flask, and due to how far back you were sitting on the bus an uncomfortable smell emanated from the bathroom each time the door was opened.

But you didn't notice any of it.

The only thing on your mind were the events that happened almost twenty hours ago. They continued to circle your mind, playing over and over again like a perverted cassette tape making you sink further into the worn cloth covered seat at the back of the bus. The images were haunting, some new and some old, but all the more still horrible to re-live.

The song "Nights In White Satin" floating into the backseat of your family's car, the flash of unnatural light you knew was never lightning, the caskets at your parent's funeral covered in flowers that were much to pretty to lay on something so morbid, Elijah's body succumbing to the poppies that ripped him apart, the proud sneer on your brother's face when he admitted to killing your parents, Darren's broken and bloodied body strewn in pieces over the street with the creature standing over him with a dripping red maw, the ruined building that housed "Please Don't Die" reduced to nothing more than rubble, and the look on Ben's face when you turned your back on him and fled the scene.

For some reason that particular image seemed to cling on to you and refused to fade. You'd never seen him look that way, almost… helpless and a little fearful. In all the time you'd known him, Ben had never looked at you that way. Sure you'd seen him proud, angry, cocky, lustful, mischievous, but never fearful. And you were sure that it wasn't an emotion that he was used to feeling, but that begged the question… why?

Why was he looking at me like that? Why wouldn't he let me go? And what was he afraid of?

The creature curled in your lap snorts something in it's sleep, turning it’s head further into the cradle of your elbow to shut out the brilliant early morning sunlight. It was now the size of a toaster and had warranted several odd looks whenever you got off to change buses, but you didn't care.

You weren't sure about anything anymore. Everything your brother confessed to you made you feel like you were living a lie and the revelation of exactly what your powers could do- take life from plants to heal yourself, create whatever the hell it was on your lap, and speak to plants… it scared you.

You thought for so long that you knew everything about your powers, that you were in control, but now you weren't sure.

You felt different, as if something had unlocked deep down that you couldn't shut up again.

You'd felt different after you killed Elijah, but this was more alive, weaving and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You felt more connected to the earth, to the world outside the bus even though you were divided by glass and metal. You could feel the energy that thrummed through the body of the creature on your lap, bending to your will, the life force of the plants it was formed from molding with you, becoming a part of you.

You felt so different than the person you had been before Darren entered the shop, so uncertain, and there was only one place you wanted to be when you felt like this… home. You couldn't wait to run up the worn front steps of your grandmother's house and into her arms. She always knew what to say in times like this.

And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.

The phone in your pocket buzzes again and you flip the screen to see the ridiculous selfie Annie and you had taken on Halloween last year. The one that you'd both spent dressed up as the two brothers from your favorite paranormal tv show. It wasn't the first time she'd called. Annie had called and texted you more times than you could count over the past twenty hours but you didn't answer her. You didn’t want to.

It was the first time that you didn't want to talk to her, but talking to her meant that you'd have to re-live all of it again and you were clawing at the last shred of sanity you had left to keep it together.

The overwhelming waves of emotion kept pummeling you, dragging you deeper beneath the white surf. Each one brought the memories of what happened surging over you and were followed by everything that Darren said to you. Years of taking care of Darren and doing whatever he wished were tearing at your soul, years of giving up little things in your life to make him happy, and years of taking care of a man who you thought cared about you, but hated you enough to kill your parents and try to kill you too.

It made your skin crawl. Each time your brother told you that he loved you was an even bigger lie and now that you knew the truth and saw him for what he was, it felt like you were drowning. The darkness that ebbed just on the edge was begging you to leap into the abyss, but you were resisting the best you could.

The tears had stopped falling miles ago, but you couldn't stop the memories or the emotion that formed a cold ball in the pit of your stomach.

A sigh works it's way up and you pull your legs on the seat underneath you, jostling the creature on your lap that raises it's head for a moment to blink it's black eyes at you sleepily.

It was surprisingly docile right now, especially considering that twenty hours ago it had ripped your brother to shreds. In fact it seemed to understand how upset you were and had spent the better part of the last twenty hours rubbing it's head against your arm as if trying to bring you some comfort. It was settled on your lap, the weight of it a comfort, almost like a weighted plushy that gave you something to focus on.

"It's alright buddy." You whisper, scratching him under his chin. "We're almost home."

The phone in your jacket pocket buzzes again, but when you pull it out to turn it off, you catch a glimpse of the screen, and you hesitate. Because this time it's not Annie who's calling, it’s Ben.

The picture that flashes on the screen under the contact name "Gramps" is the picture of Mr. Fredrickson from Up. It always made you smile whenever he called you and you saw the picture because Ben did often remind you of him. He was certainly just as grumpy as Mr. Fredrickson and just as out of touch, but you thought it was cute.

Your thumb hovers over the answer button and you think about talking to him.

But what would I say?

You weren't sure what to say to him, or why you wanted to speak to him so badly, why you wanted him to be sitting here on the bus with you as you went home, and why you wanted him to hold you against his chest while you allowed yourself to break, but you did. You wanted to feel his awkward shoulder pat and his awkward version of hand holding and you wanted to hear him try to tell you to "buck up" or whatever he thought that a comforting word should be.

He's really not the best at that.

You smile to yourself at the memory of how he tried to comfort you back at the hospital, but the longer you sit there and look down at the picture on the screen the worse you feel.

Maybe that scared you more than your newfound powers, how much you were realizing that you needed him, how much you depended on him when things got too much for you to bear. The memory of him appearing as soon as you needed him back at the shop, another of him grabbing Darren and throwing him into the street as soon as Darren insulted you comes in a flash, and finally followed by the memory of Ben carrying you out of Elijah's office while you curled into his chest. You couldn't remember too much from that moment, in fact you'd thought that Ben had kissed you on top of your head, but you ascribed that to the haze of pain you'd been in from your broken arm.

What you did remember was how wonderfully warm he was after you'd been trapped in that damn freezer and how nice it felt to be in his arms. Another memory of Ben sleeping on the couch at the hospital bubbles up and you feel something in your chest begin to crack open. And you try your best to tell yourself the same thing that you always do when you feel like Ben might care more about you that he was letting on.

Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear. He doesn't want a relationship. He's only wants one night, that's why he goes out with all those women-

You hesitate, thumb still hovering over the answer button as you do, the memory of the week you'd spent at the apartment with him flickering in the back of your mind. The week where he refused to leave you alone in the apartment, where he refused to do any jobs for Butcher, where he took care of you the best way he could, when he sat with you on the couch and made you laugh with his ridiculous movies, and the week where he hadn't had one date.

Your finger itched to answer the phone, but you couldn't, because you didn't want to feel this way about Ben, not when he'd told you countless times that you kept romanticizing him, not when he told you that he didn't want a relationship, and not when you could feel yourself beginning to fall for someone you thought was the wrong man.

For just a moment you tried to pretend that it was different, that he was different, but you didn't want to. It only made it hurt more.

The phone stops ringing, but the pit in your stomach still gapes open at you and for the first time in twenty hours you feel tears begin to fall. You didn't know why you were crying about this, why the thought of not picking up Ben's phone call seemed to hurt more than everything that had happened, but something made it hurt.

The bus driver announces over the overhead that you're reaching your final destination as he takes the exit for your hometown. The familiar buildings that line the streets are sheathed in a honeyed glow from the sun, the long shadow of the bus darkening them momentarily as it rumbles down the small streets to the bus station.

When it rumbles to a stop at the bus station you wait for everyone else to get off, trying to summon the strength to stand, and swipe the back of your hand across your face to rid yourself of the remaining tears.

The bus station was about a thirty minute walk from your grandmother's house, and you still hadn't called her. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to tell her that Darren was dead and that he was the reason why your parents were dead.

The creature crawls up your body to drape it's warm body over the back of your neck as you stand. It wasn't bothering to hide, besides the people in your hometown already thought that you were odd because you were a supe and you'd always welcomed it. You give him a scratch on top of his head and his warm tongue flicks on the bottom of your earlobe as if thanking you before it curls further into the side of your neck, seeking warmth.

The first few steps on solid ground are shaky, but you find the strength while taking in a deep cleansing breath of the outside world, letting the gentle warmth of the sun and the tickle of the autumn breeze pull at your coat. You hadn't stopped at your apartment before coming here, instead you had stumbled your way to the bus station covered in dust, flecked in blood, and demanded the first ticket back to Illinois. It was lucky that the next bus was leaving immediately, because you didn’t want to spend another second in NYC, not when all you wanted was to be home.

Plus you were worried that someone had recorded what exactly happened outside the plant shop and you didn't want to get arrested.

It was self defense anyway. Maybe Jake would represent me in court.

The thought of Jake makes you twinge. You hadn't checked to see if he was alright before you ran from the scene. Not to mention you'd destroyed the shop he'd put all his life savings into after he stopped being a lawyer.

Oh fuck, what if he sues me? He can't exactly sue Darren…

You hear someone call your name and you open your eyes.

Your grandmother is standing in front of the same baby blue pickup truck that she'd had longer than you've been alive, wearing a long multicolored skirt and a pressed white blouse tucked elegantly into it. Her silver hair is loose and long, curling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looks the same way she looked one week ago when she left, and you've never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

You're running before you can stop yourself, crumbling into her warm embrace, with more tears streaking down your face, but she doesn't mind.

"Shh. It's alright honey." She whispers, rubbing her hand over your back, her embrace steady and surprisingly strong. "Let's go home."

Her home is the same as it's always been. A two story Victorian house painted in a happy yellow shade, with a white wrap around porch and two white rocking chairs sitting empty on the front porch. You'd spent more nights than you could count rocking silently beside her with a crochet project in your lap listening to the rain fall and soak the world outside, while the plants sang praises with every gentle bend beneath the heavy droplets.

You could barely remember the home you spent in your early years with your parents, not when you'd spent most of your childhood spending the night here and after your parents died living here permanently. There was still a large oak tree were a wooden swing swung in the slight breeze on the left side of the yard, a gardenia bush that stretched as high as the second story on the right side of the house and brushed it's soft leaves against the sunshine colored outer walls, a garden filled with both flowering plants and herbs that perked up on both sides of the front yard as you walked up the path, and a cobblestone path that Annie and you had spent hours of your shared childhood covering in chalk art.

Neither of you were good, but when the rain would fall and smudge the clean lines, you'd jump in the puddles that pooled along the walkway singing the lyrics to ABBA's "Cassandra" not quite understanding what it meant.

Standing here outside your house made you miss Annie and feel worse about not calling or texting her back, but you didn't feel like talking about what happened and you were sure that Butcher filled her in. The only thing that you wanted was to collapse in your bedroom upstairs and curl under the comforters.

Despite everything the house was a welcome sight, but at the same time it was different. You could feel the plants calling out to you, asking for you, bending towards you just to touch your shoes as you walked by. You'd never felt so connected with them before, not even when you were in your apartment or working at the shop.  It was overwhelming.

And although a part of you was frightened by it, another part of you rejoiced in it. You didn't feel alone, didn't feel weak, and you knew that you never would ever again.

The creature nuzzled into the side of your neck with a sigh, soaking up the sun's healing rays as you walked up the front steps with your grandmother following behind you silently. She hadn't spoken since she picked you up at the bus station and you hadn't supplied anything in the ten minute car ride back to her house.

You didn't know where to start and you were still trying to process everything yourself.

The inside of her house was just as cozy and warm as it was the day you moved out. There were photos of your parents and you covering the walls (Darren's had been placed in the closet long ago), half-finished knitting projects sorted in different baskets on both the dining room table and the living room coffee table, spools of yarn were strewn over the couch sorted by color, and the fresh smell of gardenia wafted through the open windows on the breeze.

It was home. This was what you'd been missing the moment everything began to crash over you, but as you stood there in the familiar living room it felt like something was missing. Something tugged at the back of your mind, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

There was something or rather someone that should be here, but you didn't know what or who. And your mind supplied Annie, but you weren't sure that's who you meant.

"Let's have some tea." Your grandmother says from behind you and you feel her soft hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the familiar creative chaos and into the large kitchen at the back of the house.

The kitchen isn't spared from the madness, it rarely was. There are boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter, dirty bowls and a measuring cup stacked in the sink, and a large opened bag of chocolate chips spilling over the flour covered kitchen island.

It wasn't unusual to find the kitchen or the house in a state of chaos, your grandmother always said that a house should look lived in and that the mess was part of the fun of any major project as long as you were responsible enough to clean it up.

"Bake sale?" You ask as you sit down in the breakfast nook, uttering the first words that you'd said to another human being in twenty hours.

The next breath that you inhale was supposed to be cleansing, but you can still feel a weight pressing down on your chest, the same one that settled in the moment everything happened with Darren.

You contemplate again how you're going to tell her that Darren is dead and was the reason why your parents died.

Damn it Darren.

"Mhmm." She hums, filling the well used red kettle. "Annie's mother practically cornered me in the supermarket yesterday and begged me to make cookies. I love Annie, but her mother needs someone to pull that stick out of her ass. It's been up there for so long that I'm sure it's rotten."

The creature crawls down from your shoulders and down your arm to sniff at one of the chocolate chip cookies nearest you. It hadn't eaten since…

Darren.

You wince slightly at the thought and hope that you hadn't created something that needed and craved human flesh. The last thing you wanted to unleash on the world was Audry two especially in the wake of Homelander.

Truthfully you were waiting for the guilt at killing your brother to come, but it never had and you wondered if it ever would.

Probably not. He deserved that, he killed our parents, he tried to kill me, he tried to kill Ben.

The thought of Ben again makes a lump form in the back of your throat. You didn't know what was happening to you only that you felt guilty for leaving him like that, for yelling at him to let you go, and just vanishing on him when he probably thought that you were going back to the apartment.

He doesn't know where I am. Maybe that's why he tried to call, because he got back to the apartment and couldn't find me there and he was worried. You press your lips together. Yeah. Worried. Right.

"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice

You look up from the box of chocolate chip cookies that you didn't remember picking up. Even the creature is looking at you with an expression that you can only explain as worry.

"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.

She's leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, head tilted slightly to the side, her beautiful grayed hair pulled up in an elegant bun, but in her eyes you can see genuine concern. "Fuck." She sighs after a minute.

You blink in surprise. It was the first time that you'd ever heard her say that word in your entire life.

"I shouldn't have left." She breathes. "I told Ben to look out for you. I told him, that little bastard was bound to show up again and what did he do? He left you at that plant shop alone with no protection!"

You'd only seen her really angry a handful of times in your lifetime. Like you, your grandmother often had a gentle disposition and didn't get angry unless the situation called for it.

I mean, Darren admitted to killing our parents and then got fucking ripped apart. But how does she know about any of that? I haven't told her…

"How did you know that he left me there? Did Ben call you?" You ask putting down the box of cookies.

An odd expression crosses her face, as if she's contemplating something. "No." She hesitates again. "I saw it."

"No." Your grandmother hesitates. "I saw it."

"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.

What's going on?

"Too late of course, but I'm a little rusty. I was able to warn Ben that Darren was coming back. That's how he got there so quickly or rather-" She shrugs sheepishly. "He got there in time to make sure that Darren didn't get you to forgive him. Which you shouldn't have at all, but I know he's always had a talent for manipulating you."

"What?"

Is she saying what I think she's saying?

Instead of explaining further your grandmother walks out of the kitchen, leaving the kettle behind on the stove and you in a state of utter confusion.

Is she saying that she can see the future? Because that would mean that she's a supe and there's only one supe in history that I know of that can do that. A supe that no one has seen in over forty years.

You can hear her open the door to the closet under the stairs and the sound of her sifting through all the junk that the two of you had shoved in there over the years instead of finding the right place to put it.

When she comes back into the kitchen, she's holding a giant cardboard file box that you'd never paid attention to each time you opened the closet to find something. Your eyes shift from the box to her still not comprehending exactly what she was saying.

"I probably should have told you this a while ago, but…" She trails off and nods her head at the box before turning back to the kettle on the stove that has begun to scream. "I kept putting it off."

The box is old, worn at the edges, and theres a musty black fabric beneath a collection of yellowed photographs. You pull out the one on top to examine it.

Ben is standing there in his full Soldier Boy regalia outside of Vought tower and the woman standing next to him is Soothsayer. The outfit she wore was familiar, a black-skin tight suit with a blind fold tied over her eyes.

Soothsayer was a supe who could see the future and who was apart of Payback, a supe that had vanished a year before the mission in Nicaragua and no one knew where she went. There were rumors that she'd died and that she'd been a Russian spy, but you'd never believed them. You'd heard Butcher talk about how he tried to find her when he was trying to figure out what happened to Soldier Boy, but he never had. Said that the trail went cold.

But now you knew where she went, because she was standing directly in front of you.

She's Soothsayer? Holy fuck that's why Ben kept accusing her of cheating in the poker game because he knew that she could see the future.

"You were Soothsayer?" You gasp. "But why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"

She continues to measure the tea leaves. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Grandpa didn't know? But he was alive when you were a supe?"

Your grandfather had never spoken about a history with supes that you remember.

"No." She turns to look at you, a hurt expression crossing over her face for a minute. "Well, I know that I said I was going to have tea, but if we're going to talk about this I'm going to need something a little bit stronger."

Your grandmother opens a cabinet under the stove an pulls out an enormous bottle of scotch. Truth be told you'd never seen her drink more than just a glass of wine, to see her like this was about as shocking as seeing a polar bear sunning itself on a Florida beach.

"Do you still want the blueberry tea or do you need something a little stronger?" She looks back over her shoulder at you as she pulls down a glass for herself.

"I think I need something stronger." You answer honestly.

Learning about everything Darren had done was one thing, but finding out that your grandmother used to be a famous supe and that she never told you about it was another thing. It was like looking at another person. You'd always loved your grandmother's gentle way, her care for her community and her family soft, but now you weren't sure you really knew who she was.

She sits down across from you and hands you a glass of the amber colored liquid. There's a heavy silence that hangs between the two of you as she tries to find a way to start. The photo of her and Ben is laying on top of what you realize is her uniform inside the box and she smiles down at the photo, just a little twitch at the corner of her lips.

"I met Ben when I was twenty three years old." She begins taking a sip from the glass. "Legend 'discovered' me. I had the injection of Compound V maybe two years before that, not when I was born, but I hadn't gotten popular. Other powers were much more flashy and by then there were so many heroes coming out of the woodwork that someone with the ability to see the future didn't seem as marketable."

There's something reflected in her blue eyes, the same eyes your father had, that you can't place. "I had just moved to New York, I had no money, and the way I was getting it was by pretending to be a fortune teller and betting on some sports events on the side. It wasn't hard to prove that I could see the future, the past was more difficult, but Legend somehow stumbled into my shop and figured out that I was a supe. And he didn't think I was too bad looking so he helped me get big."

"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"

She snorts into her glass. "Mhmm. People really will believe anything if they're desperate enough and back then there was so much turmoil going on with Russia that people were scared and wanted to feel comforted. My job provided some of that."

"But why did you walk away from it if you were such a big hero." You ask. "Everyone knew your name, you were-"

Your grandmother raises an eyebrow at you and you fall silent so she can continue. "When I got onto Payback that's when everything exploded for me, the films, the commercials, the ridiculous ads." She sighs. "That's also when I met Ben."

You take a sip from the glass in front of you, sputtering slightly. It was stronger than you were expecting. "And you two were-"

Please don't say dating, please don't say dating, please don't say…

"Friends. Just friends." Diana sits back against the back of the breakfast nook, sinking into the navy blue pillows. "But he is almost as charming now as he was then."

You cringe at the thought of Ben coming on to a younger version of your grandmother.

She taps her glass with her index finger deep in thought. "But I think that I was the only person that Ben actually talked to, the only person that he was comfortable being around."

"What do you mean?" You ask confused. "Didn't he talk to Countess and to Legend?"

Her expression hardens at the mention of Countess's name. "He didn't talk to her the way he talked to me. Ben is difficult, he always has been and I think that most of the people he meet him write him off as this asshole with a chauvinistic look on the world, but he's not. At least, not all the time. There are so many people that he's met that are never willing to take a chance on him. To trust that there is really something beneath all of that bravado."

It was what you had been thinking for the past week, that there was more to Ben than he was willing to let people see, but you were slowly realizing that Ben was letting you see those parts. In the quiet moments at your shared apartment when he sat with you while you read or made you laugh or walked you to and from work you saw another side of Ben that you never saw when he was around anyone else. The guilt rises again when you think of how you ran from him, how you turned your back and left him standing there to clean up your mess.

I shouldn’t have done that, but it was all just so overwhelming and I didn't want to talk to anyone.

"I think that Ben is the most loyal friend I ever had. No one ever seems to believe me when I say that. That we were just friends, but nothing happened between us."

"You didn't date? Or sleep together?" You ask cautiously. It was difficult to imagine Ben being friends with a woman and not having a sexual relationship with her.

Well. We're friends, but that's different.

The last thing you wanted to think about was Ben and your grandmother having sex.

I would need so much therapy after that. You sigh. Yeah, because after all the shit I've been through and found out about my life in the last twenty hours, the knowledge that Ben fucked my grandmother is what's going to push me over the edge.

"No." She shakes her head with a small smile. "About a week after I met Ben, I was running late to a movie shoot and I stepped off the crosswalk without looking. There was a car coming and I didn't see it. Ironic isn't it?" She laughs at herself. "I can see the future and I didn't see a car coming, but your grandfather did and he grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me onto the sidewalk, saved my life. And the second my eyes locked with his I saw our future. I saw our wedding, our first house, I saw our son take his first steps and I saw how much I would love him and how much he would love me." She clears her throat for a minute, her fingers tighten on the glass, and her gaze drops to the wedding ring on her left hand. “The future is never set in stone, it’s fluid. It morphs and shapes with your decisions, but in the future I saw, I was so happy. And I didn’t want to lose that.”

Your grandfather had passed a few years ago, but you knew it weighed on her everyday. She had spent the week after he died in her room not saying anything to anyone. And sometimes she'd look out the window into the backyard with an odd expression, but you knew that meant she was thinking of him.

Growing up you'd seen how in love the two of them were, more so than your parents. Seen the flowers your grandfather always brought home just because he was thinking of her, watched him do little things around the house without being asked, saw how they never walked away angry from one another, and seen the soppy expression he'd get when he watched your grandmother move around the kitchen baking with a grace that you'd never possessed.

You reach across the table to touch her hand and she takes it gratefully.

"I didn't want to tell him that I was a supe, and at the beginning I thought I could balance it all, but then Ben started dating Countess." She takes another sip from her glass. "She hated me."

"What? Why?" You ask. The creature crawls across the table to sniff at the glass in front of you, before it snorts and falls into your lap, curling into a ball.

"Countess was a bitch." Your grandmother says mirthlessly, her expression hardening. "She wanted to possess Ben completely. Only loved how famous he was, how popular it made her, and he threw himself at her feet, in his own way, not understanding that love didn’t look that way. He’s never had a good example of it in his life. And she never understood that Ben and I were just friends. By then I had been dating your grandfather for a few months and things were getting serious. It was about a year before everything that happened in Nicaragua."

She presses her lips together as if remembering what happened to Ben there. "She was jealous, possessive, and she came to me one night. Ben was out of town for a film so she knew we wouldn’t be interrupted. She threatened to tell your grandfather who I really was and threatened to kill him.” Her jaw sets. “My powers were never really as offensive as hers were. And she said that Ben wouldn’t ever protect me over her because he loved her and would do anything to make her happy. So I left and I never looked back.”

And here I thought I couldn't hate Countess any more than I did for what she did to Ben.

“You didn’t talk to him ever again?” You wonder out loud.

She left without telling him goodbye?

“There was the occasional phone call. Sometimes Ben would ask me to see who was going to win a ball game or something so he could make a few bucks. He stopped by to say hi a few times because he was in the neighborhood. One time he brought your father a baseball glove that was way too big for a one year old.” She snorts, the memory flashing in her eyes. “I always thought Ben would be a good dad some day. But I think seeing your father was when Ben realized how much he wanted to have kids. And I think seeing the way your grandfather treated me made him start to feel conflicted about Countess. But he respected that I walked away, he saw that I was happy.”

“But what about Nicaragua?"

A dark look crosses her face followed by something that looks suspiciously like guilt. “I saw what they were going to do to him.”

“What? But why didn't you tell him what they were planning? Why didn't you-"

"I tried." She snaps, shoulders tense, but then they drop. "I called Ben, but Stan answered. By then your father was turning two, your grandfather had opened up his practice, and Stan threatened me, he knew where we were and knew everything about us. So I kept my mouth shut and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

You could feel your heart breaking for her.

Ben was her best friend and she had to sit by and watch them do that to him. She saw what they were going to do and they were going to kill her for it, kill my family for it.

The anger that surges in your chest makes the creature in your lap stir and grow a few inches, but you tamp it down before it gets bigger than a small dog.

“Does Ben know?” You ask her to distract yourself.

You didn't want Ben to hate your grandmother for this, didn't want him to hate her for something that wasn't her fault.

She nods. “Yes. I told him everything.”

“When?”

“The moment I saw him in your hospital room. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I wasn't expecting him to be there, but it all poured out of me. I was so surprised to see him there. I hadn't seen a future where he came back."

“Was he mad?”

I mean… he didn't seem mad when I woke up, not to mention he was upset when she left to come back to Illinois.

“Not at me.” She shakes her head. “He knew how much I wanted a normal life and how much I loved your grandfather. He doesn’t blame me for any of it.”

“Good. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

The glass in front of you is still more than half-full but you don't want to risk another sip of what you're sure is gasoline packaged to look like Scotch. Your grandmother reaches to pour herself another glass.

“I didn’t want to until you were ready.”

“And when would that be?”

Your grandmother shrugs. “Maybe on my deathbed.”

You weren't angry for her not telling you, more surprised, but now that you knew everything about her it was hard to see her the same way you had.

 You snort. “And no one knew?”

“Your dad figured it out.”

“How? When?”

“The moment you made that strawberry plant grow from your high chair.” She shakes her head with a smile. “It skipped a generation. Don’t know why, but you got it all somehow.”

“I was never injected?”

“No. That was a lie your father created. He knew that your grandfather didn't know and he knew that I didn't want your grandfather to know."

“Darren thought I was.”

“I know.”

At the mention of your brother's name, you watch her expression harden and she takes another swig from the glass in front of her, not flinching as the liquid goes down her throat.

“Did you see everything that happened?” You ask in a small voice.

You still weren't 100% sure how it was her powers worked, but you figured that she was able to see some of what Darren did and what he said.

“Yes.”

“You heard everything Darren said?"

“Yes.”

You chew the inside of your cheek for a minute hoping that she didn't take it as hard as you did. “Did you know that he killed them?”

“No.” She breathes, rolling the glass between her hands for a moment. “The night they died, I got a vision a few minutes before the car ran off the road. I was the one who called the police and who told them where to look, but I never saw that it was Darren or that it was anyone causing the accident. All I saw was the three of you in the car. I should have known.” Her voice breaks.

“It’s not your fault.” You squeeze her hand.

“And it’s not yours either.” She squeezes your hand back.

The memories are beginning to float up from the recesses of your mind and your teeth clench together as you try to keep them at bay.

“I know.” You breathe. The memory of the ruined shop flashes through your head. “I didn’t know that I could do something like that.” You gently touch your healed right arm and glance at the creature that is nibbling on the edge of the cardboard box with its sharp splinter-like teeth. “I feel so different and I don’t know how to go back to the way I was.”

“I don’t think you ever will.”

"Really?"

The thought was unwelcome. You were hoping that all of this was going to blow over, but you knew it wouldn't. Your powers had changed. There was an energy that thrummed in your veins now, stretching out of the house to the plants that grew in the garden. You could feel them all if you concentrated.

She frowns. “When you told me that you were working for Butcher I was worried about you getting involved in the supe world. I didn’t want that life for you, didn’t want you to suffer the way I did-“

“Was it really that bad?"

“Not all the time, just at the end. But I think that’s why I loved your grandfather so much. Because he was different than all the supes. He was down to earth, not just normal but-“ She shrugs. “I think Compound V does something to our minds, makes them more susceptible and when you’re surrounded by people using their powers and thinking that they’re gods it’s easy to lose who you are. I was glad I left when I did."

“Great." You huff, thinking about how your powers had grown exponentially since you killed your brother. It was scaring you to think that you would reach a point where you acted like Homelander, where you saw yourself as a god and killed anyone who stood in your way.

As tired as the stereotype of you only being able to make the flowers grow, you liked doing that. You liked healing plants, tending to them, and helping them grow. For you it had never been about using your powers the way that you had to kill Elijah and your brother and had always been about spreading a little more joy and love like your grandmother did with her kindness in her community.

Your mind flashes back to the first night that Ben stayed with you in your apartment and he'd asked you why you worked for Butcher and told you that he thought you "didn't fit."

Before you hadn't. You knew that. You weren't intimidating to look at or fueled by revenge or had a bone to pick with supes. You'd joined because you thought it was the right thing to do and because you wanted to be closer with Annie. She had been so involved in the supe world and you'd felt like you were losing your best friend. When in reality being at "Please Don't Die" was the only thing that felt natural for you.

You could feel yourself changing and you weren't sure that you wanted to and you weren't sure if you were changing for the better. Deep down you still felt like you, despite everything Darren had revealed, but your powers were greater than you'd thought they could be.

“No.” She squeezes your hand pulling you out of your head. “I don’t see you losing yourself in this.”

“You’ve seen-“ Your eyes widen.

“The future yeah.” Her lips twitch up at the ends in a smile. “It is what I do.”

“That’s so weird.”

You hadn't meant to say it, but you really didn't want to know too much about your future.

Well, not all that much. Maybe just a little.

“You of all people have no right to judge what’s weird. Not with Godzilla sitting in your lap.”

"Godzilla" yawns, flashing a mouthful of his pointy teeth, before settling back down on your thighs.

You smile for the first time in twenty hours, but then it drops. “I don’t like losing control. I thought I knew who I was but now I don’t-“ The emotions were bubbling up again, chest tightening, and lungs beginning to gasp for air. “I don’t know who I am anymore or what I am or what I can do and-“

“There’s nothing wrong with not being in control.”

“But what if I hurt someone? What if I kill-“ You body shakes as you think about all the important people in your life, Annie, Hughie, Butcher, Kimiko, MM, Frenchie- and then your mind stutters on Ben.

“Your powers are growing and there’s nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of. If you’re afraid of them it won’t get easier for you. You have to embrace the fear to see the lights that line the path through it.”

"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"

"Not because you lost control. You did it because you were protecting yourself and protecting your friends."

"But-"

"Who is it that you're scared of hurting? Annie?" Her expression turns sympathetic. "Annie is a supe and understands what it's like to lose control. None of us are in control all the time and it's ridiculous to believe that you won't lose control at least once."

Your throat clenches tightly, because when she asked the question you didn't see Annie's face, you saw Ben's. You knew that it was probably ridiculous to worry about hurting a guy with a nuclear reactor stuffed in his chest or a guy who'd been through every torture known to man, but you were. And you weren't entirely sure if you meant hurting him with just your powers.

Tears crest and fall down your cheeks as you sit there, throat thickening. "I don't want to hurt Ben."

"He's a little more indestructible than us sweetie." She cracks a smile, but you can't smile back and you don't answer because you're unsure how to.

She sits back against the breakfast nook and sighs, examining your face and slowly realizes what you mean. "Ben is complicated. He always has been. I like to think that most of it, is his father's fault. Has he told you anything about him?"

You shake your head.

"He was a dick. Made Ben think that he was a disappointment his whole life. I don't think that Ben has had someone love him unconditionally since his mother died. And loving Countess only made it worse for him. Her love was jealous, possessive, and I don't think that he's really come to terms with what real love should look like." She lets out a breath, tapping her index finger against the glass. "I never saw him as more than a friend, but I do love him. It's not a crime to love him."

"I don't love him." You say it immediately.

"Why not?"

"What?" You sputter. "I don't know what you're-"

"Tell me why you don't love him." Your grandma says methodically, as if she's trying to talk you through it.

"Because I-" The pressure was back in the back of your throat and you couldn't quite meet her eye. "Because-" You scramble for the answer, trying your darndest to keep your heart from clenching in your chest. "I want what you and grandpa had, what Annie and Hughie have, and what my parents had. A strong relationship with someone who sees all my flaws, the little parts, and the darkness and still choses to fall in love with me anyway. I don't want just one night I want every night. I want something real and Ben has said countless times that he-"

"So you've talked about it with Ben?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Only because he kept trying to sleep with me and I told him that I didn't want to have sex with him." You reply exasperated.

"You don't?"

"Gran!"

"What? He's attractive."

"It doesn't matter. None of it does. Because Ben has said that he doesn't have relationships, that he doesn't care about feelings, or emotions." Saying the words that Ben had told you countless times made something inside begin to shrivel up and die. "And I do. And I don't want to manipulate him into being something he's not or force him into a relationship that's doomed from the beginning. Ben is Ben. He's not changing or-"

"He has." She interrupts.

"What?"

"The Ben I saw in your hospital room is not the one I knew." She says it so matter of fact that makes it hard to breathe. "And neither was the one that I saw in your apartment when I stayed with you. I mean he is in essence Ben, but-"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"He is changing. Not completely, but he's acting differently than when he was with Countess. I mean, I saw all the things he did for her. The way he was around her."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because he loved her."

The words make your heart seize in your chest. "Ben doesn't love me. He's my roommate and my friend-" It was the same thing that you kept telling yourself on repeat to beat back the other feelings that you hadn't quite identified yet. "And he's told me that he doesn't want a relationship and that I should try to meet other people."

That last part was a lie, but you honestly didn't know where she was going with this conversation or why it was getting so hard to breathe.

"Have you thought that maybe Ben doesn't want to love you because he's scared?"

"He doesn't love me and Ben isn't afraid of anything."

"He is. It might not look the same way on him as it does on everyone else, but if you pay close enough attention you can catch it." She hesitates. "And I think if you pay attention to you, you'll see what it is that you're afraid of too."

What does she mean? What the hell am I afraid of? Ben isn't afraid of anything, he's practically shouted that from the mountaintops like Julie Andrews.

"I already told you what I'm afraid of."

"I'm not talking about you hurting someone honey. There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared." She smiles sadly at you. "You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful." There's a far off look in her eyes and you realize that she'd seen something further ahead that she wasn't letting on.

"And it's all I want for you. To be happy." Your grandmother stands from the other side of the booth "I think you need some rest. You drove all night long and I doubt you got any sleep. And I have to package all of these before Annie's mother calls down the four horsemen of the Apocalypse on me."

"Wait-"

"Please sweetie." She lays her hand down on your arm. "I think you'll feel a little better about all of this when you've had some rest." Her fingers raise to push back some of the hair that's fallen forward into your eyes. "Hmm?"

You didn't want to rest, you wanted to talk about this, but you knew better than to argue with her. Not to mention she was right, you hadn't slept.

"And when you wake up I'll make your favorite for dinner, alright?" She smiles, but there's something behind it that you can't place.

"Okay."

And this time you don't argue with her. You go up the worn staircase that you have your entire life and collapse onto your bed, wondering exactly what it was she saw your future hold, and what it is that you won't admit to yourself.

Soldier Boy POV

There was no light in the apartment save from the burning red tip of Ben's blunt and the bluish glow emanating from the tv that caught the dips and sharp edges of his face. But it was nothing more than background noise.

His hand absentmindedly stroked along Bean's back, his eyes focused on the ceiling above the couch. He hadn't moved in hours. It had been over twenty four hours since everything that happened at the plant shop, since you'd summoned a creature from the depths of the store, since Darren had thrown Ben through the plate glass windows of the bakery, and since Ben had last seen you.

He didn't understand why you hadn't let him take you back to the apartment and why it was that you had to leave. Ben hadn't liked the feeling that stabbed him in the chest when you turned your back on him and ran away. He'd felt the urge to comfort you the way he'd watched Hughie do for Annie in the car a week ago, but you hadn't let him.

Instead all he'd done is stood there and watched you run, still covered in dust, rubble, and blood. Worse was you hadn't let him check you for injuries and Ben hated the thought that you were hurt somewhere and he didn't know where you were.

You were so much more fragile than he was. He was realizing that more every day, was acutely aware of it after everything that happened with Elijah. Honestly, sitting there in the hospital with you laying there asleep with nothing that he could do, but wait for you to wake up had been agony. Not to mention that looking at the bruises around your throat, over your eye, and the bright green cast only made him feel worse. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life and he hated it. Because Ben wasn't some helpless damsel in distress, he was a man and a man shouldn't wait on anyone or feel out of control, or at least, that's what he told himself.

Ben hears someone walk down the hallway outside the apartment and he perks up to listen, hoping that it's you finally coming home. Ben's mind stutters on the word "home." He'd lived many places in his life, apartments that felt more like way-stations, and the drafty cold mansion back in Philadelphia where he grew up, but neither felt like home. And although he hated how small your apartment was, it was the first place that Ben liked living in. He was starting to understand the word home.

But the feet keep moving past the apartment and Ben sinks into the couch cushions. Even Bean seems to be disappointed. "It's alright buddy." Ben mutters. "She'll come back."

But he wasn't sure.

Ben also wasn't used to feeling this way. It was close to the way that he felt when he went to Boston and was sitting in that damn hotel room waiting for something to happen and he still didn't understand what it meant. He didn't understand why he couldn't stand it that you weren't back yet. It made him feel like a woman waiting for her husband to get home from work when he told her that he was "running late." He'd tried to distract himself by looking at some possible prospects on Tinder, but just like the week after you'd come home from the hospital and just like the date he had in Boston, no one held any appeal.

His mind was awake and roaming around, pacing back and forth. The blunt was supposed to help, but it hadn't.

His phone chirps and Ben picks it up to look at the screen, but it's not you, it's Jake.

Jake: I know that I'm not your favorite person, but thank you for what you did.

Ben huffs and turns his phone face down on the couch once more. "What a fucking pussy."

When you left Ben had realized that Jake was still inside the building and as much as he wanted race after you, he understood that you'd be even more upset if you'd killed Jake. So Ben had tromped back through the building and found him trapped beneath some rubble. Jake was okay, just unconscious, but Ben had carried him out and put him on the sidewalk before he high tailed it out of there. The last thing that he wanted was to be caught with a shredded body outside a ruined building.

I didn't do it for him. I did it for her. Ben thinks to himself, looking down at the text message.

As much as he hated the thought of saving your future boyfriend, he didn't want to see what it did to you if you found out that you killed Jake, so he'd done it to avoid watching you cry again.

Ben didn't understand why he hated watching you cry.

Women cry. They're damn emotional all the time. He tries to reason with himself taking a puff from the blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. And she fucking cries way too much.

The image of you crying outside of the shop in the wake of everything that happened pricks something under his ribcage. Fuck.

Ben didn't feel remorse for what happened, well, the only thing he regretted was not getting there sooner and getting to fuck Darren up himself. When Diana had called him to tell him that Darren was coming, Ben had practically ripped the apartment door off in his haste to get back to you. He hadn’t wanted to leave you at the plant shop, but Butcher had told Ben, that he had a possible location for Darren, but it came up empty and Ben had been at Butcher's apartment chewing him out for sending him on a fucking wild goose chase.

It only made Ben more angry to allow Darren to speak to you, but he was trying to let you handle it even though he wanted to handle him. But it had brought him an unholy amount of joy to throw Darren in front of that minivan and to watch that creature tear him apart while the final whitish blue pulses of electricity jumped and crackled down the street making the streetlights shower sparks everywhere.

But Ben was more upset that Darren had been able to land a few hits on you before you killed him.

Ben remembered the giant lizard that crawled out of what was left of "Please Don't Die" and felt his lips quirk up into a smile. As much as he hated the entire situation, Ben couldn't help but feel a little surge of pride at what you'd done to your brother. He'd never seen you look so powerful standing there in the street, your eyes glowing a brilliant green, arms outstretched, and the ground trembling around you as the world begged to be unleashed.

Of course he'd been just as surprised as you were at the fact that you'd healed your broken arm. He wasn't sure if you'd noticed it yet, but you looked different too. There weren't as many lines on your face and your hair was more springy, the few silver hairs that Ben had noticed in passing were no longer there.

He wasn't sure what that meant, but there was something that felt suspiciously like hope tingling in his stomach, hope that you weren't as fragile anymore and hope that it meant you wouldn't die.

When Diana had told Ben that her husband had died, he saw the pain in her eyes when she said it, saw her relieving the memory, and for some reason as soon as she said that he was dead, the first thing Ben thought about was you. Ben hadn't considered his inability to age as much in the past, hadn't cared about outliving anyone before. Seeing Countess as an older woman had made him more aware of it. Looking at the woman who he once thought he loved, had showed him what that was like. Not that he had a problem with daring older women, Ben always thought that women really did get better with age, but it was what came next that Ben wasn't fond of.

And for some reason thinking that one day he'd wake up and see the marks of age on your face or one day he'd wake up and he wouldn't be able to annoy you or hear you yell at him made his chest tight.

Ben takes another hit of his blunt. The longer he sat there the more then unnatural feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach, thrumming through his veins, the feeling that he was trying to avoid. He thought that the joint would calm him down, but he found himself jumping at every creak and footstep in the apartment building, perking up each time and hoping that it was you coming home.

He didn't know where you were. You hadn't answered any of his texts or calls and Ben was ashamed at how many times that he had tried to call you.

Get a fucking grip. He'd thought to himself when he typed out another text message to send you, stopping himself from sending it.

But he'd been so desperate to hear from you that he'd actually gone to talk to Annie who seemed upset that she couldn't get ahold of you either. When Hughie and Annie had seen how upset Ben had been, Hughie had laid his hand on Ben's arm and told him not to worry. Ben had yelled at him that he "wasn't fucking worried and to mind his own business" and had shaken off Hughie's comforting hand before stomping out of the shared apartment.

No one else seemed to be as concerned about finding you. Butcher, MM, and Frenchie were all deeply involved in trying to figure out the cover-up for what happened outside the plant shop. By some miracle no one had caught a picture of your face, but there was little they could do about Darren's body that had been strewn across the street. Annie was having to deal with the repercussions at work, trying to handle what the news was calling a "super villain threat."

Personally, Ben thought that since they froze Homelander, the Seven looked weak and Ben believed that the superhero team that represented America shouldn't look weak. Of course before Ben had also thought that they looked like a bunch of pussies and again felt himself sink deeper into the couch when he thought about what his supposed son had become.

He shakes off the feelings he has about it and his thoughts turn back inevitably to you.

Ben wasn't used to thinking about someone as much as he thought of you, but each time he settled back into the apartment and you weren't there he was hyperaware of how quiet it was.

Maybe I should call Diana. She might know where she is.

As soon as Ben thinks that, his phone begins to ring, but Ben doesn't bother to look at who it is before he answers it. 

"Hello?" Ben huffs out a breath of smoke that hangs in the air in front of his face, catching in the bluish light coming from the television.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The voice on the other side of the line yells at him.

"Di?"

"Yes it's me. Who did you think it was? Santa Clause?" Your grandmother snarks.

"Why are you calling me and why the fuck are you so mad? What did I do?" Ben answers slightly annoyed.

As much as you got under his skin, your grandmother had been the same way. He actually thought that it was amusing that even before he figured out that she was your grandmother that he had often compared you to her in his mind. You had the same mannerisms, the same defiant and stubborn attitude that drove Ben up the wall, and you were just as beautiful as she was.

Ben was okay with admitting that he was attracted to you. To him that felt normal, it was the other feelings that he was conflicted about, the ones that he'd never felt before stirring in his chest that made him feel "too emotional" and "woman-like."

Truthfully, Ben was sure that if your grandmother had given him a shot that maybe he would have felt that way about her too. She was the only person that Ben actually trusted in the 80's, the only person that was brave enough to call him out on all his shit. You did that now. But he liked her husband also, so Ben was content with letting her go. He liked how happy that Henry, your grandfather, had made her. He knew that she wasn't happy as a supe and seeing her so happy and in love made Ben feel something that was close to happiness.

And it was seeing the way the two of them were together made Ben wonder if what he had with Countess was the same thing. Because he did have feelings about her that were different, but each time he went to visit Diana and saw your father playing on her lap he felt that there was something missing in his life.

It was the same way that he thought something was missing when you weren't in the apartment, but Ben hadn't realized that yet.

"Because I don't understand what the hell you're doing!" Diana replies and Ben honestly doesn't know why she's angry with him.

"About what?"

"My granddaughter."

Ben sits up the blunt in his fingertips forgotten. "Is she there with you?"

"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.

Ben relaxes and leans back onto the couch, sighing in relief. "Good.  That's good." Relief swelled in his chest when he thought about you staying with her, safe.

That's what she meant when she said that she wanted to go home. Home is with her grandmother. Ben stopped the next thought before he could go there.

The thought that home wasn't with him.

Ben was trying not to think about that or think about you hating him. He didn't think you did, well, didn't think you did anymore. At first it really was touch and go, but now he was almost eighty percent sure after you'd told him more than once that you weren't afraid of him and didn’t hate him that you sometimes wanted him around.

"No, not good."

"What do you mean? Is she okay?" Ben's grip on the phone tightens so hard that he's sure that he hears the screen cracking.

"No."

"What happened?" Ben's voice is a growl, the feelings of relief evaporating as soon as they had begun to bloom in his chest. He mentally calculated how long it would take him to get to you.

"Her entire life fucking fell apart and where are you? Not here!"

Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.

"I don't need to be there." He says on an exhale of smoke.

"Yes you do!" Diana presses.

"No, I don't. She a big girl she doesn't need me there, she's-" Ben takes a puff from the joint.

“If you were any denser you’d be a Bundt cake Benjamin!” She says exasperated.

"What the fuck are you talking about doll? I am not-"

“Let me guess." She interrupts and Ben can imagine her tapping her foot. He hated when she did that. "You’re moping around smoking a blunt on the couch probably with a glass of something that you're hoping to numb whatever the hell it is you're feeling."

Ben's eyes shift to the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table that he hadn't touched in a few minutes.

“I’m not fucking moping and stop spying on me!” He snaps back at Diana.

He hated how well she knew him. She was his best friend in the 80's through all the shit, she had seen him at his worst and at his best too many times to count.

“I don’t have to use my powers to know what you’re doing. I know you Ben.”

"Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart.” Ben grits his teeth, temper flaring hot. “But if you know me as well as you fucking say you do then you then you know that this is-“

“You avoiding your feelings by acting aloof and brooding like a fucked up version of Mr. Darcy.” She interrupts.

She certainly hasn't changed.

“I am not avoiding-“

“She needs you here Ben.” Diana stamps her foot, the same way you do when Ben pisses you off, and Ben can hear it.

“She doesn’t need me! She said that she wanted to go home, that she didn’t want to be here with me! I tried to-“ Ben shouts back standing up. It was the exact thing that he'd been thinking for the past twenty four hours, that you didn’t need him and that you didn't want to be any where near him.

That last thought made an uncomfortable sensation prickle in his gut when he thought it, because all it did was remind him of how you acted when the two of you first met, when you didn't want him to live with you and tried your darndest to make him go away.

He didn’t want to and he wasn't sure why that was.

“Try harder.” Diana interrupts him again and frankly it was pissing him off.

Ben clenches his jaw. “I think that you’ve confused me with someone else baby.”

“Don’t you 'baby' me Benjamin! We both know that you’re doing what you always do when things get hard for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“You pretend not to care and shut out everyone who tries to care for you. Not to mention you drown yourself in drugs, booze, and women.”

“She doesn’t care about me!” He spits.

“She does!” Diana snaps back. “And believe it or not she needs you here and she wants you here.”

"But-"

"Ben please." It was the first time that he'd heard Diana sound softer and almost pleading since the conversation started. "Don't do this to her. She's worth more than Countess and all those other women you've fallen into bed with."

"Do you really think I don't know that?" He roars. The answer surprises himself. "Do you think I don't know that she's different?"

Wait what?

"If you know that, then why aren't you here?"

He hesitates.

Everything you said to him the night of the party comes roaring back. You looking beautiful in a dress that made his throat tight, and you telling him that you just wanted to be friends and that you understood that he wasn't the type of guy to have relationships. He didn't understand why it stung a bit when you said that, but it had.

Ben thinks about the week that the two of you spent together after Diana went home, when he tried his best to take care of you, distract you from everything that happened with his movies, and would sit with you and try to make you laugh. He'd never wanted to take care of someone before.

Not to mention he kind of liked the way you laughed. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but each time you did, it made him want to laugh too. That had never happened to him before. But he wanted to make you laugh to forget everything that happened with Elijah. His fist clenches when he thinks of exactly what Elijah tried to do to you and it makes him feel so mad that he feels close to spontaneously combusting. Ben might not be the best role model when it came to women, but he couldn’t imagine the type of man who would force himself on someone else.

It had made him angry when he thought that you were suggesting that he would try something when he first moved in, because he wasn't that type of man.

Ben was trying to be better for you. He wasn't admitting that, but he really was trying to be better. He didn't understand why. You'd told him countless times that you didn’t want to be with him, that you wanted to be with someone else like Jake.

Ben frowns when he thinks about the man he'd pulled from the rubble of the shop. And again thinks to himself that you should be with someone different, someone who was a supe and could understand you. Ben had seen how difficult it was for Diana when she was keeping her supe life a secret from your grandfather and he didn't want you to have to do that with someone.

"Because I'm not-" Ben begins to say, but he holds his tongue. It was too honest, too raw, too unlike him to admit this to anyone.

Because I'm not this guy. Because I'm not the one she wants. Because I'm not some knight on a white horse. Because she's everything right with the world and I'm just a fucking asshole who sleeps on her couch.

"Ben." Diana breathes and he can practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. "In all the years I've known you, you've never done what you did for her with anyone else. You carried her out of that warehouse, you stayed with her in the hospital even after she woke up, you took care of her when she came home, you protected her from Darren. You can't ignore all those things."

"I'm not ignoring them. She's my friend." The word sours in his mouth as he says it. "And she would have done the same thing for me." He knew it was true.

She's a good person and she wouldn't let me chase her away if any of that shit happened to me and I told her to leave me alone.

"Yes she would. Because she cares about you." Diana sighs.

"She doesn't."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Because she's told me what she wants!" Ben shouts so loudly he can feel the room shaking. "She wants to be friends-“

"Because she doesn't think that you want a relationship you nitwit!"

"I don't." Ben spits the words before he can stop them, but as he does something tightens at the base of his throat.

"How is it that it's been forty fucking years and you're still able to dance on the grave of my last nerve?"

Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."

She sighs into the phone again making it crackle in Ben's ear. "She needs you.” Diana repeats. “And I think you need her too.”

His temper was flaring again, the thoughts that his father pressed into him surging up before he can stop the words. “I don’t need anyone. I’m Sol-“

“If you say that you’re Soldier Boy, I’m going to reach through this phone and slap you silly.” She snaps. “And you do need her, but you’re still just too stubborn to admit it.”

“I-“

“Ben I know that everything that happened with Countess was fucked up, but my granddaughter she-“ Diana pauses before she changes the thought.  “You say that you know she’s different, but right now you’re treating her the same way you treat all those other women.”

“I’m not-“

“My granddaughter has decided you’re important to her and once that’s happened it’s hard to make her let go. You saw the way she was with Darren and that guy was a manipulative asshole. Imagine what she thinks of you.”

“I-“

“Stop making excuses!”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” Ben shouts.

“And I don’t need to! Think what you want Ben but if you’d stop acting so stubborn and so ridiculously blind to what’s right in front of you. I promise that what comes next is worth the risk.”

“Don’t go all fucking mystical on me doll.”

“And don’t go all macho- no feelings asshole on me! So stop being so damn stubborn, get on a plane and get your ass here.” She retorts. “Don’t fuck this up Benjamin because if you do I’ll fuck you up.”

The line goes dead.

Ben sat there for a minute in the silence still holding the phone up to his ear, listening to what your grandmother said to him ring around in his head for a second.

No one ever spoke to him that way. In fact, Ben had never allowed anyone to speak to him the way that she did, well, not until you came along. You reminded him so much of her that it was astounding and he wasn't going to admit that maybe it's why he liked being around you so much.

Ben frowns at what Diana said, thinking about the unusual feelings that were swirling in the pit of his stomach. He felt wrong and the feelings were odd for him. He hadn't felt anything remotely like this ever in his life, not even for Countess.

And although Ben refused to be afraid of anything, the feelings he was having scared him. He didn’t understand and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see where this ended up. He felt like he was in too deep.

As much as he wanted to go to you like Diana ordered him to, he wasn't sure that he should. Something was holding him back, digging it's heels in and refusing to budge.

But why do I feel like-

His phone rings and he doesn't look at the caller ID when he picks up, expecting it to be Diana again, yelling at him.

"Di I-"

But it's not Diana.

"Hello Ben. It's nice to hear your voice again." The familiar voice says, sounding calm and collected.

"What the fuck do you want?" Ben snarls.

 "I thought it was time the two of us had a chat.”

A/N: At this point Diana is really just trying to give both Ben and the reader the kick in the pants they need. And yes I know another cliffhanger, but you know you love it. 🤭😉 We are quickly reaching the end of this series, but that means the confession scene is coming and I am so excited about it!!

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know. 😊

Taglist:

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@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

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@livya99 @cherrygirl444

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Hello!! This is my first time requesting something so I'm sorry if I did it wrong or something, so I was wondering if you could do one with preferably Dazai where the reader is suicidal and mostly copes with humor. Oh and could the reader also be a teen like 13 years old?

Circus Hop

Self-Aware! Platonic! Dazai Osamu x GN! Teen! Suicidal! Reader

Description: You were two years younger then him, when he tried to end his life for the first time. You resemble him in more, then one way.

Warning: Mentions of Suicide, Suicide attempt. Parental Neglect. Emotional abuse. Terrible parents. Self-harm. Breakdown. English is my second language

Inspired by the song Circus Hop by YonKaGor.

List of Suicide hotline numbers can be found here and here.

____

Your father brought you to this small building. Someone from school insisted on that.

The room she asked you to stay was quiet. Her voice and your father's voices were muffled, because of the door.

Few minutes ago you were talking to the woman. She asked you about your life, your plans for the future, your friends.

Your answers were simple.

Nothing interesting. Don't have any plans for future. Don't want to meet my friends... Just don't want to.

Then she asked you about pictures you have drawn. And asking about your parents about death. And when the thoughts appeared.

Another set of answers.

I feel like drawing it. I feel like talking about it. After Granny's death.

You... think, that you feel like it. You still can feel, right?

Then she asked you to do some tests. First, you must answer, if some sentences can describe you¹, than you must finish some sentences², then group other sentences together ³.

After you finished, she asked you to wait here, while she talks to your father.

You were left alone.

You looked around.

There were nothing interesting for you. Yet, you continue sitting on the sofa and dangling your feet.

You didn't flinch, when your father opened the door, shouting at the woman, who was talking to him.

"Don't you have anything, that will fix them? They are creeping out everyone!"

Woman's voice was firm.

"I already told you, that your child need professional help. You should..."

Your father's gaze became colder.

"I will take them home. They aren't suicidal. They just a little brat who want some attention and who are angry at their mother and I for working too much and not playing in their stupid games. Come, [Y/N], we are leaving!"

He took your hand in his and start to drag you behind him. You simply follow after him.

Before completely leaving the small building, your father stopped.

"Where's your jacket?"

You point at the door, that leads to woman's office.

"There. I forgot it there "

Your father grumble something and, after slapping you on the back of the neck, he walked towards the door and enter the office again.

"Idiotic brat."

Nothing new. As usual.

Then you heard, how the secretary and one of the janitors were talking.

"Another one of these parents. At first, they refuse to treat their children, because they don't have time for that..." Janitor said, glaring at the office door.

"And then, they must find time to bury their kid..." The secretary's gaze was full of sympathy, when she looked at you.

Your father returns with your jacket. You put if on and follow your father again.

He was mumbling under his breath.

"The nerve of this woman... [Y/N]! Just stop being sad. Be happy!"

You mindlessly nodded. You didn't pay much attention to your father's words. One thought were circling in your head.

"Is it important... to attend someone's funeral?"

_______

It was important. At least, The Internet said so.

Your parents... Work hard. If you die, they won't be able to go to your funeral.

You shouldn't die. At lest, for now.

But... You were so tired. You were so afraid. Future was scary. Life was scary.

and you were a failure

You remembered, your father's advice.

"Just stop being sad. Be happy."

Maybe... you could...

________

For a year, you followed your father's advice.

For one year, you manage to keep up a happy façade.

You became interested in life again.

probably... you do become interested in your hobbies again... at least...you don't even scratch your legs or pull out your hair that much.

Dad's advice works.

kind of... your jokes freaked people out... but the school therapist insisted on helping you in secret from your parents.

when dad found out, he enrolled you in a different school.

he yelled at you for being a brat

mom yelled at you for being a difficult child

You must stay happy. Just be happy.

Pretend to be happy.

you just want to be truly happy again

________

You liked BSD even before these thoughts appeared in your head. Your Granny bought you BSD Manga as a birthday present. It is special to you.

Dazai was one of your favorite character before. Now, he truly became your most favorite. You two are similar. He laughs and jokes. You laugh and joke.

both of you need help

You shake your head, chasing away the thoughts.

You open BSD Mayoi app, humming that song again.

________

Dazai felt nervous.

Two weeks ago, he and the rest of BSD Cast finally got into your world. And, he didn't like what he saw.

First, your parents left the country for a business trip. Leaving you under the care of a complete stranger. Who checked on you two times a day. For the rest of the day, they were doing their own business. And don't pick up the phone.

Your parents left a thirteen-year-old you on your own!

Thankfully, with a few bucks from Fitzgerald and a death glare from Fukuzawa, your 'babysitter' left. You were under BSD Cast care now.

Second, your jokes are concerning. Dazai isn't a hypocrite, he admits, that he jokes about ending his own life! When he and others heard your jokes, back in their world, Dazai was sure that it was his bad influence. But, it turns out, the truth was much darker.

Dazai stopped joking about suicide. He didn't want to worsen your condition even more.

Third, the scratches on your legs.

You scraped your knee a few days ago, and Yosano bandaged it. And she saw this strange marks on your legs. Scratches. Deep. Dazai had a feeling, that you were the one, who made them.

Dazai was worried about you. He wanted to help you.

_______

With each day, it became harder and harder for you to pretend to be happy.

BSD Cast makes sure of that.

They weren't rude. They didn't yell. They... were there.

Asking if you need help. Telling you, that you are allowed to cry. That they will always be there for you.

You wanted to tell them everything. To tell the truth.

But, the call from your father happened.

_____

"Why your voice shaking, [Y/N]? Are you being a brat again?"

"I...I..."

"You're a little ungrateful... You want to make our lives hard?! Did you like it?! You know what, fine! If you didn't want to be there so badly, then d[|||||||||||||||]! See, if your mother and I will cry."

The call ended.

And you were broken.

______

It was dinner time. And you were uncharacteristically silent. No laughter. No jokes. No questions. No talking about your day. Nothing.

Then in the middle of the dinner, you start humming the song. Song, that they heard you humming all the time.

But your eyes were empty.

Dazai carefully touch your shoulder.

"[Y/N], kiddo? Are you alright?"

You slowly nodded. An empty grin appears on your face.

"I am! I am fine... I am happy! I...I can even sing a song!"

BSD Cast looked at each other. Dazai carefully spoke.

"A song?"

You nodded, taking your phone. You quickly found an instrumental.

"Yes! Want to hear it?"

You didn't wait for his, or anyone's response, you pressed play button. The song started playing from the middle.

A cheerful melody start playing.

Soon you sang.

"I shall now accept the fact that I'm a failure (You're a failure). 'Cause I'm still afraid the future might be scarier (It is scarier). I'll slip while having fun and cut off my own tongue. They'll think I was dumb!"

The grin on your face and empty gaze was frightening. Everyone slowly stand up from the table. Fukuzawa took a step towards you.

"[Y/N], if something is wrong, please..."

You ignored him.

"Up from the sky, I won't want you to cry. So here's an act for everyone to sneer at"

Suddenly, you stand up and star jumping up and down.

"So sing along, it's such a silly song. The cackling carousel, it spins and never stops. The acrobat who's waiting at the top. Should do a circus hop!"

You let out a hysterical laughter.

Mom and dad won't cry. No one would care. You can't be happy. You didn't feel anything. No one would care.

"I've said goodbye, I don't want you to cry. So have a laugh with everyone but me"

You were now standing in the middle of the room. You didn't pay attention to BSD Cast. To their pleas to talk to them.

The only thing that matters to you was the open window.

Quick.

You made a dash towards the window. For some reason, you still sang.

You forced yourself to sing. Like this song gave you strength.

"So sing along, it's such a silly song. The cackling carousel, it spins and never stops. The acrobat who fell off from the top. They did a little drop!"

Right before you grab the window's handle, something heavy crushed against you.

You fall down on the floor.

Dazai was pinning you to the floor, making sure, that you can't move.

Something wet fall on your face. You looked up.

Dazai was crying. With shaking hands, he hugged you.

BSD Cast surrounded you. You were in a group hug.

"[Y/N]! Never, never do it again! Kiddo..."

"[Y/N]! Are you hurt? Do you need medical help?"

"First thing tomorrow we are going to the therapist... No! I will find the therapist right now! There must be someone working right now!"

Tears. They were worried about you. They were crying for you.

For the first time since Granny's death, you cried.

"I... I am so scared! After Granny died, I was so alone! Mom and Dad weren't home! They didn't answer my questions about Granny! One day... I just stopped to care about the future. I was afraid of future! Live became so hard! I didn't feel anything... I just want it to end! I want to..."

You didn't finish your sentence and sobbed, hiding your face in Dazai's chest.

Dazai's words were warm. His voice was still shaky.

"You are not alone, [Y/N]... We will be there. I will be there."

_____

For the next few days, you were constantly under supervision. BSD Cast make sure, that you don't have any access to sharp things, medicine, windows.

You start attending therapy. What surprised you the most, that Dazai were attending it with you.

"I will be a bad big brother, if I don't act as an example."

Your parents were fired. Fitzgerald pressed charges about neglect and abuse.

You don't know how, but Fitzgerald adopted you almost instantly.

You had a long way ahead of you.

But you know, you will be better.

Because, one time, you finally thought about your future. And you were waiting for this future to come.

____

¹ Modifications of "Eysenck's Personality Test" for Teens is used to diagnose suicidal behavior.

²Modification of "Sacks Sentence Completion Test, SSCT" is used to diagnose suicidal behavior of teens and children.

³ One of the test, that is used by psychologists in Russia.

[sasakisyndrome]

theres something so special about charles and edwins Songᵗᵐ being welcome to the black parade because it just feels so distinctly them. like dead boy detectives and the black parade have similar thesis statements so its not super surprising but man do they go together well.

the song starts with a simple, elegant, and recognisable piano melody all on its own with relatively untouched vocals. that piano stays the prominent focus of the first half of the intros instrumental but is soon joined soon with the more parade-like rythyms, almost militant sounding drums and the piano (likely) mimicking a xylophone.

the use of these much more classical feels like it should juxtapose with the gradually crescendoing drums and the focus shifting from the piano melody being the most prominent to the electric guitar, a much modern instrument then the piano during the reprise of the first stanza of the song into the latter half, but the drums (representing the parade of death) keep the melody grounded together.

and the thing is somehow that combination of the piano into the guitar works it sounds awesome. the transition from gerards relatively gentle singing over the piano into the belting over the much more traditionally “rock emo” sound. the album is a rock opera which in itself should be an oxymoron but somehow WORKS.

and isnt that just such a perfect parallel to the prim and proper shy edwardian boy who died in 1916 (and missed 70 years of earth history) and the boy from the 80s who wears punk patches, and jewelery who is self declared “aces with other people.”

and that just the insturmentals, don’t even get me started on the lyrics like holy guacamole !!!!!!!!! there’s just such an inherint teenage angst to it that you can just get why it’s resonated with so many young people.

He said, "Son, when you grow up, would you be, the savior of the broken, the beaten, and the damned?"

though the boys never did get to grow up, they spend their time helping other ghosts with unfinished business be able to move on to their afterlives, helping the broken, the beaten, and ocassionally, the damned. that’s a basic breakdown of the show!!!! and the bridge omg…

Do or die, you'll never make me, Because the world will never take my heart Go and try, you'll never break me We want it all, we wanna play this part I won't explain or say I'm sorry I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scar And give a cheer for all the broken Listen here, because it's who we are Just a man, I'm not a hero Just a boy who had to sing this song Just a man, I'm not a hero I don’t care

charles and edwin never wanted to be “the dead boy heros” thats a horrible name. they just wanted to be detectives and to solve mysteries that no one else would. and they do it in exchange for top hats, and taffy, and cursed objects from people who needed help.

two boys who were both hatecrimed, whos deaths got covered up, who saw humanity at its absolute lowest, still choose to believe there is good in the world and want to help others. and they’re gonna be themselves while doing it! they’re gonna be bitchy, and loud, and forget things, and act like teenage boys, and if you don’t like that then go find other detectives.

when talking about the song gerard way spoke about how he liked that “a parade could either be for a funeral or for a celebration.” and for the album, and for the show, it’s both. and i’m very glad he and the rest of the band let them use the song in the trailer. because though the boys are dead and gone, but that doesn’t change the fact that they will carry on.

[littleplantfreak]

Midnight

So...this is a self indulgent Ume/Reader kinda not too much Ume about your cat passing away and going through it because that's where I'm at right now and I thought writing about it might help. (i named it after my cat too so)

Word count: 800ish (sorry i know that's a lot)

Cws: Hurt/Comfort (I tried to make it a little happy at the end), Animal Death, Grief

I only read it through once so no beta and under the cut :0 because I don't wanna make anyone sad who doesn't want to be.

It’s snowing again and the white powder muffles sound, making the walk from the car to your front door quieter than usual. Your keys jangle loudly in opposition when you take them out of your purse to unlock the door. 

“Hey, I’m home Mid-”

The words die in your throat, realizing there’s no one to call out to. Hajime is still at work, and your cat, who would normally greet you with trilling mews and a smack of his tail is gone.

His sickness came quickly and in the end it was better for him to go peacefully rather than to let things fail on their own, causing unnecessary pain. Logically, you know that, but you never realize how big the hole will be until it stares you in the face. 

Hajime had tried to stay strong until the very end, if not for you then to make sure the last time your cat saw your faces they wouldn’t be scrunched up in upset. You saw the shatter of his walls the minute the vet let you know it was over though.

The small funeral you held for him in the backyard had left both of you snotty and puffy faced. It’s a beautiful grave, especially once the two of you were through planting the flowers and placing painted stones in a few extra spots. Loved and certainly not forgotten, your cat’s absence is felt now more than ever when you’re by yourself. 

His cat tree is still in the living room, still fuzziest where he liked to rub off on it, and a little green mouse is still under a side table, only visible if you walk past it the right way.

By the time your boyfriend comes home, you’ve been on the couch for about an hour. You pet the white blanket around you as if it could possibly come close to feeling like your cat's fur. It doesn’t.

“Too quiet?” Hajime’s voice guesses as he sheds his jacket. He knows what’s wrong without you having to say it. He feels the spaces left behind too.

“I still expect him to come around the corner to look at me with those big green eyes,” you sniffle, pushing the tears back. Grief is not easy. It bubbles up when you least expect it, yet the world doesn’t stop turning and it rarely gives you a breather. You both pushed through the work day though if it’s any consolation. 

“Me too sweetheart,” he says, walking into the room. He curls up next to you as he brings you close, a blanket of warmth that you're so familiar with. It almost feels unfair to be comforted like this, but the thought is pushed quickly aside when his fingers thread through your hair to massage small circles, a pleasant distraction from the ache in your chest and the soreness of eyes that’ve cried too many tears. 

You rub and pat and feel his back and shoulders, molding them like putty in simple reciprocation as if the whole of you is saying to each other “I’m here, you can feel me, I’m not going anywhere.”

It begins there. With little comforts like a text to tell him you’re home or the radio left on throughout the day so that when you walk through the front door you just might be able to sing to the song playing. With a weekly pruning and upkeep of the little grave whose flowers are just starting to bloom. 

The wound doesn’t necessarily heal, but it gets stitched up. The scar doesn’t fade but if you run your finger down it, you don’t wince like you used to.

Which is why, when there’s two little mismatched eyes peeking at you from the top of an old cat tree, months and months past since the last time it’s been used, you can’t help but feel a dull throb.

It wasn’t planned; most cats aren’t in your experience. Still, she is quite cute with her eyes that remind you of Sakura and an orange glossy coat. At first you were afraid to forget your first cat, but the longer you have her, the more differences you pick out between the two. She’s an addition, not a replacement, and you both agree wholeheartedly. 

“Yowch! She’s climbing up my back again,” your boyfriend whines from the kitchen. You can hear small mews signalling she's made her way to her perch.

“If you hadn’t taught her to do that and ride on your shoulder everywhere, you might not have scratches on your butt that I have to keep disinfecting,” you sigh exasperatedly back at him as you fold the laundry. 

“She likes to be tall!” he defends and you can see that, considering her favorite spot to jump up on is the top of the fridge. She fills her own spaces, just like your cat before did, and you can’t help but be grateful for that.

[kokonoiis]

negai no astro characters as song lyrics ♡ ( but its biased to my music taste ) ♡

hibaru yotsurugi ﾉ

" cause if boys will be boys, we do the best that we can cover for our brothers while we suffer from our own hands boys will be boys, that's the way that this thing goes mothers lose their sons and their fathers watch them go fathers watch them go "

── boys will be boys | benny

kongo yotsurugi ﾉ

" you can play this at my funeral tell my sister don't cry and don't be sad i'm in paradise with dad close my eyes and then cross my arms put me in the dirt, let me dream with the stars throw me in a box with the oxygen off you gave me the key then you locked every lock when i can't breathe, i won't ask you to stop when i can't breathe, don't call for a cop "

── r.i.p to my youth | the neighbourhood

shio yotsurugi ﾉ

" the power keeps you feeling high, but how low do you sink into your bed at night anchored down with guilt? do you toss and turn from all the bridges you've burned? or are you proud of all the hatred you've earned? a conscience buried deep beneath a heart stuck in a skeleton of greed and eyes that can’t see that happiness is so far out of reach "

── dark storm | our last night

satsuki yotsurugi ﾉ

" here comes the debt collector seems you owe him again dollars and coins can't cut your cheque this time around here comes the debt collector and you owe him again kind words and lies won't save your head this time around, 'round, 'round "

── debt collector | jhariah

( jasper i hope you can see the vision in this one )

torazo yotsurugi ﾉ

" you gotta feel the courage embrace possession if it was easier to shatter everything that ever mattered but it's not, because it's your obsession be a fighter, backbone, desire complicated and it stings but we both know what it means and it's time to get real and inspired "

── cut the cord | shinedown

kuran yotsurugi ﾉ

" i wanna be your vacuum cleaner breathing in your dust i wanna be your ford cortina i will never rust if you like your coffee hot let me be your coffee pot you call the shots, babe i just wanna be yours "

── i wanna be yours | arctic monkeys

kou yotsurugi ﾉ

" 'cuz you see only what you want to your tunnel vision haunts you and you can't see what's wrong and you keep sleeping through the p.m. eyes wide open when you're dreaming you're sleepwalking, just keep talkin and maybe you can talk your way out of this deep end no b plan in your system just tell me what you're thinking i'm scared that you might fall but you're not "

── wake up | eden

terasu yotsurugi ﾉ

" i've dug two graves for us, my dear can't pretend that i was perfect, leavin' you in fear oh man, what a world, the things i hear if i could act on my revenge, no, would i ? some kill, some steal, some break your heart and you thought that i would let it go and let you walk well, broken hearts break bones, so break up fast and i don't wanna let it go, so in my grave, i'll rot "

── revenge | xxxtentacion

kiyochika gido ﾉ

" you're cold on the inside there's a dog in your heart and it tells you to tear everything apart you draw blood just to taste it you hold bones just to break them you ruin everything you touch and destroy anyone you love you're all over me "

── dog teeth | nicole doppleganger

botan ﾉ

" it's so hard to let go you can hear me but i'm invisible but if you dig out your eyes, maybe pain will subside the worst that could happen is you never see me again but the worst is yet to come, my friend "

── hickory creek | whitechapel

shunichiro fudo & kanjiro fudo ﾉ

" two birds of a feather say that they're always gonna stay together but one's never going to let go of that wire he says that he will but he's just a liar two birds on a wire one tries to fly away and the other watches him close from that wire he says he wants to as well, but he is a liar "

── two birds | regina spektor

kinpa yobana ﾉ

" scared of my own image scared of my own immaturity scared of my own ceiling scared i'll die of uncertainty fear might be the death of me fear leads to anxiety don't know what's inside of me "

── doubt | twenty one pilots

──kokonoiis 2024

[tisamustdie]

"The Black Parade" lyrics ☠️

Lyrics masterlist

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"Another contusion, my funeral jag/ Here's my resignation, I'll serve it in drag" The End.

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"When I grow up I want to be nothing at all" The End.

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"Save me (Get the hell out of here)/ Save me (Too young to die, and, my dear)/ You can't (If you can hear me just)/ Take me away (Walk away, yeah)" The End.

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"If life ain't just a joke, then why are we laughing? Dead!

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"To un-explain the unforgivable/ Drain all the blood and give the kids a show/ By streetlight, this dark night a seance down below/ There's things that I have done/ That you should never know" This Is How I Disappear

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"Who walks among the famous living dead/ Drowns all the boys and girls inside your bed" This Is How I Disappear

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"And now/ You wanna see how far down/ I can sink?" This Is How I Disappear

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"You can watch me corrode like a beast in repose/ 'Cause I love all the poison, away with the boys in the band" The Sharpest Lives

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"A light to burn all the empires/ So bright the sun is ashamed to rise and be" The Sharpest Lives

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"There's a place in the dark where the animals go/ You can take off your skin in the cannibal glow/ Juliet loves the beat and the lust it commands/ Drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands, Romeo" The Sharpest Lives

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"Do or die, you'll never make me/ Because the world will never take my heart/ Go on and try, you'll never break me/ We want it all, we wanna play this part/ I won't explain, or say I'm sorry/ I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scar/ And give a cheer for all the broken/ Listen here, because it's who we are/ Just a man, I'm not a hero/ Just a boy who had to sing this song/ Just a man, I'm not a hero/ I don't care" Welcome To The Black Parade

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"So take your gloves and get out/ Better get out while you can" I Don't Love You

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"Well I know a thing about contrition/ Because I got enough to spare/ And I'll be granting your permission/ 'Cause you haven't got a prayer/ Well I said, hey, hallelujah/ I'm gonna, come on, sing the praise/ Let the spirit come on through you/ We got innocence for days" House of Wolves

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"And bury me in all my favourite colors" Cancer

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"Oh, my agony" Cancer

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"We'll let the fires just bathe us" Mama

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"Mama, we're all full of lies/ Mama, we're meant for the flies/ And right now, they're building a coffin your size/ Mama, we're all full of lies" Mama

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"Oh, mother what the war did to my legs and to my tongue/ You should've raised a baby girl, I should've been a better son/ If you could coddle the infection, they can amputate at once/ You should've been, I could have been a better son" Mama

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"We're damned after all/ Through fortune and fame, we fall" Mama

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"So raise your glass high, for tomorrow we die/ And return from the ashes you call" Mama

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"Three cheers for tyranny/ Unapologetic apathy" Sleep

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"Just sleep/ Just sleep/ Just sleep/ Just sleep/ Wake up/ Wake up/ Wake up/ Wake up/ Wake up/ Wake up" Sleep

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"But if you're troubled and hurt, what you got under your shirt/ Will make them pay for the things that they did" Teenagers

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"I hate the ending myself, but it started with an alright scene" Disenchanted

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"About a lifelong wait for a hospital stay" Disenchanted

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"I spent my highschool career spit on and shoved to agree/ So I could watch all my heroes sell a car on TV/ Bring out the old guillotine/ We'll show 'em what we all mean" Disenchanted

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"So many bright lights to cast a shadow" Famous Last Words

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"I am not afraid to keep on living/ I am not afraid to walk this world alone" Famous Last Words

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"'Cause I see you lying next to me/ With words I thought I'd never speak/ Awake and unafraid/ Asleep or dead" Famous Last Words

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"I'm the kind of human wreckage that you love" Blood

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"Well my gun fires seven different shades of shit/ So what's your favorite color, punk?" My Way Home is Through You

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"We're not to give a compliment or sing about the government/ Or oxycontin genocide, adolescent suicide/ I'll give you my sincerity, don't give a fuck about a Kennedy/ Here's what I've got to say" My Way Home Is Through You

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"Sometimes you scrape and sink so low/ I'm shocked at what you're capable of" Kill All Your Friends

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"I was killing before killing was cool" Kill All Your Friends

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"And I can't tell if I've been breathing, or sleeping, or screaming, or waiting/ For the man to call, or all of the above/ 'Cause mostly I've been sprawled out on these Cathedral steps/ While spitting out the blood and screaming/ "Someone save us!" Heaven Help Us

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"'Cause I'll give you all the nails you need/ Cover me in gasoline/ Wipe away those tears of blood again/ 'Cause the punchline of the joke is asking/ "Someone save us!" Heaven Help Us

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"Heaven help us now/ Come crashing down/ We'll hear the sound/ As you fall" Heaven Help Us

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"Sometime you do things/ You have to do to survive" Emily

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"And if you open up your heart and stay so far away/ But you are all the same/ And if you maybe find a better way to love me, then/ You are all to blame" All the Angels

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This album is mother fucking insane dude

[brandileigh2003]

Guess what I got the courage to do!!!!

(I got ada seating, we got there early and my walker wasn't a problem. It was cool bc the band members actually sang in our direction too)

It was so so good. Citizen soldier made me cry and it was a I would do this again in a heartbeat

Pleasantly surprised by skydxddy. Omg. Trauma core 💯

You'd take my thirteen reasons why and give me a million to stay

You are enough!

When you're a little messed up When you're a little unwell And nobody understands That you are going through hell Right here like this right now You are enough When you've been broken and bruised Because the past has been tough Being human is What makes you something worthy of love Right here this sick right now You are enough So don't give up

They played the unreleased "burden"

I think that you never get heard By thinking someone's got it worse Been minimized so many times, that you believe it's deserved I think you've been silent since youth Cause every time you speak your truth, you're stigmatized Retraumatized by all the things you didn't choose I don't mind your darker side, you can lose control I'd rather hear your hell than see your funeral I think you say sorry too much, I think you've got issues with trust From the voices in your head that say that you're too hard to lovе I think you still live with the ghost of peoplе you needed the most That let you down and taught you how to keep your closet door closed But I've been there and I would rather die than watch you drown In tears that you need to cry You can talk, you can talk to me I can tell that you're not okay You can spill your guts, I won't leave You are not a burden to me You can talk, you can talk to me Even down in your darkest place You can let your skeletons scream You are not a burden to me

Would anyone care-- this song helped me find them and I realized that they did mental health songs like I've never heard before.

Would anyone notice If tonight I disappeared? Would anyone chase me And say the words that I need to hear? That I'm no burden Not so worthless Bent so much that I just might break All-consuming So confusing The questions that keep me awake Would anyone care, would anyone cry If I finally stepped off of this ledge tonight? Would anything change, would you all be just fine? 'Cause I need a reason to not throw the fight It just might save my life Would anyone want me If they knew what was inside my head? Would anyone see me For the person that I really am? I won't lie So hard to hide I've never felt worthy of love I would give up Everything I have Just to feel good enough If you're dying inside Sick of being alive Let me in, let me share in your pain From my lungs through the dark Spoken straight from the heart Let me give you a reason to stay If you're out there still lying awake If you're out there still wondering Would anyone care, would anyone cry If you finally gave up and turned out the light? The world would be changed if you left it behind You can't be replaced, no, tonight is the night You take back your life Take back your life

[ifuckingloveryoshu]

have you seen this fan mv for ryōshū? it's absolutely gorgeous and tore my heart out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NR993znfi-0

anyways: i am so hyped and also scared for canto ix... i have so many horrible headcanons and theories about what could be the truth and i'm pretty sure whatever pm comes up with is going to devastate me even worse

Id love to hear your horrible head cannons and theories! I'm very curious! Just say if you don't want me to comment on them or if I do, ill be nice. No judging too critically here if it's explicitly not wanted.

I love that video. I had a break down because of that video before. A friend sent it to me and then I chucked it into my music playlist. While I was working on something, I suddenly hear the song play and then I had to stop everything I was doing.

That was the start of last month, I was curled up and crying. I am personally too emotional because from the the title alone, that how mourning feels, at least in my life. "condolences, and then life goes on" and that needs to be bottled in. Busisness as usual. I have't experinced a lot of physical actual deaths of people. What i've expericed were deaths of relationships in the sense but it would feel unsympathetic to relate those to actual live people death.

This song is an active cogno-hazard to my head. If I ever play this whole video while watching it in its entirety, I will distort every time without fail.

I get personal under the cut talking about a recent death experince this year. Not related to Ryoshu. Again, thank you so much for the ask! I am also horrified for for canto ix once it happens.

The only time in my life that my perspective on mourning and death was altered a little was this spring or summer actually when I went to Florida to see the state of one of my aunts. She was in critical condition already and we knew she needed support. First day was fine, she was just unconcious with a hospital bed in the middle of her house. The past days before, she was fully concious and still talking. So, next day at night, there was an emergency and she was choking I think? Something happened with and her family surrounded her bed. She was quiet until in one second, her body started convulging and her eyes shot wide open, then she stopped moving all together. Her daughter wept and the men solemnly hung their heads. I felt like an outsider but we weren't expecting her to die so soon on our second day there. We were already on the phone with the EMT and it was in the middle of being instructed to get some sort of white box with something to inject. We found out nothing could have saved my aunt because the canser had already been affect her body, whatever was in that box was likely to spare us the abrupt jolt of her body.

Anyways, the days after, I kind of experinced how normal families mourn, and there was a great synchrony in that family even after the death. Maybe it helped that no one was working but they were united even after the death on the days of quickly scrambling to plan a funneral. There was love there and a feeling of keeping united. A meaning to the words "Death can bring people closer together.' right in front of my eyes. But that connection was there before, it was only strenghtened and I was a little jelous for their unspoken trust towards each other.

That connectivity was abscent when either of my grandparents died. They were just dead, we planned the funneral, had the funeral, that was over. Back to living. The lulled on more messured like a legato stanza because the family, even through the death and planning of the funeral stayed connected.

Im being over dramatic because when anyone else in the family dies, mostly my dad's side, its the funneral, eat food, that's all. Condolences, and then life goes on, an impersonal affair but we need to wrap things up.

I swear that and know this will absolutly change my thought process once I experince the death of someone actually close to me. It may happen sooner than I know it, I'm reminded of that every single day for better or for worse. Thank you if you've read this.

[hildegardladyofbones]

BUCKLE UP I HAVE A LOT TO SAY

10, 13-24 (yes this is twelve questions. they're very important)

Ooh boy. I will explain every answer because I feel like the answers are meaningless without context.

10. What song would you want played at your funeral? This one is hard. I don’t know which one songs will remain important to me, so I'll make a decision based on if my funeral was like. Tomorrow. So I'd say maybe perhaps "Isle of flightless birds" by tøp, or "the worst is over" by matt elliott. Both I've listened to for few years at least and I associate some important memories with both. Then there are also some estonian classics which I love ("see pole see" by marju kuut for example). It'd be funny if I chose danse macabre tho. "That's right, I'm dead, and you're next. Let's dance"

13. If you could commit any crime without consequences? The only murder that has actual appeal to me is the murder of the self/ego. And that one has no legal consequences so uh trespassing? I wanna look at some abandoned houses. Oh I also want to steal. I love thievery.

14. Would you rather know the date or the cause of your death? I was gonna say the cause but I'd actually wanna know the date on which I died. I want to know if it was the day of my birth. Have I ever been alive? That sorta shit

15. What would you do if you want a dead body in a hotel room? Do the selfish thing first and use it for inspiration and then call the police because I've practiced what to say wayy too often to let an opportunity like that pass.

16. Are we really living or are we slowly dying? Depends on the person, but I am slowly dying. I am already dead, but that death keeps evolving.

17. Do you like the taste of blood? I like the taste of blood the same way I like the sight of dead birds with snapped necks and the smell of cigarette smoke. (Yes)

18. If you had to lose a body part, which one? The obvious answer would be like "my middle toe" or something but as much as I hate feet a voice in my head would say my left eye.

19. Would you rather be frozen, burned or drowned? Burned. At the stake. Until nothing remains.

20. If there's a hell of some sort, do you think you're going to it? I mean. Probably? Depends on what's considered a sin worthy of damnation? Like i haven't intentionally damaged someone's property or sth, but I have done some minor immoral things and not felt that much guilt. I am also obsessed with myself, if that's anything. AND I'm 60% sure I'm gay. AND I am so full of envy and greed and gluttony and etc. AND-

21. How would you dispose of a body? I'd turn it into an installation art piece, that way no one would ever think twice about it.

22. Would you kill a stranger to save someone you love? Yes absolutely. I'd let them die or kill them myself. I am a helplessly devoted person.

23. Would you rather be burned at the stake, die a saint beloved by all, or die peacefully, but have nobody remember you? Oh my god- to go out in such a flashy and iconic way AND be remembered and beloved by all? That is everything I've ever wanted

24. Would you rather eat a part of a human heart or a whole human eye? First of all- I *hate* eyeballs, second of all- I love cannibalism and eating a heart could have such beautiful symbology to it.

25. What question would you ask the devil? Gimme the ability to turn my misery into art efficiently pls. Also how can I get horns like that? For Gender reasons

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Time and Time Again

A year ago today was your last day alive.

At work, there's a big white board in the break room where someone writes a 'staff question' every couple of weeks. In late January, for whatever reason, someone wrote, "If you could go back in time to any place at any point in history, where/when would that be?" A lot of my coworkers (we're all book nerds at the library obviously) answered really suspiciously: I wouldn't go back in time...or...it would depend on if my activity or even my mere presence could/would somehow affect the future. Some of them answered heroically: I'd stop Titanic from sinking, I'd stop (insert war(s) here), I'd stop 9/11. Some of them answered voyeuristically or fantastically: I'd go to Renaissance Italy, I'd go to the time of dinosaurs, I'd go to Woodstock. I said I'd go to December 7, 2023. I didn't explain myself. But I think it's obvious what I'd do if I could go back in time exactly 1 year. I'd drive to see you. I'd say all the sappy, difficult, embarrassing shit I always just basically said anyway, but I'd say it directly to your face so I'd know you heard me with certainty; you'd know I meant it. And I'd get you in the car with me under the guise we were going to some sports bar to eat wings and argue about college basketball but I'd take you to the emergency room, and I'd say, "I know he doesn't look sick, and I know he's telling you himself that he's fine and he seems pissed at me that I brought him here, but he'll be dead tomorrow, and I don't want him to be. I CAN'T have him die. So find what's wrong and fix it. Now."

Today, I'm having 'friends' over for lunch. Because my son says I need to build a community. I don't have a community, and it's bad for me, he says. So I invited these women over. But I wish I was traveling back in time to keep you alive. You were my community. God the prospect of, at 46, having to go through the mortifying ordeal of being known...again...sucks. I'd really rather not. I'll miss J and my son who are leaving me with these ladies today and wish they were home with me instead. I'll miss you. Still.

I've had 2 unexpected people contact me to 'get together' this week. Out of the blue. And of course there was the Counting Crows CD at work last week. A coworker brought in a few boxes of donations from a patron. "We just got a HUGE donation of DVDs and CDs if you want to look through them!" I wasn't even supposed to be working, but I was making up a half hour from taking off early to go visit you at the cemetery, and I never looked through the donations before. I did that time though. And Counting Crows' August and Everything After was the top CD on the stack. One of the best albums of all time, but I never owned it when we were young, because I didn't need to; you did. When we were kids and we bought each other gifts for birthdays and Christmases, you always bought me CDs. Mr. Jones is the song that played at your funeral, it was the song you were playing on the guitar in my favorite photo of you. It really felt to me like you were giving me a Christmas gift. And it really feels to me like you agree with my son and you want me to 'build a community,' so you're even like...weirdly sending me people.

Nobody, including these very people coming to my home today, contacting me to 'get together' now ever showed up for me before. You know that, man. You're the only one who ever showed up until J came along. Remember my 16th birthday? Where was T? Where was R? Where were my old elementary school friends? Where was my family? Absent. Just you were there. I don't trust these 'connections.' I still honestly don't believe these women are going to show up today even though I've (I think) casually checked several times. This nebulous lunch and brunch shit supposedly coming up in the next couple weeks feels off too. I know you want me to count on it like I could always count on you. I'm trying, man. I'm trying to 'build a community.' But really all I want is J and our son and our dog. And you back.

[onlylovefordandelions]

Its pride month. Here's one of my favorite Andrea Gibson poems. Its about the Pulse Nightclub shooting.

When the first responders entered the Pulse Nightclub

After the massacre in Orlando

They walked through the horrific scene of bodies and called out

"If you are alive, raise your hand."

I was sleeping in a hotel in the Midwest at the time

But I imagine in that exact moment, my hand twitched in my sleep

Some unconscious part of me aware that I had a pulse, that I was alive

The next day, I woke to the news that an assault rifle had fired

202 bullets through a gay bar, on Latin Night

In one of the worst massacres in US history

A massacre of people

Who did not leave the dance floor when they heard gunshots

Because they thought they were just the beats of a song

Everyone around me spent that day grieving and

Every tear was someone′s dance sweat, drying in the morgue

Later that night, I was on stage

Performing for an audience that had spent two hours in line

Waiting to get through the metal detectors

I couldn't keep my hand from covering my heart

I kept scouring the club for the fastest route to every exit

I knew the person working security was in a text war

And wasn′t keeping his eyes on the door

I knew there was a man in the fifth row

Picking at the seams of his duffel bag

Every few seconds, I'd eye the balcony

For the glint of whatever might aim

To tear the bodies off of the spirits of the boys holding hands

Or the girls with their hair cut short as my temper

When rage is a decibal I can actually get

When I not just grief sick and ruined

Watching history not be history, watching the music not be music

Knowing someone having the best night of her whole life said

"This is my favorite song."

And then a rifle lifted over a bathroom stall and emptied

A magazine into the kidneys of a grown man texting

"Mommy, I'm gonna die."

His hand prints in blood on the walls

Reaching for people dying in the fetal position

People covered in their friend′s blood

Sobbing too hard to hide from their own deaths

While people outside pushed bandannas into bullet wounds

It′s true, what they say about the gays being so fashionable

Their ghosts, they never go out of style

Even life, it's like funeral practice

Half of us already dead to our families before we die

Half of us on our knees trying to crawl

Into the family photo, that night

On stage I kept remembering being fifteen at Disneyland

Wearing my best friend′s hoodie like it was my boyfriend's class ring

How many years it took me to just touch her face

How many years I spent praying my heart could play dead

Till the threat was gone, till the world changed

Till history was history, but history

It just keeps coming for the high

Keeps shooting up bodies

Keeps drumming up reasons to have metal detectors at

Poetry readings where the poems

They′re just unanswered calls

To people who claim their God

Or their apathy, is unwilling to accept the charges

Dear God, how broke do you have to be, to not buy people time

To get out the door when the song goes to fucking hell

When this world drunk on hate

Decides blood is wine and drinks its fill

In the only place they ever thought was safe

In the only place they thought they did not have to hide

In the only place they were wanted because

Because of who they loved and how they loved and how they loved

Till someone walked through their bodies and asked who was still alive

And hardly anyone put their hand up

https://open.spotify.com/track/6xHEAa158iY2H3LpNZMqt0?si=8H90eM-vS2SocXEXZGcg_Q

[golvio]

I just recently replayed Wind Waker to get back into the Legend of Zelda spirit, and am now on a Ganondorf kick; what are your big Ganondorf Songs (aka songs that remind you a lot of him)? The only one I've really come across so far is "Waltz of Malice" by Kikuo

This one took me a little while to answer because it required me to go back through my archives a little to refresh my memory.

These are a couple of songs from my big ol' character playlist that I don't think I've specifically called out in my previous playlist posts. As with most character playlists, these don't always have a 1:1 meaning, but the general vibe matches how I interpret him.

Here are some, in no particular order:

Artificial Heart by Jonathan Coulton

Cleanse the Bloodlines by Unleash the Archers (Journey wide, they're spread across the land / they will hide, they know what I plan)

Kodokushi by Aesop Rock

Jumping Coffin by Aesop Rock

Draw by Elise Wattman

The Music Room by Raphael Benjamin Meyer

The Path to the Door by David Mason

The Laughingtrush by The Weather Factory (The Book of Hours demo has a lot of lovely tracks that I like to think could back Ganondorf going for a walk in the countryside)

Sun's Splendour by The Weather Factory ("Summer: Grail, with all her gifts")

What Now? by Mickymar Productions

Apollo and Marsyas: Overture by Mickymar Productions

Nemeses by Jonathan Coulton

I'm Gonna Win by Rob Cantor

Health Is A Currency by DEADLIFE

Belly of the Beast by Gazelle Twin

Mrs. Bluebeard by They Might Be Giants

River of Despair by Ridiculon

O Ruthless Great Divine Director by Lingua Ignota (Have they told you that I'll take you for everything you've got? / Ungoverned by any master / Unloved by any god / Have they told you that my tongue is alight with violet flame? / And every eye shall see me / Every voice shall speak my name)

Just Lingua Ignota in general, man, but particularly her album "Caligula," and "I Who Bend The Tall Grasses"

Tom the Diver by Petri Alanko

Wayward Sisters by Abel Korzeniowski

Come, Gentle Night by Abel Korzeniowski

"Vissi D'Arte" from Puccini's Tosca

The whole damn Lady Macbeth aria from Verdi's Macbeth, particularly "Vieni! T'affreta!" (I like to think this is what plays every time he picks some poor delicately-featured schmuck to be his lieutenant)

"Un bel di vedremo" from Puccini's Madama Butterfly (Waiting for that one dude who doesn't screw up and die horribly, because who says this guy can't have a sentimental side? Also, this is the aria they used as the backing track for "Don't Cry For Me, I'm Already Dead")

The Herminia Suite from Octopath Traveler

The Vide Suite from Octopath Traveler 2 (One of the few tenor performances that matched his vibe, to me)

Pillar of Souls by Sufjahn Stevens

A lot of Rammstein, particularly Ohne Dich, Mutter, Diamant, and a lot of stuff from "Reise Reise" and "Zeit"

The refrain from "Zick Zack," too. This is one of the songs where the lyrics/meaning as a whole doesn't really match him, but there's something of him in the idea of tearing yourself apart to put yourself back together in a shape you want. There was something about the way Cadence of Hyrule made it sound like his monster form was something he was actually actively pursuing since he was a little boy. I heard it a little bit in Beverly's monologue about her plastic surgeries (presented here as the ultimate culmination of her obsession with death and embalming, along with her cryogenic funeral parlor for celebrities) in the (admittedly NSFW-ish if your boss doesn't view life modeling and boob jokes as artistic) "Affairs of the Art." "You just gotta take control. It's your life. I mean, look at me! Check me out! I'm sculpting myself! My own body! I'm an exhibit, right? I'm a living gallery! My body is my art! Just go for it! What are you waiting for?" Here it's not the body as furniture for the patriarchy to judge as "valuable," but the body as a vehicle for pursuing one's dreams and obsessions, as Beverly came from a family of very likely autistic people who each devoted themselves to their life's passions, as eclectic and niche as they may be). It's like the principles of Moth and Forge, this wild yearning for transformation and the disciplined mettle and ingenuity to see it through, even if other people don't like the results and wish he'd change back into something more pretty or manageable.

This is about all I can muster for now, but I hope that's a good start and you find something you're looking for from it.

[sniffanimal]

Don't reblog thai bc I don't want it to be like some viral post yet I want to make this into an autobio comics but an extremely formative experience for me was when I was 10 I went to a Juggalo funeral.

You see, my big sister was married to this guy at the time, and this guy's brother, Nick, was a Juggalo. My sister and her ex husband were tangentially Juggalos, I think. A lot of their friends were. Nick had a very unfortunate early death related to his interest in various illicit substances and firearms. I didn't know him very well, I don't think he was at his brother's wedding or anything. But since he was family, I attended his funeral.

My mom helped organize some of it, including a slideshow presentation to play on a TV in the church lobby. This was like 2007 I think, so it was a looping series of photos of Nick set to November Rain by Guns n Roses (odd choice but ok). I was standing in the lobby for a long time, I think I was handing out a little In Memoriam pamphlet or something. In any case I listened to nearly an hour of that song looping.

Once it was time for the funeral to start, I enter this little downtown capel/event hall thing. I think there were pews so it must have been a church. You know how at a wedding when the two newlyweds families are really different people? And you can see that clear divide down the aisle? That's what it felt like, because on one side you had Nick's family, somber and wearing dark formal wear and clutching tissues. On the other side you had his Family, most dressed down, or in their nicest Tripp pants. A few with black and white clown makeup on, as you do.

An important thing to note about my experience here, is that at the tender age of 10 years old I was incredibly sheltered. My big sister had moved out three years prior, and I wasn't allowed to really see any of her friends for any reason. My family minus her were very conservative, straightedge people. I had been to funerals before this, but the culture shock I got from meeting Juggalos like this as a small child was something that permanently etched itself into my memory.

Now, this was an open casket service. When it came time for me to pay my respects to a man I barely knew, I approached the coffin to find that he wasn't dressed up like his friends. He was in a suit, his piercings removed. But around him in the casket like an Egyptian Royal Burial were pill bottles, Kandi bracelets, and other paraphernalia. I didn't really know much about drugs at the time but there was definitely some glassware in there. Eyes wide, I went back to my seat to go ignore the eulogy and go home.

That's where the story ended for 10 year old me. An extremely bizarre funeral to introduce myself to the idea of found family and my sisters weird friends. I would tell this story sometimes if it felt right, and people enjoy it. A few years ago, I told my sister how I talk about Nick's funeral a lot and she gave me some more information: I didn't go to the after party (because I was 10).

The after party took place at a public park a ways from the chapel. The night drug on with at least one person chanting at all times "true clowns never die". There were whipits to be had, and public nudity to be enjoyed. Pretty sure there was some cop mooning that occured. Oh to have had 10 year old me know about what it really means when a Juggalo dies.

My sister divorced her ex husband a few years after that, and I haven't seen him in over a decade. If only he knew the impact his brother had on me to this day.

I'm going to go trawl Facebook and see if I can find any pictures from the event, since it seems like something my sister would have posted. Though she was probably still on myspace then. But anyways I just felt like sharing my Juggalo funeral story since it'll be some time before I can really make it into a comic to tell the story

[gerogerigaogaigar]

My particular brand of neurospicy frequently finds me listening to long lists of albums for some reason. I did the 1001 albums you must listen to before you die a while back and I really wished I had written up my thots and feelings about each album. I've decided to embark on a similar quest through Rolling Stone's top 500 albums list and this time I'm reviewing each one for posterity.

The Rolling Stone list interests me in particular because it is, has always been, and always will be a hot mess. When the original list dropped in 2003 it was immediately blasted for being almost entirely straight white men playing rock music. It has been updated twice since and every update has diversified the roster. The way they crowd sourced votes for more diverse albums while still insisting on a lot of their dad rock classics is amazingly disingenuous to me. Even when they do put on diverse artists it's pretty obviously only because of a connection to some other white male rocker (The Raincoats were a favorite of Kurt Cobain, Indestructible Beat of Soweto was an influence on Paul Simon's Graceland, King Sunny Adé was an influence on Talking Heads). It speaks to a fascinating disconnect between what the out of touch boomers who make this list think should be on it and what they are willing to let on in order to appease people. Anyway I'm listening to the most recent version of the list and imma review every album here.

Arcade Fire - Funeral

I like giving albums second chances. A lot of my favorite albums are ones I did not like upon first listen. I don't think Arcade Fire is ever going to grow on me. The mixing sounds like the band and the recording equipment we're in different rooms and they just went with it. Every song kinda sounds like there's something interesting that could be happening but the mastering is trying to sabotage every track.

Rufus & Chaka Khan - Ask Rufus

Post disco but pre synths this album almost sounds like it would be more at home in the late 90s than 70s. The bass is juicy, the guitars are sleazy and Chaka Khan's voice compliments it beautifully. This is a neat little time capsule of an album that definitely was an influence on Soul music for years to come

Suicide - s/t

If you see the band name and right away think that this might not be your cup of tea then your instincts are correct. Every track is a nightmarish synth drone with barely sung vocals. The album's centerpiece is Frankie Teardrop, a 10 minute saga of desperation, murder, and suicide. A masterpiece, but not for the faint of heart.

The Indestructible Beat of Soweto

I'll go ahead and admit that my first introduction to mbaqanga music was obviously through the album Graceland by Paul Simon. Since then I've become a sucker for the bubbly bass and punchy plucked guitars common to South African music, so this album is just completely delightful to me. And hey we get a Ladysmith Black Mambazo track on here so I'm basically guaranteed to recommend this one.

Shakira - Dónde Están los Ladrones?

I had no idea Shakira had ever made an album like this. I had only ever heard Hips Don't Lie until now and was surprised to learn that she had an entire 90s career. This album is fucking fire. It's like if you took all the good parts of every late 90s alt rock album and smashed them together into an album that is almost too precisely perfect.

[captain-kit-adventuress]

I wanted to add some info about the ones with question marks. And maybe some fun facts about others.

"Surprise" Symphony - This is probably very apocryphal, but supposedly, Haydn wrote it the way he did because he was fed up with people falling asleep in his concerts. Which I get, because his music, to me, is boring AF. What's fun is to hear how very clearly he influenced Beethoven, who was his student. It's like Beethoven took the best of Haydn and put it into his own work and made something totally fantastic out of it.

That Chopin Nocturne™ (Op. 9 No. 2) - I will die a happy woman if I never, ever have to hear this nocturne again. There are so many better ones that deserve the love this one gets. Sigh. Seek out the posthumous Nocturne in E Minor, Op. 72, No. 1. SO much better.

Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring - This is a wonderful song, but it should never be played on an acoustic guitar–though it often is. You hear it a lot at weddings (before the ceremony starts) and it's a peaceful sort of thing that people can enjoy whilst they're waiting. Go with Sheep May Safely Graze instead. In fact, that's just good life advice.

Funeral March - Honestly, this one's pretty self-explanatory. You'll hear it a lot in cartoons if someone's about to die. It's actually quite haunting, and lovely if done well. Chopin tends to capture sadness better than most.

The Next Six Songs - Pretty sure each of these has appeared at least once in a cartoon starring Bugs Bunny. Also, seek out Elgar that isn't Pomp and Circumstance. He wrote some really cool stuff, like The Enigma Variations.

Für Elise - This one drives me batty because all people know is the first repeated notes. (Hmm, sounds like not one, not two, but at least three famous Beethoven pieces. Learn the whole thing, guys.) But it's actually pretty good, and has varying sections to it. I highly recommend listening to all of it.

Night on Bald Mountain - If you've seen the original Fantasia (1940), you've heard this piece.

The Fucik Piece (aka the 24 f guy) - I would love to see this guy in a head-to-head competition with Sousa (nicknamed The March King, because he wrote a shit-ton of marches), both for composition style and moustache-having. It'd be wild.

The Flower Duet - Also used lots of times over graphically horrifying things to add a sense of jarring whimsy.

The New World Symphony, 4th mvt especially, sometimes called "Largo" - I've heard a lot of classical music in my day, but honestly, there are very few pieces that can compete with it in my heart. Y'all think you know the main melody of this movement, but you don't. And I promise it doesn't hit as hard if you don't listen to the whole thing. The gorgeous, lush string part at the end needs the previous 8-10 minutes. It's the catharsis to the beginning's tumult. Imagine, if you will: it's been storming for weeks, maybe longer, and you've been stuck on a rickety wooden ship, tossed about by waves that crest the ship's sides and threaten to capsize everything. You've narrowly escaped death several times. And then, just as you think this was the most foolish voyage you've ever undertaken, you see land. You see the edge of the beach, and you can't quite hold down the rush of emotion from spotting a line of sand in the distance. It's not a trick, it really is what you've been dreaming of for months and nearly died to reach. The boat hoists anchor, and you're taken in a small rowboat to the shore. All you want to do is kiss the ground beneath your feet and thank all that is holy that you have survived. That's why you need the whole thing, not just the pretty melody at the end.

Ave Maria - There are lots of Ave Marias. This one is by Schubert, and one of my favourites. Another popular one is the arrangement by Gounod, set to Bach's Prelude No. 1 in C Major.

Canon in D - You mostly hear this at weddings and there's a million and one interpretations of it. If you don't like one, seek out another, I'm sure there's one out there for all. The TSO's version is really cool.

Adagio for Strings, Samuel Barber - I'm surprised this hasn't made any lists. It's most famously from Platoon (1986), but it's another one of those slow, sad songs that gets played over horrific scenes of violence. One of the best melancholy pieces of music ever written. Agnus Dei is the vocal version.

Sorry this got long, hope you enjoyed!

Classical Pieces You've Probably Heard but Might Not Remember the Name

William Tell Overture- Rossini (Most famous part at 8:45, but why not listen to the whole thing?) I’m adding hints, at least to the ones I recognized culturally. This one is “go, horsey, go!”

Also Sprach Zarathustra- Strauss Slow, dramatic entry scene, IN SPAAACE.

Eine Kleine Nachtmusik- Mozart People running out of a fancy wedding or something. Also known as DUN, dun DUN, dun DUN dun DUN dun DUUUUN.

Symphony 94, Mvt. 2 “Surprise Symphony”- Haydn ?

Toccata and Fugue in d Minor-Bach Halloween organ!

Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2- Chopin Picture a tiny old woman playing piano in a sunlit room with lots of flower vases, about the spill the tragic secrets of her past to some timid young visitor.

Rondo alla Turca- Mozart the babysitter from The Incredibles: “Time for some COGNITIVE ENRICHMENT!”

Sinfonie de Fanfares: Rondeau- Jean-Joseph Mouret Royalty is coming. Or someone is getting married. Or royalty is getting married. Also the PBS Masterpieces theme.

The Four Seasons: Spring- Vivaldi (I just linked to the whole thing because it’s great) Again, someone is getting married, but this one is strings instead and a lot less frumpy.

Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring- Bach That one that amateur guitarists love where the notes are all up and down but all the same length. Also used in movie weddings.

O Fortuna (from Carmina Burana)- Carl Orff SONG OF DOOM. Also song of “baby on fire!” in The Incredibles.

Funeral March- Chopin ?

Orpheus in the Underworld: Infernal Galop (A.K.A. Can Can)- Offenbach Well, “aka can-can” says it all.

Pomp and Circumstance (You probably graduated to this)- Elgar Oh yes, Baaaa dun dun dun duun duuuuun… Also if you were a bandie you had to play it for 3 years before graduating to it.

Gayane: Sabre Dance- Aram Khachaturian Comically hectic productivity, a circus clown juggling while standing on a ball, or perhaps a rapidly-approaching termite infestation. Could go any way, really.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream: Wedding March- Mendelssohn The song movies play right AFTER they both say “I do.”

Carmen: Les Toreadors- Bizet I can’t be the only one who remembers when ‘Hey Arnold’ did this. “Bullfights and swordfights, rolling in manuuure!”

The Ride of the Valkyries- Wagner Good song for a naval battle I guess? I can only think of the mini golf course I went to as a kid with the creepy castle on Hole 18 that played this.

Für Elise- Beethoven That one every amateur piano player loves to play because the beginning is just E and E-flat over and over. Also ballet and piano recital scenes in movies.

Dance of the Hours- Ponchielli Hello mudda, hello fadda, here I am at, Camp Granada…

Rigotello: La Donna e Mobile- Verdi More than a few sophisticated movie villains (or snobby good guys) have this playing on a Victrola. Also, tell me you don’t picture Pavaroti no matter who’s actually singing.

Night on Bald Mountain- Mussorgsky ?

Romeo and Juliet: Love Theme- Tchaikovsky More movie-love, usually building up to admitting they live each other.

Entry of the Gladiators- Julius Fucik I have one word for you: CIRCUS.

Lakmé: Flower Duet- Delibes OMG ALIAS. Nadia’s spy  backstory in Film Noir!

Peer Gynt: In the Hall of the Mountain King- Greig Mischievous Tiptoeing in Movies song. Also something growing out of control, slowly at first and then quickly, and (comically) exploding.

Rodeo: Hoedown- Copland The title says it all tbh.

Peer Gynt: Morning Mood- Greig Sunrise/waking up Movie Song du jour.

New World Symphony Mov. [2][4]- Dvorak Well now I’m thinking of “An American Tail” and I’m crying…

Ave Maria (You knew this, but did you know that it was by Schubert?) Nothing to add. I’m not a music snob, really, but if you didn’t know this, YOU SHOULD.

Canon in D- Pachelbel This is the one that the pretty Trans-Siberian Orchestra Christmas song comes from. :-)

Add others if you want! Have fun!