#and ben is all three of those things!!!
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ok listen i was a ben 10 girlie like anyone else obsessed with cartoons from the 2000s. i fucking LOVE the show let me start with that. ive rewatched the og series and alien force and ultimate alien multiple times. but i have such a hard time creating fanart/fic or even just engaging in general fandom because something doesnt quite click right and ive realized why: its because i cant dehumanize ben
ben turns into so many different aliens that it no longer matters. theyre costumes rather than a complete change with consequences. i would so much rather he get infected with one kind of super turbo powerful alien dna and we see how that changes him, physically and mentally, as he navigates this new world of monsters and fights aliens and eventually has to be made a peacekeeper of the universe all because he accidentally ended up with the omnitrix.
i want to see him go through whats basically alien puberty because hes growing into this and the omnitrix was never supposed to go to a literal child and i want him to lose his humanity as he gets lost in this world and never be able to go back.
i understand why we didnt get it and im not at all mad about it because i know this is a very specific thing i personally like to see. i just dont have the energy to make my own au so im ranting but man. i can dream.
also i want the necrofriggian babies back. i want to see ben raising his kids. i want him to struggle with being a teen dad. give me consequences to the silly events and let him go through the horrors and grow from it
#i love second gen content! but only when its drama filled and the parents really shouldnt be parents#and have to deal with so many hardships#and learn and fuck up sometimes and grow from the experience#whether its because of their attitude or trauma or because theyre too young#and ben is all three of those things!!!#this is a recipe catered specifically to me but we dont get to have any fun with it in canon#and i know why. but also im chewing cardboard about it#faeloops#ben 10
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ive never understood the true fun in fictional character apologism until ben linus
#i'm not even a ben linus apologist but it's like. yeah he did those things and some of them i want to maim him for myself#but also his allure is too captivating for me .#i want to gnaw on him like a chewtoy..........#why did they make a character like him. i want to put him in a snowglobe and rattle it around at maximum velocity#and best of all. why did he make him so gay#everybody looks at ben n the three men he was in kahoots with off island and theyre like.#this bitch has chemistry. something was going on there. and we are all right#especially ben and locke like jesus christ#<- wait i am making a separate postnfor this#op#lostposting#5 am things
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♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, virginity loss, degradation, abuse of power, Christianity, blasphemy, medieval times, corrupt priest, torture devices, abuse, punishment, misogyny, public humiliation, execution of non-named characters
♡ FEM reader
A scold's bridle, sometimes called a witch's bridle, a gossip's bridle, a brank's bridle, or simply branks, is an instrument of mirror punishment utilized by the church to publicly humiliate women who speak out of turn.
And you’ve unfortunately been deemed one of them…
You can only regret it now—wish you’d kept your mouth shut—wish you’d just held your tongue and spared yourself the poetic justice. You’d even been warned—that’s the dumb part, the part that makes the regret even more bitter. You’d been told gossipping would only land you in a world of hurt, and you, brave-faced and foolish, had ignored the advice. And now you’re facing the consequences.
Branks, an awful contraption, act as a muzzle in an iron framework, caging the head—quite like a helmet—a heavy helmet. Tight and trapping, it’s enough to make your head ache after a mere minute of wear. But that���s not the worst part. No, the worst part is the bridle-bit—a metal wedge about two inches long and one inch wide in size, of which they slide into your mouth, pressing down on top of your tongue—silencing you entirely.
But being unable to talk is only the first and least of many discomforts—as it also makes your jaw cramp up, and makes a humiliating amount of drool run wild down your chin—making you look like some or other rabid street mutt that’s ben muzzled for its own good.
The chunky metal collar you’re made to wear doesn’t help negate that imagery, nor does the bell attached to it—drawing in the crowds to the town square where you’ve been put on display, fastened to the tron for public judgment and ridicule.
Oh, and they are full of it today.
Standing there, an army of justice—warped faces and pointed fingers. The kids throw rotten fruit, and the elders fouler words—calling you a Jezebel.
At least you’re not alone up there but sharing the burden with a handful of other miscreants. One’s bent over in the pillory beside you—another three stand next to him up on the gallows, shaking in their piss-soaked boots, noose loosely around their necks—soon-to-be hangmen.
Thank God the worst things are thrown their way—at least they’ll be set free of it soon.
The poor sinners hang there still as the sun starts to set and most of the crowd’s gone home for the day, crows picking at the jelly of their dead eyes while the town’s church officer leads you away by leash.
With your hands and arms bound behind your back, you stumble barefoot and gracelessly through the streets—yanked along all the way from the town square up the hill to the church at the top for your final ruling.
You’re made to kneel on the cobblestone where the clergyman chains your iron collar to the wall.
You’d always pitied those put in the jougs, though you’d also thought them deserving—never knowing you’d be one of them someday. Now you know first-hand what being deserving means. In a town as small as this, where word travels as quickly as you can speak them, only a few ill thoughts will turn everyone against you.
Everything is in a state of discomfort, but at least you’ve finally escaped the town people’s heckling—now secluded in the peaceful quiet of God’s house to reflect in solitude.
Or… at least, that’s the standard procedure for such offenses.
“Alright then, little magpie,” the church officer announces while unscrewing the cruel headpiece.
It’s surprising. You’d for sure thought he’d leave it on. It was your understanding that it’s common for the scold to wear the bridle until morning and only then be freed.
But in any case, be it by pity or mercy, you’re ever grateful nevertheless and won’t complain.
But then, promptly after freeing your mouth from the bit, the man takes hold of your exhausted jaw and gives you a grave warning in its replacement, “Speak out of turn again, and it will go back on for another day in the tron.”
Goosefleshed and ashen from the spoken threat, you do your best to abide by it and remain quiet like the other church mice.
To which the father hums pleasedly, “Nod your head for me if you understand now, magpie.”
You do, looking up at him obediently—hoping he’d see it as enough and deem your punishment fully served, maybe even remove your bonds and collar as well.
“Good.”
He smiles knowingly, then drops your head. Scoffing loudly, “But of course… a bitch will always prefer being free from the muzzle… Don’t necessarily make ‘em well-behaved.”
You flinch at the words, eyes wide, looking up into his gaze, feeling small under the weight as he leers down his nose at you worse than that of the crowd earlier.
But what really makes your stomach curl are his ringed hands and how they move to his robes.
“Let’s see if this newfound virtue of yours is true and not just another one of your brazen tricks, shall we?” he suggests, leisurely undoing the knots to his drapes.
“When I’m done, and if you have managed to hold your tongue, I’ll consider you disciplined enough to return home,” he explains, dropping his attire unceremoniously by his feet before taking hold of your chin again. “If not, the bridle will go back on, and we will continue the lesson in the morning and every day onward until your mouth is as honest as if in the confessional.”
Your eyes flicker between his and peaking forward, barely withstanding whimpering when laying your eyes on it—the thing below his belly nearing your face.
“Remember now, magpie, no making a sound—neither word nor moan. I want complete silence.”
The grip on your chin tightens, and your eyes dart back up to his.
“Now open that gossiping trap of yours and accept God’s judgment.”
His other hand holds it in a gentler caress from your face, giving it a few languid rubs before knocking it against your sealed lips, ordering them to open.
It shocks you—enough to have you swallow a gasp—almost making an illicit sound that would all but seal your fate with the scold’s bridle for another day of suffering.
“Did you not hear me, girl? I said–” Impatient and roughened by his anger, he lets go of your jaw and deals a sharp blow to your cheek next. “Open your no-good sinning mouth!”
The hand goes to your hair next, tangling within the tousled locks to give your scalp a hard tug.
Again you’re in danger of making a sound but manage to stifle it by screwing your eyes shut—quickly baring your tongue for the priest and pliantly accepting the salty offering placed upon it soon after as if receiving communion on any other Sunday mass.
“That’s it, magpie—” he says then, softer now in praise. “No more tall tales, no more nagging.” His grip eases up but remains to hold you steady as he slowly and rightfully slides his length down to the very back of your throat. Groaning, ��Just be a good girl, now. Close your lips around me and suck—and you’ll soon be forgiven.”
You obey, locking your lips around him, tasting the sweat and tang, withstanding gagging as you force yourself into suckling and swallowing the foreign flavors down.
“Good. You see?” he sighs out in a groan, pleased while fucking your mouth.
Tangling both hands in your disheveled hair, he sets a rhythm of pulling you away and reeling you back in close—a tempo more than fair for an amateur throat like yours—only just deep and fast enough to make his weighty balls swing and graze your chin on every thrust.
“If all a woman does is run ‘er mouth—only using it to bitch and moan—they’ll never learn what it’s truly good for,” he gruffs, sinking deeper and settling there, holding your skull in place from pulling back. “But I’ll show yah—don’t worry.”
Your head soon heats up—bleeding red and thick with it—feeling tight and trapped and in dire desperate need to draw air—or at the very least, make some sort of discomforted sound in lack of it—yet under strict order to remain deadly silent.
“Good god, girl—I’m going all the way down that tight, hot guzzle—” he drawls, bullying deeper—and deeper. Hissing as he bottoms out, “Just the way God intended!”
His hips stutter, wearing your throat like a holster—lips stretched around his fat shaft, kissing his pubes with your nose buried in his well-fed belly.
With eyes rolling back beneath tightly shut lids, seeing spots of light in the enclosing void, you can’t help but flinch when hit with the glob of spit that falls and splatters between your brows. But at least the laughter that echoes throughout the church hall drowns out the sound of your heaving for air once he finally pulls out and frees your throat.
Maintaining a fist in your hair, he keeps you close—your temple to his hip, nose-kissing his strung shaft—struggling to catch your breath while his chuckles die down into humored hums.
“I’ve never had a throat that deep before,” he scoffs with a cruel smile—yanking your hair once again, pulling it back to make you face up. “One might call it witchcraft.”
Another hard slap is dealt in the same spot as earlier.
“Are you a witch maybe, magpie?”
And a third smack.
“Do I haf’to tie you to the stake next—have ourselves a roast?
Feeling your cheek sting white-hot, you shake your head—fighting to keep your whimpers at bay as silent tears dampen your cheeks—puffing up and rushing with blood post-strike, dulling to a numb yet lingering ache.
He doesn’t show mercy. Instead, it seems the pitiful display only makes him more rowdy—shoving you down to the cold cobblestone with an evil gleam in his eyes.
“Then let’s see you praise the Father,” he barks. “Bow and kiss his holy floor. I’ll judge whether you're a witch or not.”
You’re leash only barely gives you enough leeway to lower yourself. Hands remaining bound up tight behind your back, balled up and shaking in their knots as you bend over until your lips brush the dusty church stone.
“No, not a witch… but—” he hums, though not entirely convinced yet. “A true Christian would savor the taste of God's house.”
Your brows cinch, but you still do as suggested—producing your tongue and dragging it across the filthy tile—collecting dry silt and larger grains of sand—leaving behind a darkened wet trail on the otherwise ashen rock.
“That’s it, magpie,” the clergyman croons with a sneer. “Put that gossipping little tongue of yours to better use.”
You obey, eyes closed, continuing to lick the floor like a dog—fearing worse things would come if you didn’t. Wanting it all to be over and figuring if you just listen, it’ll be done quicker and as pain-free as you could hope.
“But do you deserve it?” he asks then, after a pause of watching you with his cock in hand, tugging it with raspy breaths getting rustier—continuing with a gritty tone, “An unwed woman can only serve the lord if she’s pure.”
His other hand returns to your hair for a third time, pulling you up by the tresses in a stinging grip.
“Are you pure, magpie?”
Goosefleshed by his darkened tone, you cower under his pointed glare. Keenly nodding your head as much as his hand allows.
Still, he doesn’t seem convinced. Huffing, “We’ll see.”
He drops you again. Now, with a new order, “Turn and bow with your tongue back on the floor.”
You do as he says, though shakily. Gut folding and churning within—throat tight, even under the metal collar, snaring—making your head pound with alarm as you shift on your knees until you’re facing the wall with your back to him, lowering your head down until your swollen cheek neatly squish against the cool stone—tongue splayed out on the earthy rock once again—with your rear raised for the priest’s inspection.
Your nails sink into your palms in the same painful crescents as before while the clergyman lifts your greyed and tattered frock like he’s unveiling a blushing bride—and, similarly to the groom, throws the skirt atop your sloped back, bunched up with the rest of your dirtied dress—leaving your legs and thighs and ass bare to his preying eyes.
He rumbles heavily, pleased by the sight of your pretty little virgin cunt—quivering in the crude and callous open air.
Crouched behind you in perfect level with it, you can all but feel his eager leer rake through you before his finger does—slicing through your pussy-lips and quickly disappearing inside your formerly untouched hole.
You flinch, squirming at the unfamiliar feeling—breaths damp against the ground as you await the verdict.
“It’s tight,” he grumbles, assessing you with a knuckle-deep digit, before scoffing, “But surely… no true virgin is this wet.”
Your eyes widen at the accusation, and he slips his finger out again and stands up with a sigh, “I can’t make sure with a finger alone.”
Then suddenly, he grabs onto of your hanches and lifts your hips higher until your thighs straighten up—and promptly lays his still-hard and hot-blooded member to rest between the cheeks. With his knees bent, a toppling tower over you, he slides through the crevice, rubbing upon your scrunched asshole as he does.
You stir for the first time, but his hold tightens in turn.
“Keep that tongue out, magpie. And don’t you dare make a single sound, y’hear? Or else the branks go back on.”
You fall still—scared in place—eyes screwed shut as his cock falls from the peak of your ass down to your glistened entrance, prodding the small opening with the tip, trying to force it inside, but kept at bay until the narrow ring of muscle finally gave and allowed him to tear through.
“Wheew—undoubtedly a virgin!” he whistles with his head gaining purchase. Groaning at the close fit. “Taut and tight and sensitive—and just perfect for taking seed.”
Meanwhile, you suck in a gasp—tongue still pinned to the floor—only barely managing to suppress the cry that had wanted to follow.
Choking it down, you nurse yourself through it with a string of deep breaths instead—even as he starts prying further inside—letting your cunt hold the head as he gives it shallow digs, working you open to take his full length.
“That’s it—good magpie,” he moans, pulling you back on his cock by your hips, treading you on like a sleeve. “Take it deep.”
He starts thrusting, and your breath weakens into thin stutters—tongue hanging limply from your mouth all on its own. Eyes glazed, looking toward nothing—rocked steadily as the corrupt priest pounds you like a cheap whore—sore cheek scraping against the stone floor.
And still, you’re silent—as if having taken a vow.
The only sounds echoing throughout the church are the clergyman’s grunts and the steady fwop fwop fwop of his balls clapping your sopping cunt—almost reminiscent of the church bell’s clangoring.
“Almost there now, magpie,” he chimes from above. “Milk my cock and take my seed in your womb, and you’re forgiven.”
It almost sounds too good to be true. Even as everything aches and you’ve become certain you might just remain mute forever onward, the thought of freedom is enough to bring new hopeful tears to your pitiful eyes. So, as the warmth of his release soils your inside, it’s also joined by overwhelming relief.
A moment or more passes. You don’t take your tongue off the floor, and he remains above you, pumping his load into your deep, dumping it all at depth as if burying some dirty secret.
At some point, he pulls out—cock now sluggish and spent. You feel its spillage matte on the inside of your thighs—also hidden as he drapes your skirt back in place.
Unbothered with his own clothes, he stands there before your bowed body—now with an accent of full-bellied satisfaction as he pronounces you free of sin in bad Latin—crossing his chest and kissing his knuckle before looking up to the ceiling at the God you’d grown sure he didn’t even believe in.
“Rejoice, magpie,” he mocks while leaning over you to untie your hands. “You’re now free to go.”
But as you lift your head, he still holds out on removing your collar.
Holding your chin instead, he looks down at you like before, saying, “But it would do you good to remember…” His free hand taps your cheek, softer now but hard enough to make you cringe. “You run that bitch mouth again, and in my church on your knees is where you’ll end up. Understand?”
And just like before, you nod your head for him—still as silent as a church mouse eager to escape the beast’s ugly jaws.
He seems pleased with that and gives you a crooked smile, purring, “Good.”
He then fishes the keys to your collar from his heaped robes and, at long last, unlocks it from your throat.
And by God, as you wobble out of the church, it feels as if you've been let free from hell.
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
#not really yandere but i can't be bothered to find correct tags#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#male yandere x reader#smut#yandere insert#yandere original character#yandere oc#yandere male#male yandere
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Star Wars Time Travel Rec List
About time I put together a General Rec List for Star Wars Time Travel, yeah?
Organized by the time-traveling character(s). I'm adding a star for my favorites that imo you have to read. I'm not going to claim that those are necessarily the best, because I feel like that's not objective and also kinda mean to the ones that are good since they might just not be to my personal taste, but they are my favorites.
Obi-Wan
Anakin Skywalker
Ahsoka
Clones
Other Prequels-Era Characters
Two or more people
Luke or Leia
Other
Tagged authors where I could. If they aren't tagged, I either couldn't find their tumblr, they have their settings such that no one can tag them, or they blocked me for one reason or another.
Obi-Wan
It Was Another Time and I Another Man by Pell_Binterhol - under "Groups"
Ashes To Ashes, Dust To Dust by @livsy ~35k+, complete Obi-Wan is a time traveler, mental from the OT. What makes it unique is that the fic is from Anakin's POV. It's a very heartwarming piece.
⭐Take it from the top and try again by @mauverawrites ~170k, series - two fics complete, more on the way Possibly the best way to describe this series is as the platonic ideal of an Obi-Wan time travel fic. Weird Force stuff? Check. Obi-Wan having spent years on Tatooine? Check. Qui-Gon surviving? Check. Obi-Wan doing some shady illegal stuff to get money and infiltrate crime rings so he can save the galaxy? Check. Anakin being adorable as an initiate, and Shmi being saved from Tatooine? Check. Surprise Feemor? Check. It's all the bits you (or at least I) hope for when opening a new Obi-Wan Time Travel fic, and it never feels stale or repetitive or cliche. It's just a Very Good Fic.
The Exchange by @misslearn - under "Groups"
An Abundance of Obi-Wans by The_Last_Kenobi (orphan_account) ~45k, abandoned Unfortunately we'll never know how this ends, but it's a lot of fun while it lasts. Baby Obi is being haunted by three ghosts of his future self.
A Padawan at War (Again) by @itstimeforstarwars - under "Groups"
Free Jedi to Good Home by @itstimeforstarwars- under "Groups"
These Paths by HiddenEye - under "Groups"
⭐the massive machinery of hope by @killbothtwins 150k, complete Do you want comedy? Yes, you do. This one is great. Go read it. It's one of my favorites for a reason, and the reason is that Obi-Wan is a sarcastic little shit with a billion quips.
Living Memory by elsa3beth 353k, on hiatus, possibly abandoned? Obi-Wan Time Travel, leans a bit more heavily into the distrust and despair surrounding Anakin (due to Vader things from the future) than most.
⭐The Desert Storm/Rise and Fall by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning ~1.6m (1592k), ongoing This is one of the longest, most consistent, best-regarded time-travel fics in the fandom for a reason.
⭐Reprise by Elfpen ~560k, ongoing Another Obi-Wan time-travel fic, this one using that favored cover story of "Ben is Obi-Wan's biological uncle," and I love it so much for how it explores both characters and political events.
Realign the Stars by @fortunerainwrites, @TerinAngel - under "Groups"
Current of Fate by @feybarn ~195k, on hiatus? It's been so long since I read this one that I can't quite remember what it was that I liked about it so much, and it's too long to do a reread right now... but I do remember loving it, especially when it switches to an outsider POV for the second fic.
Anakin Skywalker
The Exchange by @misslearn - under "Groups"
A Padawan at War (Again) by @itstimeforstarwars - under "Groups"
Free Jedi to Good Home by @itstimeforstarwars - under "Groups"
War Drums by @intermundia ~91k, ongoing Vader travels back to TPM. Runs off with Obi-Wan into the stars to Achieve Some Goals to take down Sidious. Gets quick-aged to 19 by some Dathomiri magic. Projected to be Obikin.
These Paths by HiddenEye - under "Groups"
Old Promises by @threebea ~65k, ongoing Time Traveler Anakin panic-kidnaps Initiate Kenobi. Absolute disaster of a man.
An (Un)fortunate Haunting by @kooriicolada, @scarletjedi 3.5k, oneshot Anakin thinks the Vader ghost haunting him is a hallucination. This one is technically more than just Anakin, but it's... mostly Anakin.
⭐Force of Many Sights by DAsObiQuiet ~480k, on hiatus? Vader to TPM, possessing his younger self. This fic has a heavy, and much-appreciated focus on therapy as it functions for someone of Vader's... particular situation. This is also technically a "Groups" series, since it's also got Siri Tachi as a time-traveler, but her POV is much smaller, and it takes... I want to say about 100k words for her to really start playing a more active role in the plot.
Realign the Stars by @fortunerainwrites, @TerinAngel - under "Groups"
Ahsoka
I don't know why all the good Ahsoka time travel fics are her as part of a team, but they do in fact fuck, so. I LIED I forgot to bookmark one of the Ahsoka fics I like.
Free Jedi to Good Home by @itstimeforstarwars - under "Groups"
These Paths by HiddenEye - under "Groups"
Realign the Stars by @fortunerainwrites, @TerinAngel - under "Groups"
Living in Borrowed Time by @scribbling-albatross - under "groups"
⭐Although He Smiles by @autumnillustration - ~157.6k, ongoing This one is amazing, it's an Ahsoka main, and she is very funny with Padawan Obi-Wan and adorable with 9yo Anakin. Lovely.
Clones
love is with your brother by Petrichor (Mythmaker) ~8k, complete TCW Rex bodyswaps with his baby self. POV is Ahsoka during the clone wars.
Free Jedi to Good Home by @itstimeforstarwars - under "Groups"
These Paths by HiddenEye - Rex and Cody - under "Groups"
Realign the Stars by @fortunerainwrites, @TerinAngel - Rex and Cody - under "Groups"
Living in Borrowed Time by @scribbling-albatross - Rex - Under "Groups"
⭐Dominoes by meridianpony ~380k, ongoing All five Dominoes go back to the beginning, from the points of their deaths! (Disclaimer: Echo's treated as having died at the Citadel. I think the fic started before his survival was revealed.) Technically this is a group, but all five are clones, so...
Other Prequels-Era Characters
there is no death by @ashkav ~140k, ongoing There is something really cool about Cal Kestis time travel fics, especially when he's got a decent amount of knowledge of The General Situations (e.g. Anakin will become Vader) but is missing so many details, like Why and How.
⭐An Echo in the Force (a whisper in a cave by @stardust2flame ~8k, complete Feemor is trapped in a time loop. This was actually written as a gift to me, so it has a special place in my heart.
⭐Mace Windu Fixes the Timeline... And Breaks it in Whole New Ways by AbsentmindedAuthor98 ~52k, ongoing Absolutely choice series based on an AU by @suzukiblu. Mace Windu does some time-traveling. He takes on Anakin as his padawan on an impulse, but he ends up doing his damnedest to be a Good Master for the kid. Depa helps.
Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge by @yellowocaballero - Fox - under "Groups"
Make a Brand New End by @batshieroglyphics ~120k, I think on hiatus Another Feemor fic! This one's not time-loop, just time travel. Lots of juicy Qui-Gon drama.
⭐Not a Good Man by @feybarn ~28k, ongoing Imperial era Boba Fett goes back to AotC. He decides to fix things, partly by trying to get his dad to fall in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.
a distant fire is burning by e_va ~47.5k, ongoing This is another Cal fic! It's got video game logic in it. Also, Anakin and Cal are both being so weird about sort of being adoptive brothers, it's great.
⭐They Don't Care About Us by @ironhoshi Time traveler Boba! And Cal! They're doing great, sweetie. Their best. Obi-Wan and Jango are mostly just confused. (Has anyone checked on Anakin? Someone needs to go check on Anakin. Again.)
Groups
It Was Another Time and I Another Man by Pell_Binterhol ~200k, incomplete This is a very fun fic that involves multiple time-travelers from multiple points in time. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon from the Legends novels are pulled forward into TCW, and Old Ben and Luke are pulled back from the OT, and some spoilers as well.
⭐The Exchange by @misslearn ~120k, complete A swapping-style time travel. RotS Anakin&Obi-Wan end up in TPM, and TPM Anakin&Obi-Wan end up in RotS. Shenanigans ensue. (Also trauma.)
⭐Can We Start Over? by @triscribe ~22k, ongoing Most of the Jedi have time-traveled from the points of their deaths to about a year pre-AotC. Some handle it better than others. The POV is Aayla, which I find very cool.
A Padawan at War (Again) by @itstimeforstarwars ~183k, ongoing It's technically more of a de-aging than a time-travel, but hey! Still a good read! TPM Anakin and Obi-Wan take the place of their TCW selves, who no longer exist.
⭐Free Jedi to Good Home by @itstimeforstarwars ~complicated as the second fic has been hidden, ongoing This is one of my favorite series, but as you can see by the above, it's in a bit of a timeout right now. Bookmark it for later? Also, there's an entire side series called Inspired By One Hundred Hours To Rearrange The Stars.
These Paths by HiddenEye ~90k, complete Our five TCW mains (Obi-Wan, Cody, Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex) are booted forward to the Original Trilogy. The latter three are deaged to their TPM ages (9, 4, baby respectively). Also it's CodyWan.
Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge by @yellowocaballero ~33k, complete Leia and Fox time travel! This one is very dark. That said, it has a comedic counterpart that I love, which is only available on tumblr: ⭐Fox & Leia's Holiday Special
⭐Realign the Stars by @fortunerainwrites, @TerinAngel ~68k, abandoned Obi-Wan, Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, and Cody, from TCW to TPM. Despite the unfinished state, I cannot deny the oddly intense level of influence this fic has had on my own approach to star wars time travel fics.
⭐Living in Borrowed Time by @scribbling-albatross 118k, ongoing Rex and Ahsoka are time-travelers! They are so, so very fucked up. Sure do wish they had access to therapists that could actually be cleared for knowing their Extensive Lists Of Traumas. This one definitely had a huge impact on how I characterize Rex and Ahsoka since I entered the fandom.
Luke and Leia
Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge by @yellowocaballero - Leia - under "Groups"
There is another Skywalker by WabiSabi ~85k, on hiatus? Time-Traveler Leia! Mentally in the sequels, physically in her thirties, and chronologically in the clone wars. Also Luke's sharing space in her noggin.
Shifting Sands by @chancecraz ~180k, ongoing "Ongoing? But it hasn't updated since 2021!" The last time it updated, the chapter was 65k, after over two years of radio silence. Trust me when I say that the lack of recent updates means nothing for this author. Anyway, Sequels Leia to about a year pre-TPM, hangs out with baby Anakin and Shmi and then neatly inserts herself in the plot.
⭐Of Queens, Knights, and Pawns by @chancecraz ~860k, ongoing Same author as above, same disclaimer for the gap since last update. Sequels Leia does a mental time-travel into her ANH self, specifically the 'being tortured on the Death Star' moment. It's so fucking good.
Old Man Luke by @scarletjedi ~110k, ongoing Sequels Luke to TCW! He is very cryptic, channeling the Jedi who taught him! Fun!
⭐Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight ~53k, ongoing Luke and his students (including Ben Solo) travel back in time to a bit before AotC. They decide the best way to proceed is to pretend they are Sith Lords. This is primarily a comedy fic. Luke really enjoys fucking with people.
⭐Don't Look Back by @this-acuteneurosis ~700k, ongoing Post-OT Leia (after the deaths of most of her friends) physically time travels to a year or two before AotC. She is taken in by the Lars family, and then she and Shmi start to head for Coruscant, run into Padme, and join the Nabooan government in Padme's employ. Do you want a fic that feels like 70% politics and logistics and trade routes? Because that's what this is and it's great.
Other
The Way of Conquest by pagination ~76k, ongoing There is something very funny about the time-traveler not even realizing they are about thirty years into the wrong time. Din has no idea when he is. Grogu does, but he's not telling.
#time travel#phoenix recs#star wars#the clone wars#sw prequels#sw ot#obi wan kenobi#anakin skywalker#ahsoka tano#captain rex#commander cody#feemor#mace windu#luke skywalker#leia organa#din djarin#cal kestis#commander fox#boba fett
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where is she?
Summary: Soldier Boy only has one thought in mind when Homelander wakes him up: you.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader
A/N: Wrote this on July 29th. This was meant to be a drabble and I was going to experiment with a different format at the time but after taking another look at it close to a month later, I decided against it. I haven't seen Season 4 of The Boys yet but I did see a gif on here of something from the finale in regards to SB. This idea popped into my head that day and I wrote it out. Starts from the Tower scene in 3x08, an AU. Unbeta'd. Full dialogue in text is from 3x08.
Warnings: drug use; violence; violence against a woman; choking (not Butcher/Boys friendly)
Word Count: 1019
Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel
SB Taglist: @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy
@solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444; @faephoria
@believeinthefireflies95; @globetrotter28
Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @rebel-paladin; @deans-spinster-witch
@bts24; @roseblue373; @nancymcl; @c1gs-coffee; @peachhiz
@kickingitwithkirk; @fanfic-n-tabulous; @illicithallways; @mentallyillandgae
You can also read on AO3
You burst into the room from the stairwell, finding Ben trying to fight three of your new supposed teammates off, his eyes full of fury and a slight tinge of fear immediately finding you as they slipped a mask over his face. “I’m not…going back…in that fucking box!”
“Get off of him! Now!” You angrily yelled, energy pulsing from your hands as you tried to rush them when Butcher caught you off guard and knocked you into a wall on his way to get to Ryan.
“Sorry, luv.” His expression was full of trace amounts of remorse as he turned from you but you didn’t care. Your attention was on Ben alone.
When Ben saw you slam into the wall, even more fury seemed to emanate from him and he was finally able to push everyone off. His chest was a bright pulsing red that continued to get brighter and brighter; he was charged up and he was about to blow.
“You’ll kill everyone!” Starlight implored.
Ben’s expression didn’t change and you knew you had to get to him before he went off. You didn’t care about any of them, especially now, and you didn’t care for yourself. But Ben you cared about and you wouldn’t let him do this — not again.
“Ben!” You called.
Within the seconds it took for you to get to your feet, Maeve was already launching herself at him and they crashed through the window of the high rise, plummeting stories below. “No!” You rushed to the edge, watching their freefall in horror. “BEN!” You screamed before the impact of the explosion sent you careening backwards.
When Soldier Boy was woken for the second time, uncaring who was there to greet him, he only had one question. “Where is she?”
America’s Asshole of a Son, now suited up, stared out at the city from Homelander’s newly renovated suite. His own son watched him, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.
“It could all be ours, you know.”
“Don’t care,” Soldier Boy growled out. “Where’s Butcher?”
Homelander sighed in disappointment and approached. He didn’t know much about the man whose blood he shared but one thing was for certain: Soldier Boy was laser focused when it came to revenge. He just happened to be focused on the wrong thing.
When he reached the older man, he studied him for a moment before nearly rolling his eyes. “You actually loved her.”
He shouldn’t have been surprised when Soldier Boy turned a lethal glare onto him, his pupils dilated from the drugs coursing through his system that he’d just snorted, but it still caught him a little off guard. Homelander didn’t feel shame or remorse; those were human feelings and he was a god. But right then, he felt like a small child scolded by that dark gaze and his shoulders subconsciously lowered an inch.
“Find me Butcher or I will find him on my own,” the Supe threatened before walking away. Homelander watched him go, angry that even while dead you somehow still managed to fuck with his plans.
Right before Soldier Boy was about to strike a killing blow to Butcher, Hughie yelled, “She’s alive!” The Supe froze and turned a scowl onto Butcher’s dickrest.
“I promise,” the bitch insisted. “I can tell you where she is! Just don’t kill him. Please.”
Soldier Boy’s glare dropped to the man swaying in his hold, his face bloodied, bruised, and swollen. The supe's jaw tensed and he dropped the man to the ground, making him a silent promise that he would still pay for his betrayal, before his eyes landed on Hughie. “Take me to her. And you better be telling me the fucking truth or you’re never going to get to feel the warmth of this fucker’s mouth again.”
Hughie’s eyes widened but he gave a nod. A hint of a smirk teased the corner of Soldier Boy’s lips for a moment and then disappeared completely. Before following the bitch out the door, he gave Butcher one last kick for good measure.
Soldier Boy tightened his grip on Grace Mallory’s throat and lifted her body higher up the wall. He ignored Hughie’s whiny pleas of not hurting the old bitch. “Open it,” he ordered. “Now.”
Hughie did just that. The supe could hear a whirring sound behind him and he intensified his glare at the woman he was currently choking out before turning to look over his shoulder. Out of a drawer, a cryotube emerged, looking quite different from the one he had been in when his pussy of a son had found him. His breath caught in his chest when he saw you inside, slumbering peacefully, tubes wrapped around your barely dressed body. Rage began to flow through his veins when he realized that you had been stocked away inside a fucking sock drawer like a second thought — like you had never mattered. You were the only thing that mattered.
He turned back to Mallory, gritting his teeth, and his body shaking with fury. He saw the lack of fear in her eyes and in a split second, his decision had been made. He flung her across the room, not caring about the sickening cracks he heard when she made impact. For good measure, when Hughie tried to run to her aid, he brutally knocked the kid aside and made his way towards you. Within seconds, he had the cryotube open and he ripped the wires from your body. He curled his arm around your shoulders and carefully hoisted you up into his lap.
A few heartbeats later, your eyes slowly began to open, your lashes fluttering repeatedly as you returned to consciousness. Your gaze struggled for a minute to focus on the image in front of you but when it did, you rasped out in disbelief, “Ben?”
A soft smile played upon his lips as he ferried your hand to his bearded cheek. “Yeah, doll. It’s me.”
When you attempted to return his smile, he leaned down to whisper, “I found you,” before he gently pressed his mouth to yours.
dividers by @firefly-graphics
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x y/n#soldier boy fanfiction#thebiggerbear writes#where is she?#soldier boy x you
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📅 seungcheol x fanbase!reader. (2)
the one where seungcheol gets all most of his svt news from your no-nonsense fanbase. previous chapter. headcanons under the cut. ➤ see also: svt burner accounts series
SVT 🗣🔥🔥 🟢 13 members active.
S.COUPS 🍒 Dinner on me tonight 8PM. Don't be late
uji ς(>‿<.) ?? Not complaining, but to what do we owe the pleasure
🐸 eisa 🐸 Can we get meat pleaseee
Jeonghan! cheollie is happy today hohoho~ his little crush wants one chance with him~ ♡
KMG 🥔 oh??? 😏 is this the fansite
S.COUPS 🍒 Fanbase Not fansite There's a difference ><
Jeonghan! of course there is hehe~
S.COUPS 🍒 Do you guys want dinner or not?
soonyoung .ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ ON MY WAY
sound_of_coups • 17m ♫ Ben&Ben - Lifetime
sound_of_coups i'd spend a lifetime waiting 🌨️ Liked by pledis_boos, vernonline, and 1,932,049 others View all 2,109 comments
jeonghaniyoo_n :-) sound_of_coups :--) ashtruther Stay warm, Cheollie!!!~ benandbenmusic 😲 Thank you for listening to us! scoups4lyf those cheeks 🤏 raaah yourusername ❤️
This Could Be It (English Translation) Genius English Translations • Track 3 on S.COUPS - CHERRY ON TOP
Please tread lightly Step inside the garden of my mind Please speak kindly Tragedy and I are intertwined But I can paint the sky with colors Of my misery (hmm) If you come closer, you can read it In my history (hmm)
Please go slowly Gentle is the water in my veins But I would be careful not to Bother creatures lurking just the same ‘Cause once I feel the tide as it rises My boat capsizes
And every minute passing Could bе time that I am spending Talking to you on the phonе It’s been too long since I have been alone And I am hoping That this could grow into something But who am I to know how you define a home? Oh I don’t know you yet But this could be it
Please be warned, oh I’m a bit straightforward when I sing And I have the tendency to Get obsessed with every little thing ‘Cause once I have a grain of thought That I’ve planted It blooms in my head
And every minute passing Could be time that I am spending Talking to you on the phone It’s been too long since I have been alone And I am hoping That this could grow into something But who am I to know how you define a home? Oh I don’t know you yet But this could be it
‘Cause once I feel the tide I drown, I fight the current Pulling me down I overflow and I try to hide it
Now am I too much for you Way too damn much for you? No such thing as too much So you better take it or leave it But this could be it This could be it Oh this could be it
Who produced "This Could Be It" by S.COUPS? ⓘ Genius Metadata
"This Could Be It" by S.COUPS was produced by WOOZI (우지) & VERNON (버논).
Who wrote "This Could Be It" by S.COUPS? ⓘ Genius Metadata
"This Could Be It" by S.COUPS was written by S.COUPS.
S.COUPS "CHERRY ON TOP" Lyrics & Meaning | Genius Verified
👤 a lot of fans were surprised with track three, or 'this could be it'. can we talk about that for a bit?
🍒 i'm sure not a lot of people were anticipating an almost indie, pop-folk number on my first EP, but i live to defy expectations. [laughs] there's not much to say about the song except that it's about that very specific instance where you kind of... fall in love with a stranger? that's in the line 'but who am i to know how you define a home', for example.
👤 you're the sole writer of the track. was it a personal experience?
🍒 you're trying to get me in trouble! [giggle] okay, seriously. don't we all have moments like that? where we daydream over something or someone that we want. honestly, my favorite part of the track is the outro. [sings] am i too much for you, way too damn much for you? no such thing as too much, so you better take it or leave it. but this could be it. [speaks normally] you're never 'too much' for the right person. there's just... you. it's a song about wanting to know, wanting more with someone, who you know can be 'it' for you. the word is on the tip of my tongue—
👤 'yearning'?
🍒 that's it. it's about yearning for someone and what the two of you could be, given the chance.
› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao | note: this could be it is from the lovely opm singer, reese lansangan. :)
#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#seungcheol imagines#scoups imagines#seungcheol smau#scoups smau#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine#── ᵎᵎ ✦ series: svt burner#[ pt 2 as per popular request. <3 ]#[ i'm honestly surprised at the reception for this verse!!! but ty for liking it everyone :D ]#── ᵎᵎ ✦ queued!
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Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.
Masterlist: Prev; Next;
Chapter 2 - Spider Luck
Morning came quickly despite the shitty sleep you received that night. The constant tossing and turning, the constant fear and anxiety of getting caught or broken into, really you couldn’t catch a break.
Despite that, you did get some sleep, even if the sum total was like three hours. Still, it’s not like the nightmares would have let you sleep regardless. All your failures would consume your thoughts and drown you, reminding you of your losses.
Sure you moved on, but it’s not like you had forgotten. Uncle Ben’s wisdom, Aunt May’s lessons, and Peter Parker’s kindness. You vowed to honor and cherish those memories, but here you are, in another fucking world, with a high possibility of you breaking some laws just to get out.
Desperate people do crazy shit, and you aren’t that sane to begin with.
Luckily this motel has a shower and you plan to use it. Making sure to clean yourself with what you have (unfortunate) and pick up the necessities that you desperately need.
Taking your time (since you paid for it) you get yourself ready, making sure your mask, gloves and (stolen) wallet are secured inside the hoodie’s pockets. Suite nice and tucked underneath the turtleneck and leggings. First order of business is shoes. Maybe that should have been your first mission yesterday- oops.
You definitely should have followed the young spiderlings example and fight crime with shoes. Well if you ever meet them again, you will…
When you meet them again. You will. You have to. No matter the cost.
And then your stomach rumbled. “Great! Time for cheap food. Wonder if that knockoff Wack-Donld place is open.
Oh that’s a nice plan. But you forgot one thing, genius. Where is it? How would you know where it is? You can’t even map it since you also don’t have a phone.
About to unlock the door, you realized something. It already was unlocked… “Hmm…” Well, it was good that you webbed the door then.
“Fuck.” Leaving the motel keys at the front, you skedaddled your way back into the streets, looking for either a bodega or a shoe store. In order to keep yourself somewhat sane, you start softly humming music you recall Miles shared with you.
After some time of walking around aimlessly (you avoided asking others for directions, gods know gothamites unwritten rule is to mind your fucking business), you found a thrift store.
Guess what you realized while browsing for shoes. If you buy and fight crime with shoes, and (as of right now) are your only pair, you will get found out. So crocs it is!
Black ones, because white gets dirty too damn easily.
Finding your size and other clothing necessities, face-mask, a backpack and a portable sewing kit, you were good to go and all for a cheap price! God you love thrift stores. You used to go to as many and as often as you could with Peter. Ya had a bad spending habit and Peter certainly never discouraged you. He was your terrible financial buddy.
Not now! You can’t reminisce right now, not until you found a way home. Asking the cashier for directions while also subtly declining their phone number (your excuse is that your phone got stolen) you made it to a corner store. Hurray!
Making sure to stock up on snacks, since- let’s be real, this will be your food source for a while, (no income, remember, silly) you stand in line to pay before your spider sense goes off.
Behind you. There’s a man, hoodie on, looking down, covering their face, hands buried inside their pockets. You’re betting it’s either a gun or a knife.
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot.” Oh, it’s a gun. How original.
The cashier seemed to clock in to what is occurring and subtly reaches under his counter. Not subtle enough because the man behind you yelled, pulling out his gun and pointing at the back of your head.
What the fuck spider luck.
You quickly assess your surroundings, making note that there is only one exit, two normal people not including you but including the gunman, and the room feels tight and too small to do anything.
Conclusion? You’re fucked.
“I said don’t move, hands up! Give me the money, all of it!” From the corner of your eyes you can see just how fidgety this man was. Probably trigger happy if you do something stupid.
“He-hey man, I don’t got much in here.” The cashier had his hands in the air, trembling and freaking out.
“I don’t care, give me the money! Yours too, bitch. Now!”
How rude. “Alright, I’m going to get my wallet. Don’t shoot.” You made slow movements of reaching into your pocket for the wallet.
“Hurry up! Both of you!” The thug yelled impatiently. You could practically feel how sweaty and anxious this guy is.
You watched the employee open up the cashier and take the money out. The assailant motioned for you to place your wallet on the counter, which you do and step to the side, getting out of his way. Just as he goes to grab the money you quickly grab the wrist with the gun and twist it, making sure he dropped it before smashing his head onto said counter, money flying everywhere.
Both you and the cashier watched the assailant fall to the ground, nose bleeding and out cold. “Um,” The cashier looked at you, spooked. “I panicked.”
Hey look at that, no shots fired baby! Ya still got it! You are a pro-fess-io-nal~!
“Hey man, no-um no sweat. You saved me.” He replies with a tremble in his voice.
“Cool, cool, I also didn’t want to get shot. How much for my stuff?” You asked, picking up the money on the floor, handing it back while placing your snacks on the counter..
“What stuff? I see nothing. Just go. I already called the cops.” Oh, so he wasn’t reaching for a gun (corner stores usually have one under the counters) but a buzzer or something? Nice, cool, great.
“Thanks buddy!” Hey man, free food is a blessing. Picking up your wallet and bag of snacks, you step over the knocked out guy, (pick pocketing any cash he had on him,) picking up the gun with your sweater sleeve and placing it at the counter. “Here, for the cops.”
“Thanks so much, again for everything. Hey, can I get a name? For the next time you come and…buy stuff.” He shot his shot.
“I appreciate it man, but I don’t give out my name like that. You know?”
And he missed.
“Ye-yeah…” He looked like a kicked puppy.
Just as you stepped out you heard the sound of a motorcycle nearby and your senses went off again.
“Stop right there, not another step.” A third party voice joins the fray.
What the fuck, spider luck?!
Instantly you recognize the vigilante in front of you but regardless you are not taking any chances today.
Taking a step back inside the store, making sure to close the door on the guy. “Um, hey not to alarm you or anything but there is a guy with a mask standing outside.” Bringing your hands up (again) you back away from the entrance, snack bag swinging around with your movements.
The employee nods pulled out the pistol from the counter (what the fuck, why would you grab that with your fingers my dude?) and aimed.
Well at least he doesn’t hold grudges for being rejected.
The door swung open and there stood a masked vigilante, but a familiar bat symbol on his chest caught the employee’s attention.
“Oh thank god it’s not another one.” Putting the pistol again he sighed in relief.
“Ah!” The yellow vigilante turned his focus onto you, (who backed up so much you tripped over the k.o.ed dude, fucking embarrassing) hands still in the air and snacks littering the floor.
Some professional you are. Fuck you spider luck.
“I didn’t steal anything, I swear.” God, you're embarrassed and stressed.
The vigilante ponders for a few seconds, taking in the scenario, glancing at the employee who nods and turns his attention back. “Sorry about that. Here.” He extends a hand out towards you and to not be suspicious you hesitantly take it, your body tenses on instinct, pulling away immediately.
“Thank you.” you mumbled silently cringing at your embarrassment over spilled snacks.
“What happened?” He still faced you but you knew that question was for the other party member. And even if it was for you, you’re silent.
“That dude tried to rob us and they knocked him out. Oh,” The cashier looked at his hands. “This is his.” And placed the pistol on the counter.
This looks like the perfect time to poof away so you do. Right after you pick up your snacks. Signal sees this and silently aids you. “You both aren’t hurt, right? Need medical assistance?”
No you fucking don’t.
Holding out the bag as Signal placed the last snack in you as you shook your head. “I’m a-okay. Thank you though.” And you walk out for the second time. You could still feel his eyes on you until the door closes.
And guess who shows up.
The men in blue.
“Hold it right there.” Bro, you just want to be left alone, is that so much to ask? This time instead of bringing your hands up (for a third time), you instead clutch your bag to your chest, mask down and point inside, making sure your voice matches your facial expression.
“In there, he stopped him there.” meek, timid, nervous.
It seems to have worked as the pair of policemen entered the store and you didn’t think twice and booked it (in a non suspicious manner- if you run, they might chase). Passing by a yellow motorcycle you take a glance back and see the vigilante stepping outside the store, looking somewhat bothered in the presence of the authorities.
Sucks to suck, bud, you know that feeling very well, not your problem anymore.
As if feeling your eyes on him he turns his face towards you, your eyes meeting a mask. Oh fuck! You felt your hair stand up. Holding his gaze for a few seconds before turning away (any other abrupt movement would definitely make you look suspicious) you continue on your way.
Forcing yourself to not tense up and fight the urge to shiver at his cold gaze you round the corner and you feel somewhat safer again. But it’s a false sense of security, because you know you’re slowly losing your mind.
Hopefully you won’t run into him or any of the other bats.
-
Duke Thomas was patrolling his territory, the Narrows, when he got a notification.
“Signal, there’s a robbing occurring five blocks from your location. The corner store Convenience. Know it?” Oracle’s voice spoke through the comms.
“I know my way. I’m checking it out now.”
“Checking the cameras- there are only three people inside. The assailant, a civilian, and an employee.”
“Got it-”
“Oh wait. Huh, well look at that.” Disbelief could be heard through the comms.
“What is it?” Did things escalate too fast?
“The civi knocked the guy out. Basically one move.” Color Oracle impressed.
“I’m here, anything else I should know about?”
“I’m scanning what I can see of their face, but I’m coming up blank. I’ll let you know if anything.”
Duke didn’t reply, instead as he pulled up he saw someone coming out of the store. “Stop right there, not another step.”
He watched the figure (gender unidentifiable with the oversized hoodie) freeze before making eye contact with him-er his visor. Despite the hood being down, he could not see their face completely with their mask, only their eyes and hair. Just a normal civilian, who apparently knocked out a guy with a gun.
Then silence and no movement.
Until the civilian backed away, closing the store door.
Stunned for a moment, Duke could hear Oracles snort through the comms. “Think they’re scared?”
“From what, me? They took down a guy with a guy and I scared them?”
“Careful, gun pointed straight at you inside.” warned Oracle.
He moves towards the front door, pushing it open to see the civilian from earlier backing away still, hands up before turning his attention to the employee with a gun. “Oh thank god it’s not another one.”
“Ah!” A yelp caught his attention and it seems the civi tripped on the knocked out guy he just noticed. They immediately spoke, catching his eyes,“I didn’t steal anything, I swear.”
Duke holds in a snort before glancing at the employee who nods in confirmation before he focuses on the fallen person. He calmly walks towards them, taking note of their discomfort and reaches his hand out. “Sorry about that. Here.”
Despite his covered eyes somewhat obscuring his vision, he couldn’t will them away from this stranger’s visible face.
Duke watched their hesitation but placed their hands in his, and he swore he felt a spark that sent shivers down his spine. How curious. He pulled them up, noting just how light they felt in his hold.
“Thank you.” Their voice was soft, but audible.
They quickly pulled their hand away, the warmth gone. His hand held its place for a couple of seconds before he let it fall to his side. “What happened?” He still faced the civilian, both unmoving. He already knew what occurred, Oracle told him everything, but he wanted to hear them talk more.
Only the employee replied. He took note of their lack of eye contact.
“That dude tried to rob us and they knocked him out. Oh,” Duke glanced as the cashier placed the gun on the counter. He’ll leave that for the cops to pick up if they don’t get here before he leaves. “This is his.”
His attention is once again stolen as the civilian in front of him kneels to pick up their half empty bag. Standing above them, he notes the tips of their ears are red, how cute.
“You good there, romeo? You kinda have a staring problem.” Oracle’s voice snapped him out of his trance.
Duke cleared his mind (he hoped he didn’t look weird or creepy, yikes) before leaning down as well and helped pick up the tossed chip bags.
Though he did take his time, just to squeeze a bit more time with this civilian that he has yet to identify. “You both aren’t hurt, right? Need medical assistance?” He mostly directed this question to them than the cashier behind him. He wonders if Oracle figured out this civilian's name.
Placing the last snack inside the plastic bag he watches them straighten up before shaking their head. “I’m a-okay. Thank you though.” His eyes couldn’t seem to leave their figure as he watched them walk out the door.
“Cops outside, Signal.” Oracle once again breaks his attention.
“Got it.” Duke turns his attention to the guy on the floor, sitting him up as two officers enter the store. One takes the guy off his hands while the other questions the employee, taking the gun.
A slight restless feeling took over him and he made his way outside, the one carrying the passed out guy following. Duke quickly takes notice of eyes watching him and he turns to see the complete unmasked civilian from earlier.
This time, he really felt like he had a staring problem. He drinks up their appearance like water. Their nose, lips, face shape, everything. He didn’t know how to explain it, but he really couldn’t look away this time. Everything around him suddenly felt silent. He felt his body shiver.
Such a pretty face, this civilian caught his breath regardless. He’s not one to lose himself by a pretty face but it seems this one was an exception. He felt mesmerized, entranced, and tongue-tied. Something about this person had a strong lock on him, and he couldn’t help but feel somewhat excited then put off. It felt like a very tight leash, and he doesn’t mind one bit.
Three seconds. Ever since he caught their gaze, they made eye-contact (despite him wearing a mask) before she looked away and left, turning the corner. (Their features look pretty feminine so he’s going with her).
“Anything Oracle?” He mumbled, still a bit lost.
“No dice. How strange…”
Bummer. He mounts his ride and drives off to finish the rest of his patrol. He’s tempted to drive in the direction the civilian went to, but he wills himself to not do that. God it’s like he’s down bad. Really bad.
Hopefully he gets to see you soon, it seems you’re staying in the Narrows which increases his chances to see you. As much as he curses himself internally, he hopes he can save you next time something dangerous happens again.
Something formed in the pit of his stomach, and he doesn’t know if it’s desire or obsession.
Regardless, he embraces this feeling whole heartedly.
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I struggled really hard, like REALLY hard. Duke is new to me (i only learned of him because of the webtoon) Now I'm reading issues he has been in and I don't know his character well but there is a SEVERE lack of Duke fics and I made it everyone's problem. So now he's down bad.
Updates are random and spars, no update schedule and don't plan to make one. This is my hobby not my obligation.
#batfamily x reader#batfam x reader#dc x reader#series;wb#series; web bound#Dick Grayson x reader#tim drake x reader#jason todd x reader#damian wayne x reader#barbara gordon x reader#cassandra cain x reader#stephanie brown x reader#duke thomas x reader#nightwing x reader#red hood x reader#red robin x reader#robin x reader#spoiler x reader#orphan x reader#oracle x reader#jon kent x reader#jonathan kent x reader
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This One's For You
Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || Ben & daughter!OC (Lila)
Summary: Late one night, finding no other recourse, Ben sings to his infant daughter to help her sleep.
AN: Thanks to this request, this one’s set between Until Morning and Green in the BMD-verse.
Word Count: 1.2K
Song Inspo: "Hey There Delilah" by Plain White T's
Tags/Warnings: Grumpy Ben, established relationship, potential fluff overload.~
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
“Your daughter’s awake,” Ben grumbled into his pillow.
He didn’t need to have sensitive hearing to pick up on the infant’s whining in her crib.
“She’s only my daughter when she has a rough night.” You sighed and turned away from him on your side of the bed. You clutched at your pillow. “It’s your turn, pal.”
His eyes cracked open. He gave you a look of annoyance behind your back.
“I have to get up in three hours for work,” he said.
You didn’t seem to care. You were so tired, he already heard your deeper breaths in sleep. In fairness, you essentially hadn’t slept for three days now. Your daughter was a demanding little thing, with some powerful goddamn lungs.
When another insistent whine and a hiccupping cry reached his ears, Ben released a sound of frustration. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until the house was silent again, so after another beat, he finally peeled back the covers. Sliding out of bed, he padded out on bare feet down the hall to the nursery, wearing his usual pair of sweatpants.
He peered over the side of the crib and found Lila blinking up at him. Her tears clung to her lashes as she wriggled around in upset.
“What’s the matter now?” he asked, as if the baby could answer him.
He reached in with careful hands and picked her up, resting her on his chest. She sniffed and predictably latched onto his hair as she cried.
He checked her in various ways, but she didn’t smell like a full diaper (upon which, he would've handed her over to you). She seemed fine, which meant she was being finicky just for the hell of it.
“You’re okay, sweetheart. Come on,” he said as he paced the room with her. “Quiet the fuck down already.”
Still, she wouldn’t stop crying. The whimpers were pitiful, but at least they weren’t ear-splitting wails this time. He just really needed her to stop so he could sleep, expeditiously.
After several minutes with no improvement, however, Ben sighed and dropped down into the rocking chair. He was coming to the end of his tether.
“All right, what’s it gonna take for you to relax?” he muttered. At this point, he wasn’t above bribery. Candy? Money? A new fucking car? Hell, he’d get her a fleet of Ferraris if it’d make her pipe down.
He held Lila in the crook of his arm and tried rocking back and forth in the chair. When that didn’t work, he tried humming a tune—something he’d heard on the radio that now wouldn’t get out of his damn head. The only reason he remembered it was because of his daughter’s name.
“Oh, it’s what you do to me, oh, it’s what you do to me,” he sang softly, deep and baritone, and a little coarse from sleep. (And possibly a little off-key.)
Lila seemed to ease up a little in response to his voice, blinking up at him with those pretty green eyes. Maybe that was the solution.
He cleared his throat in slight embarrassment. He looked in the doorway to make sure he was alone before he kept going with this.
Okay, what’re the words to the goddamn song…
“H-Hey there, Delilah, what’s it like in New York City?” he started, a bit unsure. The baby blinked up at him, holding a little fist in her mouth. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks while she whimpered, but she looked like she was listening, at least.
“I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty,” Ben continued. He couldn’t help softening a bit, looking down on her. He swept a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
“Yes, you do. Time Square can’t shine as bright as you…I swear it’s true.”
Tomorrow he was scheduled for another mission out of New York, with Butcher and the rest of the team. Ben didn’t know how long he’d be gone.
“Hey there, Delilah, don't you worry about the distance,” he sang, “I'm right there if you get lonely. Give this song another listen…”
He wouldn’t admit it, but it was hard to leave you and Lila. She was still so small, and he didn’t like the thought of you two being alone, even if Frank was watching out for you.
But Ben had a job to do.
“Close your eyes,” he almost whispered. “Listen to my voice, it’s my disguise. I’m by your side…”
Lila had begun to settle down. He dried her tears as he continued to rock her, continued to hum the melody of the chorus. He couldn’t remember most of the song after that, but there were a few more lines he did have rolling around in his head.
“Hey there, Delilah, here’s to you,” he sang quietly. “This one’s for you…”
Just then, Ben thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up and found you there, leaning in the doorway. You were holding up your cell phone.
His brows knitted together in a glare.
“What the fuck’re you doing?” he said, sharp and incredulous.
“Shhh,” you reminded him, pointing at the baby. He saw your smirk below the frame of the phone.
Ben looked down and found that Lila was finally asleep. Gritting his teeth, he got up slowly. You were filming him all the while, even with your hair wild in bedhead and your pajama top hanging off your shoulder. Apparently, embarrassing him was more important than sleep.
Ben gently set her back down in the crib. Once he made sure she was safe and settled in sleep, he turned and saw that you were still filming him. He hoped you captured the deathly look of warning on his face.
You bit your lip. Without either of you saying anything, you darted off down the hall. Ben stalked after you.
“Woman, you better get the fuck back here!” he hissed in a coarse whisper. You struggled to contain your laughter.
“You’ll have to catch me first, old man,” you teased.
He chased you around the house—almost knocking over a lamp in the process—until he got ahold of you, and more importantly your phone. He grabbed it out of your hand and held you flush against him with an ironclad arm around your waist.
Ben looked down at you both in satisfaction, and a warning not to try anything else. You laughed and took his bearded face in your hands. You pulled him down to you for a placating kiss.
"You do have a nice voice," you whispered near his lips.
"Shut it. You're on thin fucking ice with me," he groused, with a shake of his head when it only reignited your inane giggling.
His lips reluctantly tugging at a smile, he silenced you with a deeper kiss.
The joke was on him though. While you were running around, you already managed to drop that video into the group chat with Hughie, Annie, and all the rest of your friends at Supe Affairs.
Come the morning, Ben was about to have a very interesting day at the office.
AN: 😂 Did you enjoy another dose of dad!Ben in the BMD-verse? 💚
Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:
Coming up next, Ben gets his revenge in Lesson Learned:
Summary: There’s only so much teasing Ben is willing to take. He has no choice but to punish you.
▶️ Keep Reading: Lesson Learned
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Break Me Down Masterlist
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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#This One's For You#dad!ben#Break Me Down#BMD-verse#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x female reader#daughter!OC#Ben and Lila#the boys#the boys AU#the boys season 3#the boys amazon#soldier boy fanfiction#jensen ackles characters#jensen ackles#soldier boy/ben#jensen ackles x reader#the boys fanfiction#the boys x reader#the boys x you#soldier boy fluff#zepskies writes
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Aren’t You Forgetting Something?
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
Feat. Character(s): Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben, Hughie Campbell, MM & Nan (Reader’s Grandmother)
Original Prompt: Requested by anon | I gotta tell you that not only I love your writing but I love your series writing, specifically. When something new drops I’m always happy to read it before going to bed because I somehow feel connected to the characters, like I know them! I love to keep up with them and I love Ben’s and Y/N relationship so much. I’m in the mood for some angst between them tho, maybe Ben forgetting her birthday and receiving a silence treatment? I don’t know, but I trust you.
Summary: Ben forgets one of the most important days in yours and his relationship — your one year anniversary
Word Count: 4.6k
Warnings: Cursing (40x), Forgetful!Ben, Ben making fun of Hughie for the umpteenth time, Implied violence, Lots of angst, Fluff, Vulnerable!Ben & Implied Smut at the end
Authors Note: Takes place in the Hughie’s Best Friend is Dating Soldier Boy Universe | I changed it from birthday to anniversary, so I hope that's okay my anon friend! | Takes place after After Everything | I had a lot of fun looking up 1950s fashion for this | There will not be a second part to this but I will still be adding to this universe | This came out a lot longer than I expected it to, but I had a lot of fun with this | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
⋆ Hughe's Best Friend is Dating Soldier Boy Masterlist ⋆
You never thought that this day would ever come, but it was finally here: yours and Ben's one year anniversary. It was a milestone that you never thought would come, as the relationship between the two of you wasn't always easy. It was rocky, and sometimes very, very messy. But despite all of the messiness, you loved him unconditionally, and he loved you just the same, but showed it in his own unique ways.
Ben wasn't the kind of person to verbally say, "I love you," as his love language tended to be that of a physical nature. He would do chores around the house that you hated to do — despite him having it too. He would bring things back from missions that reminded him of you — often those objects being covered in someone else's blood; and he would kiss and smack your ass every time you were in his path, no matter what either one of you was doing.
Although you love those physical actions, you hoped that maybe one day you would be able to hear him utter those three little words you had been yearning to hear — and maybe, just maybe, today was that day.
Since Ben was away on a secret mission that you weren’t apart of since you were sick at the beginning, you took this whole week that he was away in order to plan what you were going to do for him the day of. Initially, the two of you agreed that you really weren't going to do anything special to celebrate, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized how important this milestone truly was; not only for your relationship, but for the two of you individually.
Although it was only a year, your relationship with Ben was the longest you've ever been in. Not that you've had many previous relationships, but every single one you had previously never really lasted long (you were lucky if it lasted two months), as they either did not understand the whole vigilante justice objective of The Boys, Butcher somehow scared them off, or they were (funnily) threatened by Hughie.
But Ben was different in this way compared to your other relationships. He understood the vigilante justice, he understood your hatred for Vought, and he wasn't threatened by Hughie in the slightest (Hughie was actually threatened by him). Despite all of his flaws, he was perfect in his own way.
When it came to the Ben side of things, you were not his longest relationship by a long shot, but you were the first and only person to have genuine feelings for him. Those genuine feelings being something that no one had seen coming — not even you. But he was someone that gradually turned into becoming the person you had wanted to spend the rest of your life with, despite how strange that sounded to most people.
Your plan for the big day was simple, but felt like it would be special enough to really honor and celebrate the relationship. You had planned to make his favorite dinner: steak and mashed potatoes. For dessert, favorite pie: pecan. And dress in the style of a 1950s housewife, as that was a style he had never once seen you in before.
Even though you have made his favorite dinner and dessert hundreds of times before, dressing up as a housewife was something that was definitely beyond your comfort zone and expertise, so you went to the one person that knew could help you best: your Nan.
Despite the style of the housewife fashion basically being obsolete, it was a look that she adored, and dawned on even years after the style had become out of fashion. Her hair was always neat and never out of place, her lipstick always the deepest shade of red, and her dresses always the brightest of hues. You remembered seeing pictures of her back when she was your age and she was a knockout (Ben agreeing), so when you told her that you wanted to dress in the housewife style, she beamed and quickly went to her closest to pull out the nicest shade of red that perfectly matched your skin tone.
“Just don’t do anything sexual in this dress. I’ll never be able to get the stains out,” she told you with a wink. Her comment causing you to roll your eyes.
“You’re just as bad as Ben,” you told her.
Ben was eager to get back home to you, as this mission was taking a lot longer than he had anticipated. It was supposed to be a quick and easy assassination (something he had done alone hundreds of times before), but one thing after another kept going wrong, and he couldn’t help but blame “his team.” He felt himself getting more and more agitated by the second, and there was nothing he could do about it, especially because you weren’t here to help him take the edge off.
Even though rough sex with you right now would be the highlight of the mission, he wished that you were here to at least talk to him, because you were one of the only people he knew that he could have an actual conversation with that wouldn't end up with him being annoyed.
He paced back and forth, with shield in hand; the only sounds between him and the rest of the group were the occasional snicker and his heavy boots. “You’re making me nervous walking around like that,” MM said, behind his binoculars.
Ben rolled his eyes, stopping a few feet away from him. “Then what would you suggest I’d be doing right now? We’re just sitting around doing nothing.”
“Is there somewhere else you need to be? Cause we’re here to do a job,” MM replied, removing the binoculars from his eyes and turning in Ben’s direction. “And we’re going to be here as long as it takes to do this job.”
“I’d rather be in Y/N’s pussy or ass right now, but because you guys are all somehow getting worse at your jobs, I can’t fucking do that right now,” Ben said, grinning an annoyed grin.
His comment caused mixed reactions from the group; but mainly disgusted looks from MM and Hughie. Butcher and Frenchie on the other hand, looked indifferent about his comment. “I really wish you’d stop mentioning how much you like fucking my best friend. It’s getting…weird,” Hughie commented.
“Fucking pussy,” Ben mumbled to himself.
With the pie cooling on the counter, and with dinner almost ready, you felt your heart beating faster than normal. Was it normal to get this nervous about anniversaries? To you, it felt like another day with Ben, but that’s not the way your heart and stomach was making you feel.
As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you almost didn’t recognize yourself as you dawned red lipstick, and a matching shirtwaist dress you had borrowed from your Nan. But you couldn’t help but wonder what his reaction was going to be as this was something he’d never seen you in before. Yes, he’d seen you dress up a handful of times, but it was in a modern style of dress — sweetheart and plunging necklines with a slit riding up the thigh; not this style which was something he hadn’t seen in decades.
You smiled though, thrilled with your appearance despite the nerves you were feeling. Your hair perfectly styled similar to that of Rosie the Riveter and deep red lipstick that was in a similar shade to your dress. The last thing to complete the look were pearls — your mothers specifically.
Finally covered in a thin layer of blood, sweat, and ash, the mission was finally over, and a huge sigh of relief washed over Ben. In just a few short hours, he would finally be home to his girl. “Fucking finally,” he said, mainly to himself, as he placed his gun back into his holster.
He looked over to his left, and Hughie was standing there with ripped clothes, he too covered in a thin layer of sweat, blood, and ash, holding a gun with his usual slightly constipated look on his face.
As Ben was about to walk away, as he didn’t really want to wait up for Hughie, he sighed, knowing that you’d want him to ask how he was doing in this moment, although he couldn’t give two fucks. “Hey,” he said, and Hughie looked over at him. “You good?” He asked.
The look on Hughie’s face changed; it was no longer the look of constipation, but slight annoyance. “Am I good?” He asked, his hands falling to his sides; the gun slightly hitting him in the leg. “What part of — yeah. I’m fine. Just, just peachy.” His tone radiating sarcasm.
“Awesome,” Ben grinned, giving him a thumbs up as he started walking away; being careful not to trip over any debris. “You comin’ or what?” He called out, as soon as he left the room. “I ain’t gonna be late because of you.”
Hughie’s face changed again to that of a puzzled one. “Late for what?” He asked, but quickly shook his head. “Actually, don’t fucking answer that because you’ll probably say something disgusting.” A loud, booming laugh from Ben could be heard down the hall in response.
As you sat on the couch watching tv, your nerves were starting to get the best of you again, and you were beginning to second guess your decision in wearing this outfit. You thought that it would be a special surprise for him to see you dressed like this, since it was something you usually didn't wear, but at the same time, maybe he wouldn't even notice or care. You weren't entirely sure if it was because he was a guy, or because he's been around such a long time, that he'd seen and done everything, and there was nothing that remotely fazed him at this point in his life.
Staring at the door, you got startled suddenly from the sound of your phone ringing. There was a small part of you that hoped it was Ben, but it was your Nan. Taking a deep breath to collect yourself, you answered the phone. "Hi Nan, how are you?"
"Hi Sweetheart. Has Ben seen you yet? How'd he like the pie?" She asked, her voice sweet.
"Ben's not home yet, but he should be home soon," you told her.
"Okay dear. Well, can you tell him hi and give him a big kiss for me? I always thought he was so handsome back in the day. He still very much is. Aged like a fine wine," she chuckled to herself. "But don't tell your grandfather," she chuckled again.
"Yes, I'll tell him hi and kiss him for you," you said, quietly laughing to yourself. "You know he's always happy to hear from you," which was the truth. He was always happy to humor her and reminisce about the good old days, even if he had heard some of her stories numerous times before.
As you heard the door unlock, you smiled widely. "Nan, I have to go. Ben just walked in," you said.
"Okay Sweetheart. Happy Anniversary!" She said happily. "Don't do anything I wouldn't," she chuckled again, before the two of you hung up the phone. There's not a lot of things Ben wouldn’t do, you thought.
"Fuck it's good to be home," Ben said, walking into the house and placing his shield next to the door. "I swear, your friends are getting worse at their jobs somehow, cause I probably would have been home fucking sooner if — Fuck, look at you." He finally looked up now, and you were standing there in an outfit that he had never once seen on you. It was something that he hadn't seen in decades in fact; and the biggest grin appeared on his face.
You didn’t move a muscle toward him, but he heard your heart beating like a jackrabbit. The sounds of his heavy boots walked across the floor toward you. “Do you like?” You asked, and you gave him a small spin; the dress slightly flowing as you did so. “Thought I’d do something special. Different.” You smiled, practically beaming with excitement. He wondered what the occasion was.
“Haven’t seen one of these in fucking decades,” he said, slightly reminiscing with a grin. He looked you over, eyeing you up and down, one of his fingers hooking into the belt loop of the dress. “What’s the occasion?” Your once beaming smile slowly faded into a frown. “What?”
“You seriously don’t know?” You asked, your voice slightly irritated sounding. He hadn’t had the foggiest idea what made today so special, other than you dressing differently than you normally did.
He looked at your face, trying to obtain some kind of hint, but he had no clue. But your heart was racing faster now. You were pissed — and he didn’t fucking understand why. “No, I really fucking don’t,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me? I’m not a fucking mind reader Princess.”
You let out a huge huff, rolling your eyes at him. As much as he thought you were cute when you were pissed, he didn't like it when you pissed at him. "Un-fucking-believable," you said, pulling away from him.
"What?" He asked, still in utter disbelief.
"Your favorite fucking dinner is on the fucking table along with your favorite fucking pie. I'm going to bed," you said, your voice angry as you stormed off into the bedroom, slamming the door. Two seconds later, the door opened again. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight," you told him, and slammed the door again, promptly locking it behind you.
You knew the lock wouldn't be able to keep Ben out, as he'd be able to bust open the door with barely any effort; but you knew he wouldn't remotely try to come into the room, as he knew not to come in when you locked it — thankfully, he was starting to understand boundaries.
You couldn’t help but be angry, upset, and frustrated. But at the same time, you weren’t remotely surprised that he didn’t remember. It was something that neither one of you initially wanted to make a big deal about, but between this being your longest relationship, and the last person he celebrated an anniversary with gave him up to the Russians, you figured why not make this day special after all?
It took everything you could to hold back the tears as you started to remove your makeup; feeling like it was an utter waste of time. It didn't take you that long to do this, but you went through some effort looking up tutorials online to try and be as 1950s authentic as possible, even asking your Nan for tips on how she used to do her own.
The mascara started running down your face, as you tried your best to scrub it off. But it was barely getting removed, which only frustrated you more. You pounded the dresser, and let out a muffled sounding scream.
A small knock came at the door a few seconds later. "Sweetheart, you okay?" Ben asked, and you scoffed.
"Fuck you," was the only response you could muster up in the moment.
"Ouch," you heard him mumble. "Can we...talk?" His voice hesitant.
"No. Just leave me alone Ben," you said, and you could hear sadness in your voice.
You heard him let out a frustrated sigh. "Alright," and the sound of his heavy boots walked away from the door. He sounded frustrated too.
As Ben ate his dinner that you had made for him (his favorite no less), he tried to figure out why you were so unbelievably pissed at him to the point that you refused to talk to him. Yes, he’d seen you pissed numerous times (either at him or about something else), but you’d never been so pissed to the point that you’d completely shut him out — and that terrified him.
Like usual, he started going down the list of things that he knew pissed you off: not taking his boots off in the house, tracking mud into the kitchen, getting blood on the furniture, doing coke on the kitchen table, crushing Bennie’s on the marble bathroom counter. Maybe it was the boot thing? Yeah, it had to be, he thought.
As you lied in bed staring up at the ceiling, you sighed heavily, wanting more than anything to unlock the door and invite Ben to come in and cuddle with you. It had been almost a week since you’d last saw him, and you just wanted to feel his skin against yours. But you didn’t want to give in — you earned the right to be pissed, even if it wasn’t particularly fair to be, since you agreed not to make it a big deal. Then again, he did forget your anniversary.
You heard a knock at the door again, and you sighed an annoyed sigh. “Go away,” you said.
“I think I know why you’re pissed at me,” Ben said. Your eyes lit up, and you sat up straight in bed, eager for him to say Happy Anniversary. A smile formed on lips, waiting. “I forgot to take my boots off when I came into the house,” and then your smile faded.
“Fucking Christ,” you mumbled, falling into the bed again to stare up at the ceiling.
“Is that a no?” Ben questioned.
“That’s a no,” you responded, annoyed.
“Son of a Fuck,” you heard him mumble, as he walked away from the door again.
As Ben sat on the couch flipping through channels, he continued to think about what you could possibly be this pissed about if it wasn’t the boot thing. Women are so fucking complicated, he thought. Weren’t this fucking complicated back in my day.
He stared at the couch, sighing in annoyance as he didn’t want to be sleeping here tonight. He wanted to sleep in bed with you; something he had been looking forward to the entire week he had been away from you. He looked forward to holding you close, and making you feel safe, tracing patterns on your bare back like you did to him. He honestly didn’t know what he was going to do if he didn’t figure out why you were mad; because he loathed when you were mad at him. It was a time that made him feel the most unease and insecure, and he was rarely insecure and uneasy.
Ben hadn’t known you for long, but you had managed to somehow worm your way quickly into his heart. You were someone he felt a strange connection to the moment he laid his eyes on you; and you were the one person that made him feel safe and loved. You were the only one that he felt he could be his true self around.
He thought of ways in which maybe you could forgive him, and started working on those; one of them being washing the dishes from his dinner even though he preferred you to do it. But he hoped that maybe this small gesture would help in his favor. Maybe I can go down on you? He thought. You always forgive me after that. Then again, I don’t let you come until you do…
As he made his way back into the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks, as he noticed something on the calendar that for some reason, he hadn’t noticed previously. Today’s date was circled with a single sentence written in your handwriting: 1 Year Anniversary.
“Fuck,” he said to himself. “I forgot our fucking anniversary.”
Ben stared at the circled date on the calendar, mentally cursing himself because he had forgotten it by accident. It was a day that he meant to remember, and even repeated over and over again while they were heading to the mission. But because it had taken so long to complete, it left his mind, because it had become entirely mission focused.
You’re never going to fucking forgive me, he thought. This was how he was going to lose you. Panic started to set in for him, realizing that he might have to live the rest of his miserable existence without you; and that was something he couldn’t bear the thought of. Ben didn’t need a lot of things, but he knew that he needed you.
Tossing and turning, you were having a hard time trying to fall asleep. You wanted Ben to be lying next to you right now, caressing your hair, and feeling his rapid heartbeat. It was simple moments like those that you enjoyed most with him; because sometimes you would forget all the awful and horrible things both of you had done in order to meet and to get to this point. If Grace hadn’t recruited you, you would have never met the love of your life.
The love of your life: now that was a sentence you never thought you’d ever equate to Soldier Boy. He was someone you grew up having a crush on since you and your father had watched his movies on repeat to the point you had to buy another VHS tape because you’d worn it out. He was someone you wished you could have met because he was always your favorite (partially because he was also your dad’s favorite).
But he was a Supe, and you had told yourself that you’d never end up with one after what had happened to your uncle, but here you were, dreaming of spending the rest of your life with one.
You sighed heavily, and ended up on your back again. A knock came at the door again, and you turned to face it. “I forgot our anniversary, and I’m sorry,” Ben said, and you cocked a brow. His words seemed genuine, and hurt at the same time. “I tried to remember; I really did but…the mission took full focus.” You heard him sigh, and you knew how hard this was for him, as apologizing was something he wasn’t particularly good at, since Vought basically taught him to never apologize for anything. “I don’t want to lose you over this. I….fuck,” he mumbled. “Can you please open the door so I can look at you?”
He heard you getting up out of the bed, slightly sighing. He could hear your heartbeat, and it was music to his ears despite the rapidness of it. He heard you unlocking it, his nerves starting to show as he tapped the wall next to the door.
You opened it up gently and stared at him through the crack of it. Your eyes slightly puffy from crying. He felt his heart drop, hating that he was the one that had made you cry — he never wanted to be the one responsible for that. “Sweetheart,” he began. “I know I fucked up.”
“Did you actually remember, or did you look at the calendar?” You asked him, your voice barely audible even to him.
“I looked at the calendar,” he admitted. “But to be fair, I really did try and fucking remember. You can ask your friend. I was saying the date on repeat, and then the mission got in the way 'cause they weren’t doing their fucking jobs properly.”
“Hughie can back that up?” You asked, and he nodded. He hoped that you wouldn’t ask him, because he wasn’t sure if he would actually corroborate his story or just fuck him over.
“He fucking hates me, I know he wouldn’t back me up,” Ben added. “I make fun of him too much. But it’s hard not to, I mean look at him.”
“I’m not going to break up with you if that’s what you’re worried about,” you said, hopefully reassuring him. Because even though he gave off the attitude that he didn’t need anyone or anything, you knew you were the only person he needed. You were the one person Ben could rely on no matter what; and you couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen if something bad had happened to you, or if your relationship ever ended.
“I don’t like it when you hate me,” he whispered. “You’re the one person I couldn’t bear to have hate me.”
“I don’t hate you Ben,” you said, reassuring him again. “I could never hate you.”
“Even if I killed Hughie?” He asked, slight teasing in his voice. But you gave him the look, and his teasing smile quickly faded. “Right. He’s off limits.” His hands finally went up in the air, as if he was surrendering. “I’d never kill him, don’t worry. I don’t actually mean it.”
“I wanted to do something special for you, even though we agreed not to make it a big deal because I figured this was a milestone for the both of us. You’re the longest relationship I’ve ever had, and the last person you celebrated an anniversary with gave you to the Russians.”
“I gave her a fucking diamond necklace too,” he mumbled.
“Ben,” you began.
“Sorry, sorry. Look, I want to make it up to you,” he said. “Let me start by —”
“Going down on me?” You questioned, cocking a brow.
“Well…yeah…I mean, don’t you like when I go down on you?” He asked.
“Yeah of course, but I was kind of hoping for something else than the usual way,” you confessed.
“Like what? Me saying I love you or something?” He asked.
“Don’t say it just because you think that’s what I want to hear. I want you to say it because you actually mean it.” It was three little words you had longed to hear for a while. And even though he had said it, he said it in a way of a question, because he thought it was words that would make this situation all better; almost like putting a band-aid on a huge gash.
“You know how I feel about you. I thought it was obvious when I first saw you,” he said. “When I first saw you, I thought you were a fucking knockout. I mean, I pictured you sucking and bouncing on my cock so many times before you actually did.”
“If that was supposed to sound romantic, it failed,” you said; barely humoring him in the moment.
He sighed, slightly rolling his eyes. “What I’m trying to say is, I may not be perfect, but there are five things that I know. Numbers one to three, I love your boobs, ass, and pussy. Number four, you’re the only person I ever fucking need in my life, and five, I love you. And I’m not just fucking saying that. I really fucking do. And you know how fucking hard that is for me to say cause the last person I said I love you to was a fucking bitch.”
Ben looked at your face, trying to find any hint of what you may be thinking. But he didn’t have the foggiest idea. All you did was stare at him with those big eyes of yours, looking at him like a lost puppy. “You said it,” you whispered, almost in disbelief. “You actually fucking said it…Ben…”
That’s when you wrapped his arms around him, finally feeling your small embrace. A grin formed on his face as he wrapped his arms around you in response. It felt nice to say it to you and say it to someone that he knew actually appreciated him. He let you see another side of him, a side that he would never let anyone besides you see. “Can I go down on you now?” He asked, speaking into your hair. You let out a small laugh, and felt you nod into his chest.
Without a second going by, he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder, happily bringing you into the bedroom.
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#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#the boys#the boys one shot#the boys amazon#the boys imagine#ben x you#ben x reader#reader insert#female reader
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UMBRELLA! BEN ; a million timelines
summary ; you'll always end up with one certain face in every universe and timeline
warnings ; language
disclaimers ; ben isn't dead, umbrella! ben in fact bc I love that dork sm, viktor is already transitioned the whole way through, random word vomit
track ; not a lot, just forever, adrianne lenker
word count ; 1.1k
masterlist
It seemed in every timeline, you'd be semy straight back to Ben's side.
You were intertwined, sewn together, in fact.
In 2019, you were reunited with him after Sir Reginald Hargreeves' death. You hadn't seen each other since you were kids, it'd been years.
You didn't have any special powers like the Hargreeves' did, you were just their normal friend who lived next door above the laundromat. You came back to town for other reasons, but when you heard the news, you had to go see them.
Your eyes first landed on Viktor, his short hair completely different from his old, long, luscious locks. You immediately smiled, wrapping him in a solemn hug, congratulating him yet showing remorse and compassion over his dad's timely demise.
You went through the rest of the siblings, other than Five, as he'd gone missing all those years ago.
Then up came Ben.
You could feel the soft look on his face as he looked at you, finally being reunited after all this time. He was by far your favorite of the academy, holding a special spot in your heart.
It wasn't just that his cool tentacle shit that drew you to him. He was a total dork, and you adored it. He always found a way to make you smile, he noticed the smallest of things, he was so sweet and compassionate. He could light up a room like a flashlight in the dark.
He wrapped you in a hug, spinning you around in joy.
"Oh my God, Y/n!"
"Ben!"
Your smiles were unmatched, the other siblings watching with little smiles, nostalgia crashing against their mental shores. They loved you too, but they also loved seeing their two favorite people together again.
"God, why are you here?"
"Came back for some stuff, but also for you guys. Sorry about your dad"
"It was coming-"
"He was murdered"
"Luther!"
You softly chuckle, hiding your face in his shoulder, enjoying the sweet dopamine rush infecting your brain.
You were stuck to Ben by the hip, almost literally, as you landed on cold, wet concrete on April 28th, 1960. You share a panicked look, calling for any of the other Hargreeves' before eventually giving in to failure.
At least you still had each other.
You spent the next three years thinking the others were dead and that you were permanently trapped in the sixties. You worked in a bar, and he worked right beside you. You both didn't understand that without degrees, you were hired, but it was much better than nothing.
Then you were reunited with Klaus, then Five, then the others.
But of course, some weird fuck up in the space time continuum forced the world to attempt to kill itself, again.
And once again, you stood behind Ben as he unleashed the tentacles from his internal organs to protect you and his family.
Good God, what did you do to get wrapped up in all this?
That lead you all astray again back in 2019, thankfully, but some other superpowered people had taken the Umbrella Academy's place. The Sparrow Academy.
But once again, you were right by Ben's side.
You were at his side during the first Kugelblitz, travelling with Five and Klaus to meet Klaus' already deceased mom, and at the end-of-the-world wedding between Luther and Sloane.
You now sit at the bar at the Hotel Obisidian, sipping on mocktails as you watch Luther and Sloane break it down on the dance floor. A tune calls your name, screaming for you and Ben to jump out there.
Just Like Heaven by The Cure.
"Oh my God, we loved The Cure when we were little!" You giggle, only a buzz directing the slight slur in your words.
Ben smiles, "We did"
"Come on" You quickly set your glass down on the counter, looking over at Ben, who hasn't moved, giving you a raised eyebrow. "C'mon, Ben"
He looks over at Five who rolls his eyes, sipping on some sort of champagne. Ben gives into your pleads, setting his glass down to go with you.
You join Luther and Sloane, and Klaus and Viktor, on the dance floor, allowing the song to consume you inside out. You jump about, singing along to the lyrics as you hold each other's hands.
Colorful lights splash upon your faces, blinding you for milliseconds as they pass you by.
Five, now accompanied by Diego and Lila, watches you two from afar. He lightly smiles, enjoying the smiles on your faces as you await to be disintegrated into dust as the world crumbles around you.
"Even in every jump across the space time continuum and in every alternate timeline that will somehow find a way to end, they're always at the end together" Five observes, glancing over at the couple, elbows rested against the bar behind him.
Lila gives him a cringed look, not understanding a word of the gibberish he'd just spoken. Diego sighs and shakes his head, taking a bite out of a bologna sandwich he made for himself.
"It's cute," Five clarifies.
"Why don't you get out there?" Diego asks Five, "The world is about to end. Enjoy it, Ebenezer Scrooge McDuck"
Five chuckles. "Yeah, let me go enjoy the world fading into dust at every touch." He sets his glass down on the bar, deciding to go join the enthusiastic group of mentally dead Hargreeves' plus you.
You and Ben, even as the song switches, continue to dance together, creating a little circle with Klaus and Viktor so Sloane and Luther could have their little alone time. Eventually, the whole family is on the dance floor, enjoying their final hours on Earth.
After a while, you crash on the floor beneath the couch, mindlessly listening to Luther, Five, Diego, Klaus, and Viktor drunkenly sing along to Seal's Kiss From A Rose. Allison, Sloane, and Lila enjoy the show, singing along from the couch.
Five, noticing you two were slumped over, half dead, calls out to you. "Hey, lovebirds! Get up here!"
You and Ben immediately look down toward each other, your feet touching one another's, giggling like little kids as you realize what Five had called you. You crawl up to your hands and knees, then rise to your feet, joining the brothers up on the little karaoke stage.
"Now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the grey!"
It was true, in the end of each timeline, in each version of the world ending, you and Ben would end up side by side. Nothing, not even theories and paradoxes, and jumps across the fabric of the universe could separate you.
#lowkeyrobin#gn reader#gender neutral reader#they/them reader#ben hargreeves x reader#the umbrella academy x reader#umbrella academy x reader#the umbrella academy#ben hargreeves#justin min x reader
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#. GIVE ME WHAT I WANT
featuring 𝗺𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹 𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
fluff. he allowed himself to feel something he rarely did, peace and love because with you he got everything he wants.
happy birthday to my lover boy kaiser !! and happy christmas everyone !!
More awake inside of his dreams, the loneliness suits him better as he remains the only star in this cruel world. He doesn’t know what he wants but it’s not this, these sugar-coated words don't mean anything when he says them with his lips, tongue rolling with venom when he sees the faces of despair, experiencing the depth of a person’s soul when they have been put in their place. The moment people give up and are left hopeless, desperate for salvation, sacrificing their talent for more tedious lives — they are weak, more or less dead.
Impossible. He hates and loathes upon hearing that word coming out of someone's mouth, which makes him want to prove himself even more. Nothing is impossible. He was the weak person who gave up at any given chance, curling up into a ball to disappear and become invisible, embracing what is dearest to him in all the vast space, a planet that shines brighter than any star, emitting its own light basking in the gravity of football.
I don't know what I want but I know it's not this… A blue rose on his neck traced down with chain-like intertwined thorns that made their way to the crown on his left hand. To remind himself, to never again fall into that weak mindset, a dark and deep rabbit hole that won’t lead you to Wonderland but straight to execution, and it's ‘Off with your head!’. A symbol that shows the impossible, he is the symbol itself, not the tattoo.
Was that really you next to me? It’s cold even under the blanket, it's cold because it's winter … But it’s warm when you kiss him, it’s warm when you love him. Sometimes it makes him sad when he receives a gift because he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react. It’s his birthday and he doesn’t like it. Christmas lights, a decorated apartment, food on the table, and a woman full of love. Giving him what he wants, then again who is he supposed to please?
“Don't you like it, my love? I-I can always return it if you don't…” Kaiser tried to play it off, masking his emotions behind his usual arrogance. But with you, he was different—less rude, less cold. His eyes lingered on the gift he had just unwrapped: golden rings. Promise rings, you had said with a soft smile, assuring him that nothing could ever tear you apart. Yet, your expression betrayed you—your face was full of sadness and regret. It hurt him more than he cared to admit, more than anything else ever could.
He watched as you looked down, fidgeting with your hands, retreating into yourself. You had given him so much more than he deserved. You gave him what he needed the most: a dream to hold on to.
Then, you felt it—his colder, larger hands settling gently atop yours. For someone usually so brash, the touch was rather gentle and tender. He turned your hand palm up, brushing his thumb over your knuckles before sliding the ring onto your ring finger. An arrogant young man with a superiority complex, Kaiser had always been a fortress of pride and self-importance. But beneath it all, he was just a boy yearning to be loved. “I never said anything like that, Engel,” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. "I’m just… not good at this stuff, okay? Birthdays and gifts, they’re not my thing. Never have been."
He tilted his head, studying your face. His usual smirk returned, but it was softer now, almost boyish. Kaiser knows you are doing this with pure intentions, he knows he has ben truly blessed not on this day, but the day he met you. And even if he hides it, you can see the little boy's eyes waiting to hear those three words.
“I love you,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, your lips met his, the warmth of your touch seemed to catch him off guard, and he instinctively stepped back. You both paused, glancing up—mistletoe. A sweet kiss for the birthday boy. A loving kiss for the gift you’d received from the universe. His lips were softer than you expected, and he tasted faintly of your lipstick, a reminder of just how sweet your kisses were. He loves you too. You are everything he could ask for: pretty, smart, loving, and caring. You are his.
As he kissed you back, his hands found your waist, pulling you closer. The motion brought him off balance as he hit the edge of the bed, pulling you down with him. You landed on top of him, both breathless, laughter spilling into the space between your lips.
“Time to unwrap your other present~” you teased as you caressed his face, and he felt the golden ring pressing to his cheek.
On days like this, angels are said to come alive. But you were born one—his angel, his most precious treasure. For someone who believed the world to be cruel, who found pleasure in proving everyone else wrong, you were the exception to all his rules. You made him want to be better, not for the world, but for you. Who am I supposed to please? He asked, more to himself than to you, repeating the question that haunted him. His answer was clear now. It wasn’t about the world, the people who doubted him, or even his old self. It was you. It had always been you.
©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.
#✧* ꜝ on hiatus#✧* ꜝ blue lock#✧* ꜝ michael kaiser#this is being posted when im on hiatus but i just couldn't not post something for kaiser because he deserves all the love in this world#i wish i could kiss him fr and show him that he can be loved <3 hbd to one of my comfort charcaters !!#and as someone who relates to him please love and believe in yourself#despite everything that's going on or what happened — its going to be okay / you are going to be okay#just believe in the impossible because there is nothing impossible / I love yall <333#blue lock#x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock x you#michael kaiser#michael kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader fluff#blue lock fluff#michael kaiser x you#kaiser x you#kaiser michael#kaiser blue lock#bllk fluff#kaiser fluff#blue lock michael kaiser
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So I've seen a some discussion of people both criticizing and defending the DATV companions for being nice to each other. And I think the arguments from both sides are being a little bit misconstrued, which is honestly understandable. I think that often when something bothers us in fiction, it's hard to put into words exactly what it is. So as we try our best to express ourselves, it may not end up getting to the point of what the issue actually is (this is also why it can be tough for writers to properly address criticism - the readers providing the criticism might not be accurately diagnosing the root of the problem, so their attempts to fix it are shallow and don't actually address the issue).
Now I obviously don't speak for everyone, but I do think that a good amount of the people saying they want the DATV crew to be meaner don't actually mean they literally just want people to be rude and insulting each other for no reason. I think it boils down to three things that the new crew was missing:
Inability to really feel how the companion's backstories form their unique worldview
Lack of conflict between companions
Limited relationship dynamics between Rook and the companions
Inability to feel how companion's backstories form their worldview
In previous Dragon Age games, the characters frequently discussed and argued topics of philosophy, faith, politics, and beliefs. They came from all different backgrounds. You had Morrigan, a hedge mage raised to believe in self-preservation, teaming up with an Andrastian circle mage and former templar. Their beliefs and worldviews are, at their core, at odds with each other. The game doesn't necessarily try to make you believe one way or another, it simply drops you into the world and allows you to interact with these character, see their interactions with each other, and draw your own conclusions. In Dragon Age Inquistion, you have Cole, a spirit of compassion, teaming up with Vivienne, who believes the circle teachings that spirits are demons and want to possess people, and Sera, who represents the perspective of the common people that are afraid of all things magical or fade-related. You have Solas, a staunch individualist who believes in freedom for all, Cassandra, a faithful Andrastian who follows her own inner compass even when at odds with the institution of the Chantry, and Iron Bull, a Ben-Hassrath agent who believes in the Qun not because he's a philosopher and has decided that's what works best, but because that's how he was raised and so far, the Qun has worked for him. So in previous Dragon Age titles, you have people whose worldviews and beliefs are fundamentally at odds with each other, and whose actions and dialogues are a direct result of those beliefs. Veilguard really downplayed the importance of religion in Thedas, which isn't necessarily a problem in and of itself. In DA2, the only companion with strong religious beliefs is Sebastian. However, you had Anders who believed strongly in mage liberation, Fenris, who believed strongly in the dangers of magic, and Isabela, whose lack of belief and lack of respect for religion/beliefs led to one of the game's biggest conflicts. Discussion of religion and philosophy was always a huge part of the Dragon Age games, so when they almost entirely removed that element and didn't replace it with other types of belief that could lead to meaningful differences of opinion, we were just left with nothing of substance to really talk about. This isn't saying that the companions don't have things they believe in, but it's just not the same as characters from previous games. In general, their backgrounds don't form a unique worldview that results in differences of opinions and interesting conflict. Which brings my to my next point:
Lack of conflict between companions
There's a huge spectrum between "everyone is friends and always gets along" and "everyone hates each other and is happy when their ally is sold into slavery." In fact, fans often get really into fictional relationships that have quite a bit of conflict. Speaking for myself, I love relationships where two people may fight or disagree, but they truly care for one another and would willingly put themselves in harm's way to protect one another. So I think when a lot of people say the companions get along too well, they don't necessarily mean that they want them to all hate each other (maybe some do). They mean that they just want there to be interesting interpersonal conflicts. (I personally would love for a companion pair to argue a lot, but when it comes down to it, they actually really care about each other) Why do we want this? Well first, conflict just makes things more interesting. But I think that it also ties into point 1. In this game, the companions simply don't seem passionate enough about what they believe to argue for it, or, if they are, there's not anyone who challenges their beliefs and forces them to defend their position. I would say that Emmrich is very passionate about his love for spirits and necromancy, two things which are seen as weird and dangerous by most people in Thedas. However, there's almost no chance for him to passionately argue for his worldview because no one challenges it. There is that one scene with Taash finding his passion for working with the dead creepy, but as soon as the issue comes up, it's resolved. Compare that to Solas, where a big part of his characterization is love for spirits and frustration with fear and ignorance leading people to discriminate against what they don't understand. Having to face opposition to his beliefs, both in the world and within the inquisitor's inner circle (and sometimes the inquisitor themself), gives the writers the opportunities to emphasize core parts of his characterization.
On a final note for this section, it's just more interesting when different pairs of companions have unique relationships with each other. Solas and Cole's wholesome, mostly conflict-free friendship is made sweeter because you can compare it to Solas and Sera's relationship. It makes the relationships more meaningful when you can contrast it to how those same people click or don't click with other companions.
Limited relationship dynamics with Rook
The final issue I want to talk about is how all this ties into Rook. In previous games, you could learn a lot about a character's beliefs by seeing what they approved and didn't approve of. Anders approves of supporting mages, Fenris doesn't. Leliana approves of compassion for strangers, Morrigan doesn't because why should she help people who can't help themselves, and also it's a waste of time. Cole greatly approves of helping people, Solas slightly approves of you asking questions, Cassandra approves of expressing belief in the Maker, and so forth and so on. Then depending on the choices you make, your approval actually makes a difference in how these companions view you as their leader. But in Veilguard... well either the companions don't have strong feelings about things, or Rook isn't allowed to make decisions that oppose the beliefs they do have. Because of this, there's basically no conflict between Rook and the team. From my understanding, worst relationship you can get with the team is "distant boss whose employees don't invite them to their work parties," but that's not the same as Cassandra hating you so much she gets drunk or getting specific rival scenes like in DA2 where companions react entirely differently because Hawke consistently acted in opposition to their beliefs.
Final thoughts
So when people criticize the companions not getting along, I think it's less to do with the fact that people want them to hate each other, and more to do with the fact that we want companions who have a strong worldview shaped by their backstory, and for that worldview being challenged to lead to interesting conflict. Whether that challenge comes from other companions, the world, or Rook themself, I don't care - I just want interesting and meaningful conflict that is arises because the companions are strong characters who believe in something.
#dragon age#datv critical#datv spoilers#solas#iron bull#morrigan#cole#fenris#anders#cassandra pentaghast#dorian pavus#sera#also i know i talk about Solas a lot srry#this blog is called simpforsolas tho idk what you were expecting
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Chapter 18: First Impressions Are Often Correct
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eighteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 11.6K
Warnings: I'm going to rate this one 18+ just to be on the safe side. :) References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Mentions of Death, Blood, Gore, Possessive Soldier Boy, Protective Soldier Boy, Soft Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from the 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. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
A/N: I'm so sorry, I know this has been a long time coming. I work hard, but writer's block works harder tbh.
It had to be herogasm. You think to yourself with an audible groan looking up at the mid-century house from your position in the tree-line while watching the couples on the back porch writhe against one another.
The three hour drive from your apartment to Vermont had been uneventful and quiet. Every once in a while Ben would whisper something to you and you would half answer, but only because your mind was somewhere else or rather on someone else.
It was on Rosemary. She had stopped trying to text you or call you, and the silence was worse. You had no idea what she was going to do or what she was thinking. It was a miracle that she hadn’t shown up to your apartment and kicked down the front door before you left. You knew she was angry about the whole situation. And the sooner you dealt with the twins the sooner you could go see her.
Of course you still had no idea how you were going to bring up the conversation with Ben and you knew that there was no way he would let you just leave with no explanation to go talk to her.
This is why I hate texting. I should have just gone to see her, I shouldn’t have told her that Ben was back in a text, if anything that's a three drink minimum. Hell, she's probably half way through a second bottle of wine by now. Something that you also had considered several times today. Guess sobriety is going out the window. Shocker.
Ben kept asking you what was wrong, sensing your discomfort on the drive and held your hand tightly between the two of you, but you only shook your head whenever he asked. He thought that you were having second thoughts of going after the twins, but that was the one thing you were sure of. They deserved to pay for what they did, all of your team did. Anger rises beneath your skin like a roaring crowd when you think of all the years Ben spent alone in Russia being tortured and experimented on. Years that you could have stopped if only you'd known, years that he could never get back, memories that wouldn't fade in the next decade or two, and memories that you hoped you could replace by making him feel loved, by holding him close, and allowing yourself to forget the memories that still plagued you when you thought about the past.
But you still didn't know how the hell you were going to tell him about Rosemary. Every moment it felt like the words were going to vomit out of your mouth, but you clamped your jaw shut. You didn’t want to talk about Rosemary in front of Butcher and Hughie, didn’t want to tell Ben like that. What you needed to say about Rosemary and Lou didn’t deserve to be shouted at him or said in haste, you wanted to sit Ben down and tell him, give him time to adjust to the idea. Because you had no idea how he was going to react to the news that he was a dad and a grandfather.
Would he pull away again? Would he run? Would he leave me? Those thoughts kept swirling around your mind like a mixtape. You were scared that by telling him about her would make him go cold like he did the moment you told him you loved him. You remembered the distant look that replaced his smile as soon as you had uttered those three little words.
Little but not simple. Three little words that launched ships and started a hundred wars. Three little words with the power to create and the power to destroy. Three words that Ben had said to you more times than you could count since he came back to you, and three words you wished you never stopped hearing him say, the three words you always wanted him to say to you.
If Ben pushed you away now, you knew that you wouldn't survive it this time, knew that there was no going back. Which made you more fearful about Rosemary's reaction to Ben coming back into your life.
You were afraid that Rosemary would give you an ultimatum and make you choose between her and Lou or Ben. You really hoped that it didn’t come to that. You had just gotten Ben back and you didn’t want to have to pick between him and your family.
Because Ben is family too. You knew that deep down in your bones, even after everything that happened, Ben was your family. He was the only person who knew you inside and out, the only man you’d ever loved and the only person who understood you. You couldn’t turn your back on him and you didn’t want to shut him out. Not when you loved him more than life itself.
Your frown deepens as you continue to watch the people on the back porch while your supe hearing picks up the moans and sounds of the couples inside and the subtle thump of music, new pop songs that you didn't understand and didn't try. You were up with the times, but it didn't mean you had to like what was happening or the new music being produced no matter how hard Rosemary tried to get you to listen to it.
You sigh again, trying to drown out the sounds by focusing on the wind moving through the trees and the birds flitting through the branches overhead, but it wasn’t working. The beautiful day was already ruined by the loud and messy sounds from the inside of the house.
“Always wanted to bring you to one of these Sweetheart.” Ben glances over at you with a cheeky grin, lowering the binoculars from his eyes, but then he notes your frown. “Then again-“ His hand comes around your waist to pull you into him. “That means I would have had to share you with someone else, and I’d much rather have you all to myself.”
You can feel his smirk against your ear, but it does little ease your anxiety about Rosemary and the looming conversation you were going to have with Ben when this was over.
Hughie had disappeared a few moments ago to scout out the inside and to find the twins, while Butcher was doing a walk of the perimeter, leaving you and Ben to wait for the all clear. A welcome break, because every few minutes Hughie would play with a Geiger counter and the high pitched creak-like squeak was giving you a headache. Not to mention annoying you. You'd only been able to have a few sips of your coffee this morning after Butcher and Hughie burst into you apartment, but at least your anxiety was picking up the slack.
Because of course it was.
The house in front of you looked innocent enough on the outside, big windows light wood, but now that you were here, you really didn’t want to go inside. Despite wanting to face the twins, you didn’t want to go inside and be reminded of the one reason why you stayed away from Herogasm.
At least today we aren’t attending it as much as crashing it.
“Why do you think I hated going to Herogasm?” You murmur, frown deepening at you continue to stare at the house. The memories of the past had an ugly way of crashing down on you and despite not wanting to make Ben feel guilty, keeping them to yourself made you feel worse. Plus you figured he knew when you were lying, because Ben was basically a human lie detector when it came to you.
Ben sighs, his warm breath washing over the side of your face as his arm tightens around your waist to secure you to him. “Sweetheart please look at me.” His voice is comforting, filled with emotion, but you still don't look at him.
“What?” You whisper, mind still a million miles away.
His fingertips come under your chin to turn your face to his. Ben’s green eyes lock with yours, soft and apologetic, familiar in the best way and weird given the fact that he was wearing his uniform. You’d never seen him look so sorry when he was dressed up as Soldier Boy.
“I would have killed any man who tried to touch you, especially after the night we shared together. When Vogelbaum danced with you I wanted to rip his arms off.” His eyes darken.
You remembered the way he watched Vogelbaum and you dance together at the premiere with the cameras flashing in your eyes, but then the image of Countess plastered to his hip arises. The way she ran her hands up his chest, the way he turned his gaze away from you to stare at her.
“Yes, but see I never killed any woman that touched you-“
Double standard much?
“Well-“
“Countess doesn’t count.” You snap.
Ben’s thumb strokes along your jaw, before his expression softens again. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve apologized-“ You sigh, suddenly guilty. You hadn't meant to snap at him like that, you were on edge because of Rosemary, not because of what Ben did in the past. You were already starting to forgive him for what he did.
“Not for this.” He takes in a deep breath before he pulls you closer to him. “I’m sorry that I made you think I didn’t want you. Because I do. I don't want anyone else, haven't ever wanted anyone else like I want you. I was so stupid. I fucked those other women because I couldn’t handle how I felt about you and I didn’t think that you would ever want me even a fraction of how much I want you-“
“More.” You whisper before you can stop yourself, laying your hand against the front of his suit.
“That is impossible.” Ben smiles faintly.
You toy with the material, plucking it between your fingers. “It’s okay. I understand why you did it. But it was hard to watch you with them.” You try to fight the image of him and Countess again, that is quickly followed by the memories of the many women over the years you’d see Ben with in public and of course the memory of the first and only Herogasm you ever went to, the one you left early because you couldn’t bear to see Ben with anyone else. The same one that you swore you saw Ben watching you just as closely when Noir tried to reach out for you and you walked away.
It’s different now. You think to yourself. Ben said that he’s wanted me this whole time and I believe him. I don’t think he would lie about something like that, not to mention he’s been more open about what he’s feeling.
“I know.” Ben continues to stroke along your jaw. “But I promise it won’t happen ever again.”
“I believe you.” You lock your arms around the back of his neck to hold him closer to you, loving the way his body felt wrapped around you, like he was molded just for you.
“Good.” He leans his forehead against yours for a moment. "Can I kiss you yet?" Ben's words are quiet, barely above a whisper, so low that you know if you didn't have super hearing you'd have missed them.
"You've never been a patient man. In all the years I've known you." You breathe with a smile.
"Maybe I've just never met someone worth waiting for." Ben's nose nudges into the space between you faces, waiting for you to tell him it's okay and you want to. "But you are Sweetheart."
"You've waited forty years."
"You waited longer."
His words make a ball of emotion lodge in the back of your throat, because it meant Ben listened. He heard everything you said to him and he wasn't going to forget, he was going to make this up to you.
It was hard to say no to him, not when he was smiling at you and gazing at you the way you'd always wished him to.
"We both know I'm a bit more patient than you."
"Maybe."
"You know, maybe we should be focusing on something else right now." You smirk, still keeping your lips just as hairsbreadth away from his.
“It's hard to focus on anything else, not when you’re wearing something like that.” Ben purrs, thumbs brushing against you hips in a way that makes your chest tight.
Your smirk deepens “Oh this old thing?”
At the last minute you had chosen to wear the outfit you had picked when you thought you were going to be going to Russia to get Ben, rather than your old supe suit. You didn’t want to be connected with the person you were then, and despite Ben’s want to hold on to Soldier Boy, you were more than happy to let Indigo go.
The outfit was working better than you thought. The tight black tactical pants, combat boots, black leather jacket, and long sleeved leather corseted blouse that was sinched at your waist all perfectly accentuated the curves that your mother tried to hide. When you had walked out of your closet wearing it, Ben’s entire body had gone rigid.
“What?” You’d asked him with an innocent smile standing just a few steps outside your closet, while watching the tension in his shoulders.
“Damn it sweetheart you’re making this hard.” He had responded, clenching his hands into fists at his sides to hold himself back from crossing your bedroom to touch you. It made you smile wider to understand that he was trying to respect the boundaries you made between the two of you.
“What is it that I’m making hard Benjamin?”
“Fuck. Don’t tease me. Nobody likes a tease.”
You’d smirked at him. “Sorry babe you walked right into that one.”
“It’s not fair-“ Ben had growled.
“What’s not fair?”
“You wearing that, biting your fucking lip like that-“
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He’d stalked towards you, eyes dark, causing you to back up until your back hit your pale bedroom wall. His hand had landed next to your head, the other wound around your hip so you could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes.
“You know, two can play at that game Sweetheart.” Ben had murmured, easing his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips.
“And what game is that?” You’d said it trying to keep your composure, but the dark look in his eyes and the smell of his shampoo was everywhere. Your heart beat had given you away, thudding violently in your chest as if it wanted to break free. It was hard to ignore how much you still wanted him after all these years.
"You know exactly what game." Ben had held your gaze, raising an eyebrow as a confident smirk pulled at his lips. He could hear your heartbeat too, probably could smell how much you wanted him. “But you’re so fucking beautiful I'll let it slide.”
“Huh?” It had been the last thing you thought he was going to say. If anything you’d thought he was going to tease you.
The hand that had been previously on the wall near your head dropped onto your face to gently trace the arch of your brow and the dip of your bottom lip.
“You always have been. I thought I remembered wrong but-" His expression shifted from the seductive smirk into something softer. "Fuck I missed you." Ben had leaned his forehead against yours. "So tease me all you want. I'll wait, because you're worth every second."
Remembering what he said earlier still filled you with an incredible amount of love and made you want to kiss him all the more now. Knowing that he was willing to wait for you to be okay with whatever came next made you fall harder for him. But now you knew that you needed to focus on what you were about to do. And standing here in front of the house, listening to what was going on inside made you sober up, just a little bit…. But not completely.
"Then again I thought those overalls were pretty sexy too." Ben states, staring down at you with a wide smile as the mid-afternoon sun turned his hair into a light brown and found the flecks of gold in his eyes. He looked every bit as handsome as you were accustomed to, so much in fact that it made your heart ache.
"Sure." You roll your eyes. "I think you're the first person in history to say that." Your fingers lightly curl into the strands at the back of his head.
"Maybe. Or maybe you're just the sexiest woman in history."
"Shut up."
Ben's gaze darkens. "Make me, Sweetheart."
Every viable thought except the thought of crashing your lips to his vanishes.
I wonder if they're as soft as I remember. If he still makes that sound when I-
"You two ready?" Butcher interrupts appearing just over Ben's shoulder, but smirking when he sees how close the two of you are. "Or do you love birds need a little alone time?"
You roll your eyes and let go of Ben's hair, as he loosens his grip on your hips. Stepping back away from him was like having a bucket of cold water drop over you, you missed him and yet he was standing a full sixteen inches away from you.
This is really not good.
"You have the worst fucking timing." Ben moves to pick up his shield, but the playful smirk he'd had a few seconds ago has been replaced with a frown.
You wondered if he was as disappointed as you were.
The wind shifts and you can smell the Temp V in Butcher's veins, hear the steady beat of his heart as it pumps blood through his body, strengthening him, making him feel indestructible. When Butcher and Hughie had injected it at the back of Butcher's car, you couldn't help but be reminded of the day you took V. You had been afraid and when they injected it, you remember the pain, the unspeakable pain that made you scream so loud that Ben heard you from the room he was being kept in, and he broke through the wall to get to you. It was how the scientists learned that Ben had super strength, because he had smashed through solid rock to make sure you were okay.
Butcher shrugs and begins to walk through the trees towards the side door of the house, leaving you and Ben alone.
"You didn't answer my question." He hefts his shield up with a smirk.
He didn't have to explain, you knew he was asking about the kiss. "I'll take a raincheck."
"Hmm." Ben takes a few steps towards the house, before he stops to look back at you. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Huh?"
"In the car, even now. You're kinda quiet." He shrugs.
"I-" You were going to say that you were fine, but you knew that he would clock the lie. "We need to talk about something, but it can wait. This is important too."
Ben's frown deepens, but then he finally sighs. "Alright. Come on you’re lagging behind doll."
"Guess you changed your mind about wanting me here." You snort as you catch up to him.
Ben puts his hand on your wrist, turning you to look at him. "I always want you with me." His hand trails up your arm to finally rest under your chin. Ben smiles, leaning down towards you, but before you can arch up into him, he presses a kiss to your forehead. "I love you." He murmurs into the top of your head.
"I love you too."
And with that, you both follow Butcher into the house hosting the worst event in all of history.
I should have brought ear plugs. You cringe as you follow behind Ben and Butcher, weaving through the lower levels of the house. Maybe someone will let me borrow their blindfold. Hopefully there are nose plugs somewhere… well there have been other kinds of plugs but those are a bit big for my nose.
You walk down the staircase after Ben and Butcher who pulled ahead a few moments ago and as you do the sharp sour smell of a chemical wafts in your face, different than the other odors in the house.
What is that?
You round the corner and see Ben up ahead, shrouded in smoke, staring down an attractive muscular black man who for some reason has decided to raise his fists to challenge Ben. Your eyes trace the man's face, recognition pulling at your heart. You knew who he was. The first time you'd seen him he'd only been a boy, made eye contact with you at a funeral you couldn't help but go to, after Ben made a mistake. You'd offered the boy an encouraging smile and left the boy's family an envelope of cash in their mailbox because you couldn't think of anything else to do for them. You knew it couldn't replace who they lost, but you didn't know what else to do. Ben had been upset with himself after, he always was when he lost control. He showed up on your doorstep like he always did, drunk, high, smelling like stale perfume, and fell asleep in your bed after you reassured him the same way you always did.
Now that little boy was grown up and standing in front of you. You see recognition flash in his eyes as he sees you. Of course it does. You didn't look any different and you hadn't worn your supe suit when you went to the funeral.
"Not him." Butcher says to Ben, but Ben doesn't look away from the man.
"Ben." You whisper, reaching out to touch his arm gently.
Ben's eyes flick to yours. The look in Ben's eyes is familiar, predatory, unwilling to back down from a fight. Soldier Boy. You'd seen it countless times before, talked him out of killing people in the past. You hated how quickly you had to slip into your old job, the one that made you feel like a babysitter, but you shake it off.
"He doesn't know what he's doing. Come on. The Twins are upstairs, I can hear them arguing." It was true, you could, but you didn't want this to turn ugly so quickly. Not when the real reason why you were here were currently arguing about toilet cameras.
His jaw tightens, eyes sliding to the man standing at the other end of the room, before he nods once and motions for you to go ahead of him.
As you continue to move through the house, you fight the shudder that threatens to travel down your spine when you think of how Ben looked moments ago. It was the first time you had seen Soldier Boy since Ben showed up again, and it was the same way you remembered it. You just hoped deep down that Ben really did want to change and that he was adopting the façade of Soldier Boy to get through what came next. You knew that you were going to have to adopt one as well.
"Here." You stop just before the two of you round the corner where the Twins were in the other room. "Let me go first. They might not try to run if I go in before you."
Ben frowns. "I don't want you to-"
"I know, but it'll be better this way."
"Fine."
You walk around the wall and towards the circular room where the Twins are fighting, ignoring the couples on the outskirts that are grinding against one another.
Like Countess, the Twins didn't look good, both were considerably older, rounder, grayer, and more wrinkly than the last time you'd seen them, but they were still the same. Still arguing and still just as annoying as they had been forty years ago.
"I never want to see you again!" Tommy spits at his sister, adjusting the golden robe slung over his shoulders that flaps around him like a cape.
"Oh sure!" Tessa sniffs while puffing on a joint. "Our Westfield mall appearance is next week and nobody is going to come see you without me!"
That must suck to have your powers depend on someone else.
"Wow, mall appearances? Aren't we all getting a bit old for that?" You flash a winning smile as you step down into the room, locking eyes with Tessa.
Both of the twins visibly pale, their hearts speeding up to work overtime, as the stench of adrenaline begins to waft through the air between you. It's almost comical how identical their reactions are to Countess' at seeing you for the first time in forty years. Then again you hoped that you looked better than they did.
Why didn't I try to find out more after Ben "died?" If our entire team had this reaction to seeing me then I would have known the truth and Ben wouldn't have been in a fucking Russian Lab all these years!
Their plan to ensure you not being in Nicaragua had paid off, because not only were you not there, you didn't want anything to do with any of them. And you wished that you had confronted them all those years ago. You knew that you'd live with that guilt for a long time, but now you allowed your anger at what they all did to Ben, overpower it.
"Y/n-" Tessa stutters.
It was weird to see her at a loss for words. You and all of Payback had listened to her nag Tommy since the moment they joined the team. Judging by what you had walked into, you figured that she hadn't changed at all.
"Hey long time no see!" Tommy fakes enthusiasm while licking his lips nervously, eyes darting to the open doors behind you. You could practically see the escape plan forming in his mind.
"You know, when I found out you guys were living in Vermont I was surprised. I would have thought that you moved down South. They’re probably more accepting of your relationship.” You make air quotes around the word relationship, before shifting your smile into an worried frown. “Oh sorry, are the two of you still pretending that you’re not fucking?”
Tessa’s gaze turns stone cold. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d check in.” You look around the room. “You guys have a nice house. Must have budgeted better than Countess did. Her tailer, now that was a shit hole. Must not have done as many mall appearances.”
Tommy’s heart skips a beat at the mention of Countess’s name. “Look y/n-“
“Please. We didn’t have anything against you. We didn’t come after you. Even after all these years we left you alone.” Fear seeps into Tessa’s voice with her plea, eyes wide with worry.
They had reason to be worried, you’d all but admitted to killing Countess.
“Oh sweetie.” You with false sweetness in your tone. “It’s cute that you think you can beg for mercy. That you're deserving of it.” The room begins to shake with the force of your anger as your eyes shift to bright purple. Cracks like thin spiderwebs stretch through the wide windows behind them and through the thick drywall as you lose control, the composure you always held on to drowning in the flood of emotion you feel when you look at the two of them. “Ben told me exactly what happened that day-“
“He lied to you!” Tommy exclaims. “He went crazy! You know how he gets, how he loses control!”
“He lost control and we had to protect ourselves y/n-“ Tessa adds, another lie.
Ben steps into the room beside you, his eyes are focused on the Twins, and if you thought they looked afraid when you showed up, they look near dead when Ben appears.
"You were saying?" You raise an eyebrow.
"Ben! Hey Buddy!." Tommy forces another smile but pales when he realizes Ben just heard him and Tessa try to lie to you. "How are you? Long time. We were just talking to y/n about-“
Ben's eyes narrow, stopping whatever Tommy was going to say about you.
"Nicaragua wasn't our fault!" Tommy says to recover. "Neither was the premiere." His eyes dart to yours, cowering under the purple light that pulses from your irises.
Wow. Just. Wow.
"We swear." Tessa adds.
"Why should we believe you?" You spit.
"Please-"
"Then whose fault was it?" Ben's frown deepens, hand tightening on the shield.
None of the other couples have stopped what they are doing, too enthralled in one another to notice what was going to unfold between the four of you.
"It was Noir!" Tommy shouts desperately, his eyes flitting from Ben to you as if trying to see which one of you will believe him. "He gave Ben to the Russians."
It's almost pathetic watching his mad scramble to protect himself. Apart of you hates that you don't feel guilty for any of this, at least with Countess at the beginning you felt some guilt for hurting her, but with them there was nothing. Not even the prick of remorse, there was only anger.
Ben chuckles under his breath. "We all know that Noir didn't even take a shit without Vought's say so."
"Not to mention his head was so far up Stan's ass it's a wonder that he could breathe." You narrow your eyes at the two of them waiting for them to make a move. They might be cowards, but if you knew the Twins well enough, you knew that they weren't above throwing a bolt of lighting in your direction. And you knew for a fact that electrocution wasn't fun.
"It's the truth!" Tessa shouts above the moans and wet squelch of the people around you. “Please y/n we have children.”
“You're really the worst liar hon. Always have been." You snap, listening to her heartbeat jolt in her chest as she attempts to save herself.
"Please talk Ben out of this, just like you did for Noir-“ Tommy's plea falls on deaf ears, but you knew what he was talking about. The day that you saved Noir's life because he started a fight with Ben over a stupid role in a movie. But this was different, no part of you wanted to save them from this, to save them from what they deserved.
“Noir will get what’s coming to him.” You don't recognize your own voice. "You brought this on yourselves."
But then something shifts in the air, call it a feeling, or an energy current, but something feels wrong.
The music coming from the radio has changed to a Russian pop song, why it's playing you have no idea, all you know is that it does something to Ben.
The sound of his shield hitting the ground rings in your ears and you turn to look at him. His entire body is tensed beneath his suit, sweat dotting along his hairline, red beginning to creep into his cheeks. His eyes are squeezed shut and he shakes his head as if he's trying to clear it.
"Ben? Are you okay?" Your hold on the room vanishes, eyes fading back to their normal color as your worry turns to Ben.
His fists are clenched tightly together as he brings them up to the sides of his head, chest beginning to glow with his new power, the one you'd never seen before, the one that Ben said practically vaporized whatever was in it's path.
Shit.
"Ben. Stay with me, listen to my voice." You touch the sides of his face, begging him to listen to your plea. As much as you wanted the Twins to pay, Ben wasn't just losing control of his powers, this was different. It was almost like he was being dragged somewhere else, somewhere you couldn't follow.
"Everything's okay. I'm here, I'm right here." You soothe, but he continues to glow brighter and brighter and you're directly in the line of fire.
Shit.
Ben's eyes flash open, no longer bright green but an orange-gold that makes fear snag in your ribs like a fishing hook. His hand makes contact with your chest shoving you to the side, out of the way of the beam, but unfortunately through the solid rock wall.
You don't really know what happens next. The world goes black for a few minutes, not like when you die, but just black as everything burns around you when Ben explodes. You're not sure how long you're under, could be minutes, could be hours, all you know is that when you wake up everything hurts.
It's how you know that you didn't officially die. Whenever you woke up after death, it was different, you felt powerful, reborn, but right now you felt like a train ran over you. A headache throbs at your temples as you begin to come to, blinking your eyes against the darkness that doesn't go away. Your ears are ringing, filled with the screams of those who survived and the smell of burned flesh and blood surrounds you like a cloud.
A mountain of rubble and roofing covers you, leaving you in the darkness to get your bearings, but nothing feels broken.
At least the brick fireplace broke my fall. You think to yourself with a groan as you begin to push off the planks of wood and pieces of the roof that cover your body, so you can sit up. As soon as you do, your head spins and you fight the unpleasant urge to throw up.
Great. Might have a concussion.
You might be as strong as Ben, but your ability to die meant that you were just a little bit less equipped to handle a hit like that.
Ben. Worry and fear war in your heart as you look around the broken room that lays in tatters around you.
The house isn’t recognizable anymore. Singed carpet floats in tufts with ash around your face like a swarm of flies while fires burn in clumps all over the ruined room. Chunks of drywall and planks of blackened wood litter the floor and the back half of the house is gone, burned to a crisp in the blast from Ben.
What the fuck did they put in his chest? Ben had tried to describe it to you, tried to explain it, but standing here in the rubble you understood just how bad it was. The ruins in Mid-town you had seen the coverage of on the news, but it was a completely different thing to experience it in person.
People are going to think that he did this on purpose. That he's a bad person, that he's some kind of terrorist. The thought is immediately followed by the fear that Vought and the government would come to take him away. Your jaw tightens. I'd like to see them try.
The bodies of Tommy and Tessa are burned beyond recognition, still holding hands, but now are just blacked lumps of flesh and bone that lay where they tried to make their final stand. But you feel no remorse.
It’s what we came here to do, to make them pay. You bite the inside of your cheek listening to the screams of those who survived. I just didn't think that so many others would get hurt.
You continue to look around the room, worry rising in your chest as you think of Ben and remember the look on his face. He had been scared of what was about to happen even if he didn’t want to admit it. He lost control. In the past when he lost control the worst thing he could do was rip someone in half or smash their face into a pulp, but now if Ben ever lost control he'd level a building.
I see a lot of yoga in his future. Or maybe anger management classes.
Although the thought makes you smile, as soon as you see Ben everything else fades from your mind. Ben is on his knees in the center of the room, head slumped forward on his chest, hands laying limply by his sides, as he takes in shaky breaths. You could hear the frantic pound of his heart, beating hard against his rib cage as if begging to be released. Seeing him like that almost sends you into overdrive. You’d never seen him look so defeated, so small, so tired, so… lost.
“Ben?” You fall to your knees next to him, reaching out to touch his face, to bring his attention to you.
His body tenses as you do so, eyes narrowing when he meets yours like he doesn’t know you. His eyes miles away.
But where?
“Hey, it’s me.” You say gently, cupping his face with your hands to rub your thumbs across his cheeks while fear grips your heart as you try to bring him back to you. “It’s me, I’m here. It’s okay.”
Ben inhales sharply as if suddenly remembering, the look in his eyes clearing for a moment, rising through the fog. "Y/n?" He whispers.
"Yeah. I'm here." You repeat, smiling at him even though the urge to cry builds in the back of your throat. It broke your heart to see him like this. You push his hair back from his face, brushing the ash from the mahogany strands.
“Are you okay? Did I-“ Worry etches itself across his handsome face.
“I’m fine. Shhh.” You soothe, pulling him against you so your can rub his back softly and lock him in your embrace. But the truth was you were afraid. You didn’t understand what happened and couldn’t explain the look in his eyes when he went under, when he started to lose himself in his newfound powers. Ben crumbles into you, leaning his head against your shoulder as if needing it to strengthen him.
“It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You weren’t sure the effects the blast had on him, just that he seemed unsure as to how the hell he did it.
Where did he go in those moments?
“The twins?” Ben mumbles.
“They’re dead.” You could hear the approaching ambulances and police cars, hear the anxious chatter of the survivors outside.
We’ve got to get out of here.
“Come on. Let’s go.” You say softly rising to your feet and helping him up. Ben stumbles a step, shaking his head like he can’t catch his bearings and the worry comes roaring back. You catch him and tilt his body so he can lean on you. “Ben are you okay?” Your fingers dance against the sides of his face trying to bring his focus back to you, because you were afraid he might lose himself to whatever the hell happened before.
“I will be in a minute.” Ben takes in a shaky breath, leaning on your shoulder. "I don't know what happened."
"It's okay." His shield rises telekinetically from the rubble and into your outstretched hand that glows a brilliant purple in the dusty light. Smoke billows up from the room around you obscuring the sunlight that filters through the ruined front of the house, but you can still see the front drive already becoming swarmed with people and news crews.
Because that's exactly what Rosemary needs to see, me and Ben on the 5'oclock news. Fuck.
"Come on." You lead him back the way you can, toting his shield in your free hand, down the stairs.
When you spot Butcher, Ben straightens finally catching his bearings and takes the shield from you. Butcher looks from Ben to you, eyebrows raised.
"Sorted?"
"Yeah." Ben frowns.
You could tell that he was still a little shaky, but you knew he wasn't going to admit that to anyone, especially not to Butcher. Your gaze falls on the man from before laying on the ground, the man that Butcher had told Ben to leave.
Why did he want Ben to spare his life if Butcher was only going to beat him down?
But just as you take a step towards the man to check him for injuries, a long shadow falls on the floor at your feet.
Your eyes jolt upwards and focus on Homelander. The smell of hairspray, hair dye, and cheap cologne waft through the air at Homelander's appearance. He's shorter than you expected him to be, not overtly muscular, but he didn't need to be. Supes with superstrength didn't need to look like body builders, and you suspected that the only reason why Homelander even had any kind of muscle was for his image as America's Hero. Then again, you never complained about Ben's muscular physique.
I don’t think anybody should complain about that and- Nope. Nope. Not thinking about that right now.
But as you stare at him there's something wrong, something that you can't place, something that tugs at the back of your mind when you look at him, almost as if you've forgotten something important.
Seeing him in person is surreal. You'd only ever seen him on the news or on billboards or on those stupid energy drinks that were sold at the bodega on the corner where you get coffee filters sometimes, but the look in his eyes is the same. It's cold, unfeeling, and reminds you of those ridiculous shark documentaries that Rosemary is obsessed with. The only time she could watch shark week was after Lou went to bed. She said that watching it made her feel better about her job and you didn't complain.
Homelander looks around the room forcing a smile, a predatory glare in his eyes.
"William Butcher and Soldier Boy. Of course you are behind this. It really is all about me." Homelander's smile widens.
Narcissistic much? This guy's like a walking red flag.
He takes a step closer to the three of you, and Ben steps in front of you to shield you from Homelander's view. Homelander clocks the movement, but then tsks his finger at Butcher.
"William we made a deal to fight to the death, you and me." Homelander's eyes begin to glow. "You cheated, deals off."
The red flash of the laser-vision illuminates Ben's face in sharp contrast as the beam hits Butcher full in the chest propelling him back into the wall. His body falls to the ground and lies still.
Well. That's not good.
Honestly you didn't like Butcher all that much, but you couldn't help but feel a little bit bad.
You glance up from Butcher's body to gaze at Homelander again. Fighting him hadn't been on the agenda today, but it was starting to look that way. You knew what his powers were, knew that Vought probably told him his entire life that he was a god and that no one could compare to him. And you knew that the man standing next to you hadn't changed enough to walk away from the fight, no matter how bad his odds were.
And deep down you knew that you weren't going to let Ben take that beating, which of course meant that you were going to fight Homelander. Not that you were afraid of him. One look at him might have sent everyone else heading for the hills, but he didn't intimidate you.
"I watched all your movies, hundreds of times. You were the only one that was nearly as strong as me." The look on Homelander's face is one of respect almost wonder.
And you can imagine a smaller version of Homelander being fed all the same propaganda that Ben and you were fed all those years ago, imagine Homelander growing up hearing that he was stronger, greater, faster than Soldier Boy, and imagine Vogelbaum working hard to make sure to mold Homelander into the hero that America wanted. Not to mention all the shit he probably heard when he was with Stormfront. You were very happy that you didn't have to see her again, though now you had a fun story to tell Ben about one of his exes.
“Buddy you’re wearing a cape, do you think you look strong?” Ben frowns at Homelander.
“It is pretty stupid.” You agree examining Homelander’s supe suit. “Honestly I thought you had it bad with that dorky looking helmet-“ You glance at Ben out of the corner of your eye.
“Really? You’re gonna do this now?” Ben glowers turning his attention to you.
“I’m just being honest it was pretty bad and I’m glad you decided not to wear it today. But his cape is definitely worse.”
“Do you want me to bring up that ridiculous hood you had?”
“You can, but I won’t believe you, because that hood was fabulous and I looked fantastic in it.”
Homelander clears his throat to catch your attention. “Um hello?”
“Hi.” You force a smile. “Oh sorry did we interrupt your little monologue?”
Homelander's gaze turns icy as you continue. “Because we can take this from the top. What was the line again? Something about power or watching his films? I was only half listening. Did you want me to record it for you so you can post it on your socials?”
“What the f-“ Homelander begins to say, but you interrupt him.
“I mean. That is why you practiced it in the mirror for so long right? And why you did your hair and makeup?" You scrunch up your nose. "I'd skip that last mist of hairspray if I were you. You want it to look smooth, not look like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket.”
You could tell that Ben was trying to maintain his composure, but his mouth was twitching in a smile. “Oh wait does your suit have a body cam? I guess that makes things easier, because it probably doesn't have pockets. Not to mention if you dropped your phone while you were flying around-"
"Who the fuck are you?" Homelander spits interrupting you.
"No one important."
“Is he really what passes for a hero these days?” Ben cocks an eyebrow. “He’s just a cheap fucking knock off of me.”
“No.” Homelander snarls, eyes beginning to glow bright red. “I’m the upgrade.”
The laser cuts through the air in slow motion, but you’re already moving.
"Ben!" His name rips from your throat as you lunge forward and shove him as hard as you can out of the way of the beam. You feel the laser tear through your body, the force throwing you backward through one of the wood paneled walls and then the darkness swallows you whole.
If someone were to ask you what it was like to die, you wouldn’t know how to answer. To exist in those thirteen seconds sometimes feels like a dream, like you're floating, but it's always silent. And the silence scares you. How quickly it comes to drag you under and how it seems to replace everything you know or remember about the real world until you come back to life. You understood why Ben didn't like being alone, because you didn't either. It reminded you too much of those moments you were gone, wishing for it to stop. There was never a bright light, there was only the darkness and the silence that fell when your heart stopped beating.
When you take your first breath in thirteen seconds it's full of dust and ash, swirling into your mouth as you inhale sharply to jumpstart your lungs. But at the same time everything is different. The colors in the room are brighter, the sounds more acute, the smells just a fraction stronger, and you feel different. Power floods through your limbs, swirling through flesh and bone, pouring through your veins, electrifying through each nerve ending and setting you on fire, more than any other power ever has. You'd never felt power like this before. Even with Countess and the others that had killed you, no other power you'd ever gotten had felt this strong.
You stand up from the rubble you landed in, covered in a layer of dust and blood. The hole in your new outfit where the laser struck is just under your left breast, the mark left behind already a pink scar. And you knew that Ben would probably kill you for it later, for taking the laser for him, but you didn't care.
Homelander is floating in the center of the room, holding Ben by the throat, smiling cruelly at him.
"Hey asshole." You snarl, spitting out a glob of blood onto the ruined carpet. "We're not done."
Homelander turns his head towards you amused, while Ben grabs at the front of his suit, trying to get his attention, but Homelander is focused on you.
"So that's it? That's your big trick? Laser vision? Forgive me for not cowering in fear." Your hands clench into fists at your sides.
He eyes you for a moment. "You're Indigo aren't you?"
"I used to be. Now I'm just disappointed. I expected more from Vought's big hero, but now I see that you're just another asshole who thinks he's a god." Your eyes drift to Ben for a moment, worry clawing at your heart when you meet his gaze. "So drop him. Before I drop you."
"You’re very confident for someone who was dead a few seconds ago. I don't really see how that ability is going to help you-"
"Before I didn’t want to kill you."
"And you think you can?" He laughs.
"No." You smirk. "I know I can."
"Who do you think you’re talking to?"
"I’m not talking to much." Your eyes narrow. "But I'll be nice, and I'll give you a chance to leave. To tuck your tail between your fucking legs and fly away. We didn't come here for you and you and I don't have to do this."
"And if I don't leave?"
"Then I'll kill you."
"I'd like to see you try." Homelander throws Ben as hard as he can through the brick fireplace, causing rock and mortar to rain down on top of him, but Homelander's eyes don't leave yours. “Well why don’t you give me your best sho-“
He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence, your body ploughs into his tackling him through the solid outer wall and onto the back lawn.
Truthfully you hadn’t meant to go through the wall, you’d only meant to pin him to it, but flying was proving just a little more difficult than you expected. Your hand closes on Homelander’s wrist bringing him down against the ground so hard that the earth quakes, before you throw him as far away from you as you can.
His body spins awkwardly in the air, before he ploughs into one of the thick oak trees head on, at the edge of the backyard. The loud snap of the tree compensating for Homelander’s body fills the air.
He stumbles to his feet, eyes narrowed in pure hatred, lip curled back in a snarl, and his blonde hair flopping forward into his face.
“You chose wrong.” You spit, rolling your shoulders, preparing for what came next.
Homelander lets out a roar and flies towards you, arms outstretched for you, but you’re ready for him.
You catch his fist before it lands against your face and tighten your other hand around his throat. Your bodies are floating two feet off the ground, but it doesn’t faze you.
When Homelander’s gaze meets yours you see just a flicker of fear, a spark, quickly masked by his shock. He struggles to pull away to push you away with his free hand, but all you do is tighten your grip.
"You've never felt real pain before have you?" You force your face into a sympathetic frown, before your eyes harden. "Allow me to enlighten you." You throw him to the ground again, watching his body spin and screech against the grass and dirt.
Given the screams and smell of blood in the air, any witnesses from the massacre inside were at the front of the house waiting for the police, leaving you and Homelander on the backside of the house alone.
Worry for Ben rose in your chest like the peak of a wave, you hadn't seen him since Homelander threw him through the fireplace, but you funnel that worry into all encompassing rage.
"They told you that you were a god right? That you were the most powerful supe that ever lived. They were wrong. There's only one supe more powerful than you, and you just fucking pissed her off." You shout beginning to float towards him.
Homelander growls rising to his feet, eyes glowing bright red as he fires a laser at you, but you’re ready.
Your own beam catches his mid air between you, the high pitched sizzle and smell of ozone floats across your face, but you don't back down. If anything, it just makes you more angry.
And then something slams into you from the side, breaking the connection between your beam and Homelander's.
"What-" You shout, looking up at the body above yours, preparing to blast them off, but you realize it's Ben. "Ben what-"
"Stay here." He growls, eyes black. Ben looks pissed, whether it’s because you pushed Ben out of the way before or if it’s because he’s annoyed that Homelander punched him you’re not sure.
"What?" You look beyond him, to see Hughie and Butcher tackle Homelander to the ground.
They're going to try to turn him human.
"I can hold him down-" You say. “Let me help.”
"No." Ben snarls as he stalks towards Homelander, his chest beginning to glow.
“Ben-“
“Stay the fuck there.” Ben shouts still looking at Homelander.
Your eyes flit to the leader of the Seven. Watching him struggle against Hughie and Butcher, who yell at one another, but you don’t hear them. You wait for the remorse to crash over you, the guilt, but it never comes.
I gave him a choice. He could have run. He didn’t. He chose this.
And just when you think it’s all over, Homelander breaks away from them, surging up into the air to freedom. You feel your feet leave the ground to follow him, someone’s hand tightens on your ankle and drags you back down to earth.
“No.” Ben’s voice is more of a growl than anything else.
He’s angry, that much you can tell from the look on his face and from the way his eyes have hardened into two solid chunks of emerald as he locks eyes with you.
But why? Angry because Homelander got away or angry because I pushed him out of the way?
“Ben I can get him. Let me go.” You kick your ankle but Ben holds on.
“No.” Ben snarls. “You’re not about to go after that sick fuck by yourself.”
“Ben-“
“No. If I have to chain you to the ground I will.” Ben pulls you down further and releases your ankle to fasten his hand around you waist to hold you tighter against the ground. “You’re not going after him.”
“Fine.” You snap pulling yourself from his grasp, your own temper flaring.
You hated when Ben did that, when he acted like you weren’t just as capable as him of doing this. It reminded you of your childhood, when you were treated like you were made of glass, a pretty doll that was made to be looked at but never touched.
And you knew it came from Ben’s want to protect you, knew that it came from his fear of losing you, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.
You didn’t pout when Ben went out to face someone, didn’t try to act like he couldn’t do it.
“I know that maybe I’m a little behind but… WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?” Hughie shouts. “You have laser vision and you can fly and you can move things with your mind!?” He looks frantically from you to Ben.
You don’t answer, your eyes are still on Ben who looks ready to throw Butcher’s car into space. You could practically see the waves of anger rolling off of him like a comic strip.
“You didn’t before, did you?” Butcher’s eyes trace your body as things begin to click into place. “You didn’t before he killed you.”
“Hold on.” Hughie holds up his hand. “Are you telling me that you die and you come back to life WITH THE POWERS OF THE SUPE THAT KILLED YOU?”
“It wasn’t in the files.” Butcher’s eyes still haven’t left you. “Vought didn’t know did they?”
You don’t like the way he’s looking at you, don’t like the glimmer in his eyes as if you’d just solved all his problems. It was the exact look that was in the eyes of the scientists the day you took the serum for the first time. To them that’s all Ben and you were, lab rats, people who were stupid enough to listen to the wild ideas of glory and a better world they spouted.
“We should go.” You murmur, listening to the sounds of the ambulances and the police coming up the driveway. “It’s about to be a circus here and I'd rather not make my big social media debut covered in rubble and blood."
Ben’s mouth is clamped together, green eyes blazing at your mention of blood. You knew that he was focused on the bloody hole left behind in the corset where Homelander's laser had ripped through your body.
Another scar, another fun story to tell my daughter when I see her… great.
*****************************************
The car ride to Legend’s is dead silent. Ben doesn’t look at you, doesn’t try to hold your hand, and doesn’t try to touch you in any way. Instead his hands are curled into fists, sitting on the tops of his thighs while his anger heats the inside of the car like a furnace. You knew it was only a matter until he exploded, but now you had bigger things on your mind.
You had just exposed yourself to Homelander, showed your face to him, not to mention you admitted to being Indigo. It would be easy for him to find your real name in the Vought archives find your file and the same name that linked you to Rosemary. She’d gone back to her maiden name when her husband died, which meant the two of you had the same last name and it wouldn’t be difficult for Homelander to find her.
Which meant you needed to get to her first.
You had tried to text her, tried to tell her to have a bag ready and that you were going to pick her up, but she was refusing to do so and you didn’t exactly want to text “Homelander is a fucking psychopath and he’s going to come after you” to her phone. Plus you couldn’t exactly call her, not in this cramped car.
Legend is waiting on the front porch of his country home when Butcher pulls his car into the end of the long driveway, somewhere that you’d been to many times in the past. He's smoking a joint and scrolling through his phone, wearing the same outfit you had seen him in a few days ago.
"Kitten!" He smiles wide at you when he sees you and pulls you into a hug. “I was worried when I heard about that mess with Countess. You never called.” Legend frowns at you, blowing out a lungful of smoke. "Guess you guys had a talk."
"Something like that." You frown. "It got complicated really fast."
“I told you so.” His eyes shift to where Ben is glowering a foot behind you. "I see he found you. I didn't tell him-"
"I know you didn't. Thank you for keeping your promise." You smile tightly, squeezing Legend's hand. He really was a good friend. One of the oldest ones you had besides Ben.
"Figured if I did, you'd keep him from ripping my head off."
“Haven’t decided if I’m not going to yet.” Ben snarls and Legend's eyes widen in fear.
But you knew that he was just redirecting his anger. Ben was angry because you put yourself in harms way to protect him and the sooner you had it out, the sooner you could go get Rosemary and Lou.
"Ben we both know that you're not mad at Legend, you're mad at me. So you might as well spit it out, because we've got bigger problems than your hissy fit-" You begin to say. You were sick of him pouting, refusing to look at you, refusing to touch you.
"What the FUCK were you thinking?!" Ben roars towering over you, eyes flashing. "Getting between me and him like that!"
Legend backs away, afraid that he's going to get caught in the cross-fire.
"Calm down." You sigh, gritting your teeth together. You were trying your best not to lose it either, because the last thing this situation needed was you losing control.
"DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN." Ben's hands are clenched tightly into fists, his suit beginning to glow bright.
"You're going to have to calm down or you're going to blast me to kingdom come!" You snap back.
Ben grits his teeth together and closes his eyes tightly while his chest begins to fade back to normal and when it does, he opens his eyes to glare at you. "Why did you do that? I had him handled-"
"You didn't."
"Yes I did. You didn't give me a chance to-"
"No what I did was I didn't give that psychopath a chance to punch a hole through your chest with his fucking laser vision." You poke him in the chest. "Of the two of us, I have a greater chance of surviving that!”
By then Butcher and Hughie had moved to give the two of you a wide berth, standing where Legend was watching the two of you looking bored. They were probably hoping that you didn’t cut one of them in half with your new powers.
"Are they always like this?" You hear Butcher ask Legend from where they stand a safe distance away.
"Pretty much." Legend answers, blowing out a puff of the fowl smelling smoke.
"Do you ever get used to it?" Hughie mutters.
"Nope."
“Is there an off button?” Butcher sighs.
“Nope.” Legend puffs his joint.
"You don't know that!" Ben spits back at you. "I could have!"
"I wasn't willing to take that chance damnit!"
How can I make him understand this? How can he finally understand what it would be like for me to lose him all over again, just when I got him back?
"Do you really think that I'm willing to play Russian Roulette with your life?" Ben snarls, grabbing you by the shoulders so tightly you're sure they'll be bruises but all you can do is look into his quickly darkening eyes. "Do you have any idea what it did to me to see you die AGAIN? To see him TOUCH YOU? To know that he HURT you?"
"We've already had this conversation Ben-"
"And we're going to fucking have it again!" His grip tightens. "I told you to stay behind me!"
The last time he'd touched you like this was the night of the premiere, when he told you that he didn't care about you, that he could never love you. The memory of that night lodges itself in the back of your throat, but you keep it down.
"And I told you that I wasn't going to do that!"
"Damn it y/n you can't-"
You pull yourself away from him. "No Ben. You can't tell me what to do. You don't get to control me. People have tried to control me all my damn life and when I first came with you I thought I was giving that up. But no, I just moved on and Vought took over. When I decided to live my own life, to stop being a supe, I was free! Finally! After forty years of bullshit I was finally free!"
Ben’s jaw is so tightly locked together you think you hear the grinding of his teeth. “So what are you saying? Are you saying that when you’re with me you feel trapped? Like I’m holding you fucking hostage?!”
“No.” You exhale heavily. "I understand that you love me. I understand that you want to protect me. But you need to understand that I love you too. That just as you're willing to lay down your life for me, I am willing to lay down my life for you. And if you want this to work between us, you need to understand that you don't control me. You're not my dad or my owner, you're the man I love. And until you realize that I am just as capable of protecting you as you are protecting me-"
"I know that." Ben seethes.
"What?"
"Do you really think that I don't see how strong you are?” You watch something flash in his eyes that isn't anger, the vulnerable look is back for a fleeting moment and it rocks you to your core. "I don’t want to control you! I’m not trying to. Have you thought that maybe after all this time I just wanted you to need me like I need you?"
His confession makes your heart stop. Does he really think that I don’t need him? That after all these years there’s no one else that I’ve needed more in my entire life?
“Ben.” You sigh while stretching out your hand to lay against his arm, but he flinches away. “ I do need you. You have no idea how much I need you, no idea what it did to me when I lost you even after everything that happened. I just don’t want you to treat me like I’m made of glass.”
“I don’t treat you like you’re-“ He begins to say.
“Yes. You do. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect me, but you have to understand that I want to protect you too.”
He huffs out a breath, shoulders tensed, arms crossed over his muscular chest. “I do understand that. I just hate it when you do that, that you push me out of the way. I hate when you get hurt.”
“And I hate when you get hurt." You bite the inside of your cheek. "You say that you were angry that Homelander hurt me, but did you stop to consider what it did to me to see him try to hurt you? Do you know what it did to me to see him touch you?”
Ben stands there for a minute glaring down at you, before his gaze begins to soften. “No.” He grumbles.
“Exactly.”
You both stand there for a minute eyeing one another, daring the other to break the silence.
This is ridiculous.
Finally Ben, sighs out a breath and jerks you forward against his chest. The hug would be bone crushing for anyone else, but not to you.
“You’re so fucking annoying.” He mutters into the top of your head, while his body curves around yours.
“I love you too asshole.” You huff, hugging him back just as tight.
“See they always work it out.” Legend shrugs at Butcher. “Takes them a while to get there. They made my job so much harder in the 70’s. Though I will say it’s a relief that they’re finally admitting they love each other. Way too much sexual tension before, gave me anxiety.”
Ben pulls back to look at your face with another loud sigh. He still looks a little angry, but not angry enough to start shouting again. His thumb strokes against your cheek. “Are you okay?”
You nod once leaning into his touch. “Are you?” You brush back some of his dark hair out of his face, looking for bruises but you don’t see any.
“Yeah.” He nods.
“If the two of you are done, we have bigger things to worry about-“ Butcher begins to say.
“We are and we do.” You interrupt looking away from Ben to stare at Butcher. “I need to borrow your car.”
“Why?”
“I need to go back to the city.”
“What?” Ben sputters releasing you from his grasp.
“And I think it would be better if I went alone-“ You continue slowly.
Honestly you did think that it would be better if you went alone, but you didn’t want to. You wanted Ben to come with you, the problem was Rosemary.
“Like hell I’m letting you go alone with that son of a bitch flying around!” Ben shouts, temper flaring again.
“Which is why I have to go.” You try to say it diplomatically, try to have him understand without having to explain it. But there’s really no way around it, around any of this.
“No.”
“Ben please c-"
“Don’t tell me to calm down again! I’m not being crazy. You’re not going after him!” His eyes blaze a brilliant green, as he crosses his hands over his chest.
“Ben-“
“Why can’t you listen to me for once?”
“BEN!” You shout, grabbing his face and holding his cheeks between your palms to catch his attention.
“What?” Ben’s eyes lock with yours.
“I’m not going to the city to go after Homelander.”
He pauses confused. “Then why are you-“
And you just can’t take it anymore. You can’t hold it in any longer, can’t think of a way to tell him without just ripping the bandaid off. Your eyes meet his, apologetic, determined, and just a little bit fearful.
“I’m going back into the city to get our daughter.”
A/N: I know I know, it's been a while and honestly I didn't mean to get hit by writer's block this bad 😂😭
But it kinda works out, because what better way to celebrate Father's Day than to tell Soldier Boy that he's a dad?
As always thank you so much for reading! There are big things coming! And thank so much for the love and support! If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303
@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs
@bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts
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#soldier boy x you#jensen ackles soldier boy#soldier boy#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy/ben#the boys amazon#the boys fanfic#soldier boy x y/n#jensen ackles#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy fic#hughie campbell#billy butcher#homelander#the boys#the boys series#the boys season 3#the boys s3#the boys tv#the boys hughie
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A while ago I was listening to Dara Horn's podcast relating to her book, People Love Dead Jews. Within this podcast she discussed the fact that Holocaust museums tend to center stories that highlight ways in which Jews were just like anyone else, putting secular Jews on a pedestal of sorts.
The podcast went on to make the point that we shouldn't have to be like them to be liked. A Jew in a kippah is just as worthy of being accepted as a Jew in a baseball cap, and to position one, the more assimilated one, as "better" is antisemitic.
This made me think of how movies and shows portray Jews, and I realized a similar pattern of idealizing assimilation is deeply prevalent.
There are two main ways Jews are portrayed in movies/shows that I've noticed that are problematic. (For a narrower scope I'll be discussing American media as I am more familiar with that than most other countries.)
The first kind of Jewish representation is the token Jew. This is the character that the viewer wouldn't even have known is Jewish had the show not casually mentioned them celebrating Hanukkah in passing. This is the character who is entirely the same as any other character. An example of this would be in Ginny and Georgia, where a few side characters are revealed to be Jewish. This reveal occurred only for the purpose of making a Hanukkah episode, and immediately one of the characters says the beginning words to most of our prayers, adding "bitch" at the end. This sort of absolutely blatant disrespect towards the words many of us wouldn't even speak fully in casual conversation is meant to indicate that it's okay to poke fun at our religion. (By the way, it isn't okay. Don't disrespect our religion, thanks.) (And no the actress wasn't Jewish.)
Then there's Ben Gross from Never Have I Ever, a similarly extremely assimilated Jewish character. Instead of making fun of Judaism, however, the show plays into Jewish stereotypes. Ben's dad is a wealthy influential lawyer who works with Hollywood. Come on, there's three in a row there. Ben himself is frequently made fun of for being very short (to an extent not befitting the actor's actual stature), and some of his mannerisms could be described as effeminate. All of these traits play into anti-Jewish stereotypes. The protagonist even says she wishes Ben was killed by Nazis and other than a scolding this isn't made to be the big deal that it is.
These sorts of characters are meant to show how Jews are "just like you!" and pokes cruel fun at the few remaining things that do occasionally set them apart. Yes, secular Jews exist, but the way these shows make fun of their Jewish identities is where the issue arises.
The second problematic representation is meant to make goyim feel good about being goyim. This is specifically done through how Judaism is portrayed in these movies.
A major example of this is the show Unorthodox, in which the plot centers a young girl trying to escape her very observant community. This show directly demonized the Jewish religion, making it appear inherently oppressive and twisted.
While some may argue that the show was merely trying to portray the social issues within the community, there are better ways to achieve this.
The book An Unorthodox Match takes on a similar task with a vastly different tone. The book centers a protagonist joining an equally observant community, but not for a moment does the book, author, or protagonist blame Judaism. The book is very clearly written by a Jew who loves Judaism, and yet it manages to highlight similar social issues to the show without blaming Judaism. In fact, Jewish traditions have a fair share of appreciation in the book!
This sort of media is meant to make the goyishe viewers be grateful they aren't part of those communities, but as a Jewish viewer I felt deeply uncomfortable with the positioning of religious Jews as a negative part of society. This media makes the characters seem like they have nothing at all in common with the goyim around them or the goyim watching the show. It's the polar opposite of the previous example.
The first example is showing Jews as "just like anyone else" until they aren't, while the second example portrays Jews as entirely other. Never have I seen an Orthodox Jewish character side by side with the non-Jewish characters in any other context than the Jewish character envying their non-Jewish peers.
Why is the choice either to be assimilated or othered? Why can we not have an observant Jewish character remind their friends that they can't hang out on Saturday, or maybe they bring their own kosher snacks? Maybe a Jewish character muttering a bracha over their food? Why not make being Jewish an important part of their character without making them self-loathe because of it?
Media almost only ever shows two extremes and neither of those extremes has a positive impact on the perception of Jews.
(There is also a pattern I've noticed with Jews and goyim being cast in Jewish roles and how that corresponds to the character, but that's probably another post for another time.)
#jumblr#jewish#judaism#jew#antisemitism#Antisemitism in media#long post#sorry for the mini essay haha
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and why would an angel rescue me from hell? good things do happen dean. not in my experience. i'm not here to perch on your shoulder. i was getting too close to the humans in my charge. you. to everything there is a season. you made an exception for me. you're different. for what's worth, i would give anything not to have you do this. i learned my lesson while i was away, dean. i serve heaven, i don't serve men and i certainly don't serve you. but you guys aren't supposed to be there, you're not in this story. yeah, well, we're making it up as we go. i'm hunted, i rebelled and i did it all, all of it, for you. so what i'm thelma and you're louise and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together? i need your help because you're the only one who'll help me. that's a pretty nice timing, cas. we had an appointment. what happened to you cas? you used to be human, or at least like one. but cas, you'll call right? if you get into real trouble? this is cas, guys. he has gone to the mat cut and bleeding for us so many freaking times, don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt at least? it sounds so simple when you say it like that, where were you when i needed to hear it? i was there, where were you? i'm doing this for you, dean. i'm doing this because of you. but we were family once, i would've died for you, i almost did a few times. i've lost lisa, i've lost ben and now i've lost sam. don't make me lose you too. cas, you child, why didn't you listen to me. you used to fight together, bestest of friends, actually. if you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time. the very touch of you corrupts. when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost. i'd rather have you, cursed or not. well, i'll go with you. i prayed to you cas, every night. cas, we're getting out of here, we're going home. i mean you kept saying you didn't think it would work, did you not trust me? cas, it's me. we need you, i need you. i won't hurt dean. cause you didn't trust me? you didn't trust me. please, man, i need you here. nobody wants him here more than i do. you gave us an order, castiel, and we gave you our trust. don't lose it over one man. you really believe we three will be enough? we always have been. his true weakness is revealed. you draped yourself with the flag of heaven but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. i'm glad you're here, man. how are you, dean? and then you'll kill the angel, castiel. now that one, that i suspect would hurt something awful. and when you turn, everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. everyone except me. i'm not gonna send lucifer into battle inside cas, what if he doesn't make it? it's not an it, sam. it's cas. but you're always there, you know? i could go with you. you mean too much to me, to everything. i'm gonna cure you of your human weakness, same way i cured my own. it's a gift, you keep those. you mean we? yes, dumbass, we. we lost everything and now you're gonna bring him back. we got cas back, that's a pretty damn big win. just don't get dead again. it's good to hear your voice. so this is goodbye? but i swear if he did something to her, if she's- then you're dead to me. either get on board or walk away. i don't know what's god and what isn't, and it's driving me crazy. dean, you asked what about all of this is real. we are. you used trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt, now you can barely look at me. i think it's time for me to move on. you didn't deserve that. since when do we get what we deserve? maybe if you didn't just up and leave us. i left but you didn't stop me. i should've stopped you. you're my best friend but i just let you go. and i forgive you, of course i forgive you. i'm sorry it took me so long, i'm sorry it took me til now to say it. you did it cas. okay, cas, i need to say something. you don't have to say it, i heard your prayer. well, here's to being right. you know what every other version of you did after gripping him tight and raising him from perdition? they did what they were told, but not you.
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Lu Guang's love language: Words of attack
The English subtitles for Link Click, from what I can see, universally translate Lu Guang's various insults towards Cheng Xiaoshi as "idiot." There may be a "moron" and "fool" or two in there, but I will be honest when I say that I don't really want to re-watch the entirety of seasons one and two to check. However, there is a little bit of subtlety in the exact words for "idiot" that Lu Guang uses.
Mandarin has… a lot of words for "idiot." Ones I can think off of the top of my head are 傻瓜,白痴,笨蛋, 蠢货,biao (an insult in the Muping dialect which I don't know the character for),二百五,傻子,无脑,傻逼. For your reference, those are just the insults that specifically mean "stupid." If we get into other insults, we'd be here all day.
So the conclusion is that insults in Mandarin are an art. And man, does Lu Guang master said art perfectly. The insult he most commonly uses for Cheng Xiaoshi is 弱智 (ruozhi, weak intellect) which is one that allude to disability (please take this with a grain of salt! I really, truly don't know anything about the disabled Chinese community, so it's possible that it doesn't really carry the same meaning). This particular insult is interesting, because it's a really hard-hitting insult. Like, if I call someone 笨蛋 (bendan, stupid egg), it's a pretty weak, sometimes even affectionate term, frequently used by children. But ruozhi is an actual, legit insult, that someone will punch you for calling them. It's also something I would categorize as kind of an adolescent-young adult insult -- you would hear older folk using 蠢货 or 白痴 more often for "idiot." But Lu Guang calls Cheng Xiaoshi that like it's his second name.
The way Lu Guang uses the term, it takes on its own affectionate feel to it. He uses it whenever Cheng Xiaoshi's done or said something he's not happy with, even when the action isn't necessarily [being an idiot]. It's got a similar feel as a resigned sigh, or perhaps frustration.
But there are times when Lu Guang uses an insult that isn't ruozhi. During episode five of season one, while he's comforting Cheng Xiaoshi after a dive, he calls him 傻瓜 (shagua, stupid melon). Shagua is probably one of the most gentle of all the "idiot" insults, tied with maybe bendan. It's frequently used as a term of endearment, especially between couples (make of that what you will). The "stupid" in shagua also means a slightly different type of stupid than the one in bendan. If I had to define it, sha is stupid in terms of wisdom, and ben is stupid in terms of intelligence, in D&D terms. Like, if I failed my physics exam, I would be more ben. If I didn't read through my insurance policy before requesting my medication and had to cough up forty dollars for them (totally didn't happen just a few hours ago), I would be more sha. So Lu Guang, here, is calling Cheng Xiaoshi something like "unwise" or "naive," which is very fitting for the situation.
Interestingly, during Cheng Xiaoshi's flashback to Lu Guang in episode one of season two, Lu Guang cycles through three different insults: baichi, chunhuo, and bendan. Of these, baichi and bendan are within the "yeah couples call each other this sometimes" group, and chunhuo is a more genuine, demeaning insult. The fact that three of the nine different Lu Guang dialogues Cheng Xiaoshi flashes back to include Lu Guang calling him an idiot in various affectionate ways is pretty funny, I won't lie to you. There's also that a vast majority of the remembered sentences, even the ones that don't explicitly say "idiot," are basically Lu Guang clowning on Cheng Xiaoshi. As a side note, it's interesting that the last thing memory-Lu Guang says is bendan -- the softest, most childish insult, and the one with the most explicitly affectionate connotations in general use.
Lastly, in the twelfth episode of the second season, when the two are in the tunnels fighting and Cheng Xiaoshi tells Lu Guang to not push himself, Lu Guang responds with "baichi, you're not doing much better than me." In this case, he switches from ruozhi to baichi likely because it's a more serious situation, where the almost joking ruozhi wouldn't have been as appropriate. The stupid in baichi (the chi) is more of a "dim-witted" connotation, akin to calling someone slow or head-in-the-clouds.
In conclusion, Lu Guang's insults for Cheng Xiaoshi are:
弱智 (ruozhi) -- basically his nickname for Cheng Xiaoshi at this point, commonly used when he's annoyed with him or wants to make fun of him. Appears to be the default when Cheng Xiaoshi does something he doesn't like in a dive. 白痴 (baichi) -- the most commonly used alternative to ruozhi, I can't see any patterns of its usage. Seems to be the one he defaults to when the mood isn't right for ruozhi. 蠢货 (chunhuo) -- used only once (that I could see) in a sentence without context, so… /shrug 傻瓜 (shagua) -- a rarer insult, seems to be the one he uses when he's trying to comfort Cheng Xiaoshi but still needs to insult him. 笨蛋 (bendan) -- a more teasing, casual insult, one he flings out when he just wants to insult Cheng Xiaoshi in a non-serious situation.
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