#and i love that look between maeve and butcher

[supemaeve]

[bohemianblasphemy]

Your post of finding out butcher slept with Maeve was SO GOOD.

If you’re feeling up to it could you write another angsty piece where he tells the team and reader decides she cared way more about him than he cares for her and emotionally closes herself off a bit. Butcher notices and fucks her as an apology but she can’t stop thinking that he is only with her for convenience so when he’s close she fakes an orgasm so they won’t have to talk about her feelings.

He sort of believes her and they get pulled away for a mission or meeting and he’s watching her and realizes she faked it. Maybe he’s angry with himself for not noticing before/not making her feel good so he finds her after and truly apologizes and they have passionate loving sex instead of the usual rough fuck?

If you don’t feel like it I totally understand it’s just eating away at my brain I want this lunatic to love me so badd

no bc i love this as well!

i’m so sorry this too so long my brain is literally cooked atm ✨i hope i did the prompt justice

“alright you lot, let’s get this shit on the road.”

Butcher leaned back on his chair, observing everyone that surrounded him for his presentation- His plan to infiltrate Vought Tower.

“Now, i gotta tell ya… getting this info took a bit of, let’s say gettin’ down and dirty with the enemy, the enemy being Queen Maeve.” He chuckled, gauging the reactions of the group. Some chuckled, some remained neutral… you on the other hand, had to swallow the hard lump that formed in your throat.

Trying to brush it off, you smiled and avoided his eyes- but all you could feel was the deep pain of your heart cracking open, caring more than you wanted to admit.

Butcher looked over at you, seeing the sullen expression on your face when you tried to mask how you really felt- but he kept going, talking about his night with Maeve and the information he obtained.

The casual way he talked about it cut you deeper, feeling as if whatever you both had between you was nothing. Nights that you spent with each other between the sheets, the lingering touches and glances in the office- all those moments to find that he had screwed someone else.

His words echoed in your ears, you tried to withdraw from any and all feelings toward him.

Any interactions with him were short- no eye contact, no lingering glances; trying to lessen the pain of what’s transpired.

Butcher knew that you weren’t happy, the distance that you had created and the walls you had built around yourself gnawed at his heart. Your avoidance of him and focus on the mission ahead of the group didn’t help the regret and guilt that built inside his chest, but he suppressed it- he didn’t want to feel it.

It took so much strength to not lay your heart out on the table, to scream and cry at him for what he did- not to talk about your true feelings.

With regret weighing heavily on his mind, he showed up at your apartment one night, saying nothing, only drawing you close for a kiss.

The heat of the moment blurred the resentment you felt towards him temporarily, and toward the bedroom you both went.

No time was wasted, clothes falling to the floor as butcher pushed you back onto your mattress and crawled on top of you- desperately wanting to feel you.

As your passions escalated, billy rocked himself into you and his face buried in your neck- that internal turmoil returned in full force within you.

Was he really here for you? or was this just a pity fuck? Were you just a convenient choice for him?

Your mind was filled with so many thoughts that you couldn’t concentrate on his movements. In a moment of desperation, you quickened your breath and pretended to moan, arching your body against his to make it as realistic as possible as you faked your orgasm.

He sunk his teeth into your neck as he came, grunts filling your ear. He loved the way that you sounded, not realising that it wasn’t the reality for you. He pulled away from your neck, pressing a kiss to your lips.

Looking at you he could see it in your face that something wasnt right, but before he could say anything his phone started to ring.

Answering the call, Hughie spoke on the other end talking of an emergency meeting, something that needed attention as soon as possible. Butcher hung up the phone, quickly putting on his clothes.

“Duty calls love, better get dressed.”

You didn’t say anything, just mirrored Billy’s movements as you both got ready to head out the door- en route back to Headquarters.

As you both exited the building, he turned to you.

“We can go in my car-“

“I’m taking mine alone, i’ll meet you there.” you looked at him briefly before turning the corner to your car- hopping into the drivers seat.

As you sat there, could see butchers figure in the rear view window, tears prickling in your waterline as you turned the car on.

Butcher stood there in silence, watching the engine sputter to life and tires squeal down the road. His nostrils flared as huffed in frustration as he stomped toward his car, trying to work out what was going on. Yeah, he knew they were pissed about the Queen Maeve situation- but there was something else.

After arriving at the Flatiron Building, everyone had gathered in their shared space listening to Hughie speak, but Butcher couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you as you sat across the room next to Kimiko.

His brows furrowed in contemplation, the cogs in his brain replaying your earlier encounter as he looked at your from afar.

The realisation hitting him like a sledgehammer that you didn’t truly enjoy yourself, feigning your pleasure- cracking the code of your facade.

Hughie went on for what seemed like hours before you were dismissed, you couldn’t have left the office fast enough.

Being met with the cool air you walked toward your car, but not before Butcher stopped you in your tracks.

“Oi, we need to talk.” He said softly, his arms crossed.

You sighed, pushing him out of the way to open the car door.

“No we don’t, i’m going home.” You weren’t giving in, not now.

“Just fuckin’ listen to me will ya?” he raised his voice slightly, putting his palm on the door to stop you from leaving.

“Not here Butcher, I can’t do this-“

“I-I didn’t mean to treat you like that. I thought that the Maeve shit didn’t effect ya the way it did and i just-“

“I’m not going to be a choice for you Butcher. i deserve better than that and you know it.”

“That’s not it, Love. the way i feel for ya ain’t like that.”

“Then why didn’t you notice me, Billy? The way I felt when you told me- no, the entire group that you screwed Maeve as if it was just a walk in the fucking park?”

Butcher was speechless, looking at you as his face filled up with even more regret- knowing he’d hurt you even more than he could imagine. He couldn’t speak, only look at you.

“That’s what i thought.”

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you choked on your words. You threw open the car door, starting the ignition as quick as possible to drive off.

Watching you drive off from the sidewalk, Butchers fists had begun to white knuckle. He was angry at himself, knowing that he fucked up and hurt one of the only people that he cared for.

He knew that he couldn’t just let you walk away like that, he wasn’t giving up as he made his way to your apartment.

His hand rapped at your wooden door, his heart pounding as he waiting for you to answer- hoping you would open the door for him.

You were on the other side, looking at him through the peephole. The internal debate on whether or not to open the door raged on within you-

The door opened just a crack, just enough to see butchers sullen face.

“Cmon love, let me in. You know we gotta sort this.”

You looked at him for a few moments and opened the door as he walked in, silently standing at the kitchen counter. Wether or not you were going to regret letting him in was gonna be

You stood a few feet awake from him, looking at him so he could speak. The silence in that moment was deafening.

“I’m sorry.” he piped up, sighing as he rubbed his face in his hands. “I thought you’d understand, Maeve and myself was just an intel exchange- and today when i came over i didn’t look after you properly, i know that ya faked it.”

“Billy it doesn’t matter…” you murmured, wiping a tear away.

“No it fuckin’ does matter, because whether ya like it or not i care for ya, more than ya know.”

He walked over to you, putting your face in his hands.

“I should have taken care of you, the way that you deserve. I fucked it up, love.”

You looked at him, seeing the sencerity in his eyes as he wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

“I-i just don’t want to be your backup… the other choice.”

“There is no other choice, sweetheart. the only one is you.” He nearly choked on his words, but stalled the lump in his throat.

“I will do anything, absolutely anything to get you to trust me again… let me love you, the way you deserve to. Let me make it right, please…”

The look in his eyes was full of sincerity, he wanted you to feel his love - His hands wrapped around your torso, pulling you into his chest.

Your eyes met his as the turmoil that boiled within you faded.

“Then show me.” your voice barely above a whisper.

That was all he needed, placing his palm on the back of your neck and pulling you in for a searing kiss and backing you up towards the wall.

It was unlike any other kiss you had shared with him- not half hearted, it was raw and real.

Quickly shedding yourself and him of all clothes, he carried you toward the bedroom- placing you gently onto the soft mattress.

He wanted to take his time with you, savouring how you felt and the way you tasted as his lips travelled between your thighs. “God i would spend eternity here… tasting your sweet pussy.” Licking a stripe up you, relishing in the taste of your essence and the moans that bounced off the walls as he continued his actions against you, not stopping until you came on his mouth.

Panting and shaking with desire you pulled him up from between your thighs and in for a kiss, tasting your arousal on his lips and tongue.

“Billy, please… i need you.” you breathed, wrapping your thighs around him. He didn’t need to be asked twice, lining himself up with you.

“God love, i can’t wait to feel you, to make you feel good. You are everything, my everything…” he praised you, wanting you to feel how he felt about you.

His cock sunk deliciously into your cunt, thrusting ever so gently and deeply to feel you entirely. The sound of slapping skin mixed with the pair of you panting and groaning from satisfaction.

Your hands travelled to his hair, pulling on it and hearing the soft groans fall from his lips, causing him to thrust faster into you. “Ah.. fuck…” he grumbled, sinking his teeth into your collarbone as he continued his actions against you- making you yelp as the pleasure and pain of his bite sent jolts through you, the knot in your stomach starting to unravel as you reached the edge of your orgasm.

“Billy, i’m go-gonna…” you moaned, biting down on his shoulder- earning a strained groan of satisfaction from him.

“Let go f’me love… please.” he was almost there, but needed you to be satisfied before he could.

Your thighs shook around his waist, the pulsating rapture flowing through you as you called his name, your fingers pulling at his dark hair as you came.

He shuddered as you grabbed onto him, his cock pulsating as hot cum coated your walls. Heavy breaths filled your ears as he came down from his high, bringing his head to face you.

“So beautiful, all mine…” he whispered, looking down at you and smiling at how you looked in your after glow. You smiled softly back, your fingers lingering along his beard.

“I’m gonna make you feel my love, Sweetheart. I love ya…” he whispered, knowing that he had a lot to show for- to prove to you how much you mean to him.

[zepskies]

And So It Goes - Part 20

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

Summary: As Madelyn Stillwell’s personal assistant, Helena Flores finds herself caught between protecting her job, and more importantly her life—or helping Billy Butcher bring down the supe who killed her best friend, Becca.

AN: We’re almost to the end!

Word Count: 5,000

Tags/Warnings: Angst, peril, love triangle, a final showdown, character death, and a goodbye…

ASIG Series Masterlist

20: Father & Son

We’re probably gonna die, Helena thought, as M.M. pulled their off to a shaded side street behind Vought Tower.

Kimiko and Frenchie soon split off to get down to the lab, after Helena gave them precise directions on the best way to get there. While Hughie went to the Security control room to try and evacuate the building, Helena went with M.M. and Annie up several floors to find Butcher and Soldier Boy.

Once they got up to the upper floors, they came across a few stray Vought employees that were hastily making for the stairwell. When M.M. questioned where they were going in such a hurry, one of them answered, “Homelander’s about to fight Soldier Boy.”

Helena, M.M., and Annie continued at a faster clip down the hall, where they were able to hear familiar voices. M.M. slowed them to a stop in front of an office door, drawing his gun. Annie stepped in front of them protectively.

When she broke into the room, she raised a glowing hand. She soon dimmed it when she realized what was happening. Even M.M. stopped short, but Helena pushed through them both as her mouth fell open.

“Ryan!” she gasped.

He was with Homelander at the far end of the room. They, along with Butcher, Maeve, and Soldier Boy turned their heads at the intrusion. It was three on two, but Homelander had a loose and familial hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Ryan, a—are you okay?” Helena asked. She tried to step forward, but M.M. held her back. She glanced at him in annoyance, but he raised his brows at her.

She realized then he was just trying to protect her from making a potentially dangerous move forward, even though he was probably still angry at her. She was grateful, but still worried when she met Ryan’s blue eyes.

“I’m fine,” Ryan answered, though his voice had a slight shake to it. He seemed happy to see her (as happy as he could be in a moment like this), but Homelander’s hand kept the boy from taking a step forward. Helena softened, her heart aching. Homelander must have found him…and taken him.

She glanced at Butcher next. He was eyeing her in what the bloody hell are you doing here sort of way. She gave him a look he ought to know well. 

For you, you idiot. But her focus shifted back to Ryan.

Without Helena realizing, Ben’s gaze had drawn to her—at her panic-stricken face when she saw the boy with Homelander. Now that he knew who Ryan was, it made Ben look at her harder. She’d known what she was doing when she kept that information to herself, about her best friend’s son. His grandson. But Ben also begrudgingly understood why she kept that secret.

She was an idiot to come here though. His mouth firmed in a line when, unbidden, something she’d told him filtered back through his mind, on that first late night in her home.

“Why’re you up, anyway?” Ben asked.

“Well, I could blame it on the pain,” she replied, after downing two pills with her water. “But um…I keep replaying yesterday in my head, over and over like a bad movie. It always stops at the part where I look up at Homelander’s psychotic fucking eyes, and I just…I knew.”

Helena shook her head. Ben’s lips tugged downward.

“Knew what?” he asked.

“I’m officially on his hit list now,” she said. 

And the way she couldn’t help but look at Homelander in fear, like the supe was some kind of monster… Ben couldn’t help thinking (deep down), would she say the same of him?

“Don’t you see?” Homelander said. Once again, he commanded the attention in the room, even though it was Ben he was talking to, as if all the others didn’t matter. They were just specks in the realm of his existence.

Homelander smiled. “You have a family. You have him, and you have me.”

He nodded at Ryan, his hand tightening a fraction on the boy’s shoulder. Ben saw the kid tense up a little. Ryan’s eyes shifted from Homelander behind him, to Ben. And then beyond him, to Helena, and even Butcher. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to be, and Ben saw it.

Deep down, he could relate.

He stared back at Homelander, this thing that should’ve been his son. Ben’s lips quirked, and he stepped forward.

“It’s a shame that I’ve missed so much,” he said, in the face of Homelander’s burgeoning tears. “I wish I could’ve raised you, and taught you, father to son.”

“That’s okay,” Homelander whispered. “We’re not alone anymore. We have each other.”

Ben’s smile became more dry. He grasped Homelander’s shoulder. “Maybe if I’d raised you, I could’ve made you better. And not some weak, sniveling pussy, starved for attention. But there’s no fixing that now.”

“Weak?” Homelander echoed. His expression had dropped from tearfully hopeful, to shocked, and the beginnings of anger. “I’m you.”

“I know,” Ben said, hating the way his lips actually trembled at the admission. “You’re a fucking disappointment.”

He grabbed at Homelander’s face, tilting his laser eyes back. Butcher and Maeve came up on either side to secure the supe, but Ryan protested.

“Ryan, get out of the building, now!” Butcher told him. Still, the kid pushed back to try and help his father.

Helena broke away from M.M. and Annie in their shock to go to Ryan, but M.M. reacted at the last second to grab her arm.

“Let go of me!” she whipped back. M.M. stared down at her incredulously. She was human, the same as him, but unlike him, she wasn’t a fighter. She didn’t even have a weapon on her, let alone one that would work on Homelander or Soldier Boy.

“Are you crazy?!” he asked.

“Are you?” she retorted. She twisted out of his grip and managed to slip away from him.

By the time Helena turned back to the scene before them, Ryan’s eyes were glowing red.

He shot a laser beam right at Soldier Boy, knocking him through the far wall and onto his ass. When he got up, shaking rubble from his shoulders, he clearly wasn’t happy about it.

Fortunately, Helena reached Ryan just as Ben took a few intimidating steps forward.

“Ben, stop!” she shouted.

And it actually halted the supe’s steps. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pulled into a frown. His gait was tense, but she held her ground with her arms wrapped around Ryan. The boy’s fear made his eyes dim back to their normal hue as he glanced up at her, and then back at Soldier Boy. She was able to slowly tug Ryan behind her. 

“Please, don’t hurt him,” she said. Her tone was pleading, a hint unsteady. If he really wanted to get to Ryan, he’d have to go through her first.

Ben knew it…and found himself conflicted.

Meanwhile, Butcher had been mostly distracted with trying to help Maeve (and now Annie) keep Homelander held down. Now, he realized just how much this was all about to cost him. His eyes widened when he saw Soldier Boy’s threatening stance.

“Helena!” he called out, just before Homelander broke free. He punched Butcher down with a crack against his face. V24 was coursing through the man’s veins, allowing him to take the hit and deliver one right back.

“Scorched earth, eh William?” Homelander taunted. His red-hot gaze glanced in Helena’s direction. Butcher sneered and landed a blow right between the supe’s eyes.

Helena and Ben shared one last look.

Finally, he relented. He turned away with a surly frown, jumping back into the fray with Homelander. That was his real target, and she was grateful, blowing out a relieved breath before she turned back to face Ryan.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked.

She set her hands on his shoulders. “That’s my line, bud. Come on, let’s go.”

He resisted when she tried to pull him away from the warzone happening far too close for comfort, in an office that was not meant to contain a whole five-on-one super battle.

“No!” Ryan refused to move, shirking her grasp. “Homelander…he’s my dad. He cares about me.”

Helena let out a shaky breath. She laid more gentle hands on his arms.

“Ryan, he’s using you,” she said. “Whatever he told you, maybe he believed it…but I doubt he’s truly capable of caring about anyone but himself.”

“No, that’s…that’s not true,” Ryan shook his head in protest. When he pulled away from her, she tried to hold onto him a bit tighter so he wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire of the battle. M.M. saw them both and was trying to get around the danger zone himself to help them, but Ryan wasn’t helping Helena at all.

In fact, he broke away from her with such strength, he actually pushed her to the ground. She gasped at the impact when she fell. Not just at the shock of it, but at the pain; it disrupted her still broken ribs…which she’d ironically gotten when Homelander shoved her into a wall back at Herogasm.

Fuck, she sucked in a pained breath. She also saw the shock and dismay cross Ryan’s face. He hadn’t meant to push her that hard, to hurt her. She knew it when she saw that look.

She held up a hand to him, “It’s okay. I’m okay—”

 But in his guilt, Ryan backed away from her. He bolted out of the enclosed office and towards the rest of the fight that had finally moved into the other room.

“Ryan!” Helena called, even as he was escaping her. With difficulty, she got back onto her feet.

She was startled half out of her skin when Ben was flung into a nearby wall, making her scream and duck for cover as debris and office supplies exploded as a result. She took another painful spill across the floor. And rolling out of her inside pocket of her jacket came a small, green vial of V24.

Her eyes zeroed in, just before her hand closed around it. She dragged herself off the floor and back onto her feet, and then towards Ben, who was growling and shaking the dust off. He was prepared to head back into the fray, where the rest of them were still fighting Homelander. Ryan was hovering at the edge, scared and worried, no matter who got punched or tossed.

That’s it, Helena thought. Fuck it all.

“Ben,” she said raggedly, earning his attention. “Can you do me a favor?”

She went to him and offered him the tail end of a syringe she’d been storing in her other pocket. It was a miracle that it hadn’t broken in her tumbles.

 “Out of the fucking way,” he barked, after he eyed her in irritation. Clearly, I’m busy, his face suggested.

She took one of the biggest chances of her life and grabbed his arm.

“Please! I need your help,” she said.

He looked down at her through furrowed brows, asking a silent question with his eyes. Why me?

Her hand was shaking. She really just couldn’t bring herself to inject her body full of poison…but she had to.  

“I don’t want to be anyone’s weakness. I don’t want to be collateral damage,” she said. “But more than anything, I’m sick of being afraid.”

She grabbed his hand and put both the vial and the syringe in it.

“Goddamn it, Ben, just do it!” she said, through tears.

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed her arm, found a vein, and did his best to inject her correctly. But when that vile shit hit her system, she nearly collapsed.

“Fuck,” he muttered, but he kept her upright. She shuddered, her eyes briefly closing. All the while, Ben’s grip remained steady. Inside, however, he didn’t know why the fuck he was doing this. 

It felt too close to being soft. But maybe it was because a part of him, deep down (a part he didn’t want to think about), wanted to prove he was still some kind of hero. Or maybe, it was because he felt like he was repaying a debt.  

When the pain subsided, her body hummed with chemical electricity in her blood. She breathed through it and nodded.

“Thank you,” she said. After a short hesitation, his hands fell from her. Ben responded with a nod.

He turned on his heel and was about to head back into the battle fray, but was hit with a star bolt. It pushed him back a few feet but didn’t bring him down. His head snapped up with annoyance. Helena looked over with wider eyes to find Annie, now joined by Frenchie, Kimiko, Hughie. M.M. sideswiped Helena, forcing her out of the way while Kimiko and Annie surged forward against Ben.

With the temporary V coursing through her veins, Helena was finally strong enough to push back against M.M., making him stumble. He stared back at you in surprise.

“Are you on V?” he asked. “Did you just shoot the fuck up?”

Her lips pursed. She couldn’t deny it, nor would she.

“You know it’s fatal after a few doses, right?” he said tersely.

Helena’s eyes widened. She looked over at Butcher, who was still fighting Homelander and taking hot lasers to the arm, blocking his face.

She didn’t know how many doses he’d taken, but she could hazard a guess.

Too many.

Ben startled them both by tossing both Annie and Kimiko at opposite ends of the room. He stalked forward, ignoring her and M.M. in order to get to Homelander.

M.M. tensed up, like he was about to follow the supe, but Helena grabbed his arm.

“Look, I know what he did to you, but let him at least end Homelander, for fuck’s sake!” she snapped.

“Do you want the entire building to blow the fuck up?” he shot back. He gestured over at Ryan, still huddled against the wall. “Try to get him out of here first!”

On that, they could agree.

Just then, Homelander tore through the room with his laser vision, regardless of who or what he hit. When the beam swept across the middle and went for Ryan on the other side, Helena ran to him and had them both dive for the ground. She protected his head.

Meanwhile, Butcher grabbed the supe by the cape in attempt to bring him to heel. Ben came up on the other side and pinned him down to the ground while Homelander fought both of their holds.

Ryan turned onto his side after Helena raised off of him. He looked up at her with wide eyes, but there was guilt behind them, lingering from when he pushed her.

“Why…why are you and Butcher here? Why do you hate my dad?” he asked. His voice was so small and upset, it made tears well up in Helena’s eyes.

“I’m here because I care about you,” she said. “Homelander’s not your father. Not really. He’s the reason you and your mom were alone for all those years. He’s the reason she couldn’t be with Billy, and why you had to grow up alone. Your mom was protecting you from him.”

Tears stung at Ryan’s eyes as well. He bit his lip and shook his head; he didn’t want to believe her.

“You’re wrong,” he said tremulously. “He’s…he’s not mad at me for what happened to Mom. For…”

Helena had to try and swallow past a tight ball of emotion. She was about to respond when an iron grip tangled in her hair and grabbed her up. A shriek tore from her throat as she was yanked to her feet and almost off the ground. Her hands flew up to claw at Homelander’s.

Ryan’s eyes flew wide again. He scrambled onto his feet as well and faced his father.

“Stop!” he pleaded. “Don’t hurt her!”

Homelander tilted his head at his son, with a grim set to his face. “Don’t you see? They’re all cockroaches. They’re mud people. Ryan, they’re not like us.”

V24 didn’t take away her fear, Helena realized. It just magnified what was already inside. 

“Leave him alone, you son of a bitch,” she hissed, regardless of the terrified, angry tears burning in her eyes.

Across the room, M.M. stared down at Butcher angrily. It was hard to maintain it when the other man had just saved him from getting pounded with Soldier Boy’s shield, but M.M. had a high threshold of “Fuck you, Butcher” leftover. 

Despite that, M.M. helped Butcher pick himself up from the rubble. Then he noticed something else. 

“Butcher,” M.M. said sharply. Butcher followed his gaze and landed on Homelander; he saw the supe’s killer grip on Helena’s hair, with Ryan pleading at him to stop.

Butcher’s eyes widened. He called her name from across the room. 

Slowly Homelander’s head turned. 

He smirked. The kind of manic smile that said he’d get to have his revenge twice. 

His eyes took on a red, glowing hue.

But a violet haze surged from Helena’s hands, not only disrupting Homelander’s concentration, but forcing him to let go of her entirely. It was a forcefield that threw him back across the far wall.

She stumbled to her feet and would’ve fallen if Ryan hadn’t reached out to steady her. She gave him a grateful smile, and she let her arm fall around his shoulders.

Butcher was shocked, relieved, and angry all at once. 

When and how the fuck did she take Temp V?

Despite the look of surprise on most faces in the room, Ben was the only one who remained stoic.

Homelander peeled himself from the wall with a growl. He stalked forward, but he was met with Butcher stepping in front of Helena and Ryan. 

Butcher blocked the first punch Homelander threw. He just couldn’t avoid the second brutal one that cracked against his nose. Homelander twisted his arm and wrenched, until Butcher was forced almost to his knees.

“You may be hopped up, but you’re just a try-hard, dick-sucking groupie,” Homelander taunted. “Real power is—”

Ryan stumbled forward and pushed Homelander hard in the chest, enough to make the other man’s grip on Butcher loosen. Ryan moved to stand in front of Butcher and Helena.   

“Son?” Homelander asked, with wide, confused eyes. 

All the commotion in the room paused. Even the fight against Soldier Boy came to a standstill, including Maeve, who was sporting one eye and a bloody hole where the other used to be (courtesy of Homelander). She propped herself up against the wall and watched Homelander intently.

Soldier Boy watched as well. If he lit up the nuclear power in his chest now, he could make Homelander powerless. But…it would be hard to control it in here. He glanced at Butcher and Helena kneeling on the ground. She’d come to his side and was propping him up, just as his arm was around her protectively. 

I don’t want to be collateral damage, she’d said.

Meanwhile, Ryan was scared with tears in his eyes, but he held his ground against his father with determination. 

“Stop,” he said. “Please just stop.”

Homelander couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His own son was protecting the one man he hated most in this world. 

“But…why?” he asked incredulously. “I’m your blood. I’m…I’m your family.”

Butcher grabbed Ryan’s jacket.

“Ryan, don’t,” he said. Ryan looked over his shoulder at them, at Butcher.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Butcher didn’t entirely know what that meant, but he couldn’t help but marvel when the kid turned back to face his father.  

“I understand you, Ryan. Better than anyone,” Homelander said earnestly. He probably even believed that.  

Ryan lip wobbled with emotion. He hadn’t realized it, not until Homelander grabbed Helena and threatened to kill one of the only people who’d ever been nice to him. Ryan saw it when Homelander had turned to Butcher next, with something evil in his eyes.

“You’ve hurt everyone I care about,” Ryan realized, with a small gasp of a sob. “You…you hurt my mom.”

Homelander’s eyes soon became glassy, angry, and insane.

“I think you took the fucking cake on that one, sport,” he retorted. 

Ryan flinched. Tears poured down Ryan’s cheeks as that blow cut into him. 

But he instinctively let those emotions fuel him. He hovered above the ground in flight, almost eye-level with Homelander. His eyes glowed red. 

Homelander smirked through unshed tears. He supposed it was fine; he’d been prepared to rule through fear before. 

You don’t need anyone, that voice deep inside whispered. Not even Ryan.

And here, Ben finally saw his chance. 

“Hey, Real Power,” he snarked, just before he grabbed Homelander by the edge of his cape and headbutted him. After throwing him off balance, Ben kicked him into a glass coffee table, making it shatter. He continued forward and grabbed Homelander by his collar next. 

Then he began to charge up that nuclear power in his chest. Homelander grabbed his arm and tried to twist out of his grip, but Ben held on in determination. Maeve helped him by kicking out Homelander’s knee. She and Ben briefly shared a grim look. 

“We could’ve taken on the whole world,” Homelander gritted out. Ben smirked. 

“Maybe. But I never took well to sharing the spotlight,” he said, and threw another punch that snapped Homelander’s head back. All the while, his chest continued to illuminate and become impossibly hot. 

If Ben let go of his power now, he could end Homelander for good. But if he did, he’d probably level the whole block. He glanced over Homelander’s shoulder. Butcher held both Helena and Ryan, waiting to protect them from the impending blast. 

Butcher kept Helena close with an arm around her waist. Deep down, Ben reluctantly felt a twinge of jealousy. Until Helena peeked up fearfully and found Ben’s eyes. Even with the power V24 gave her, he doubted it would do them much good. 

With that brief distraction, Homelander broke free with an angry shout.

“Goddamn it,” Ben growled. 

While the other supe tried to fly backwards to save himself, Ben rushed forward and leapt, grabbing the supe in mid-air. They both crashed through the far window out of the Tower.

Ben blasted him with everything he had.

Homelander tried to fight off his hanger on, but the power behind the blast disrupted his own, including his flight.

And from that great height, Soldier Boy and Homelander fell. Whatever wasn’t contained by the two of them grappling hit the rest of the Tower behind them.

Inside the building, Helena managed to draw up a forcefield that protected them all from the initial blast. Whatever she couldn’t cover was eaten away, leaving a giant hole in the side of the building. Butcher looked up at the violet haze, then at her with consternation.

“Oh, don’t even,” she snapped at him. “One dose of Temp V won’t kill me.”

His lips pursed, but he still helped her up to her feet, along with Ryan. Helena checked the boy to make sure he was all right. She brought her hands up to his cheeks and held his face.

“You okay?” she asked.

Ryan smiled a little a nodded. “Yeah.” 

She smiled back. “Good.”

Butcher’s lips twitched. He laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, but he also moved a hand down to the small of Helena’s back, earning her attention. For a moment, their eyes met. That look was charged with unspoken meaning, cutting through things like, “I told you so,” and “What were you thinking?” And, “You ass.”

But the common denominator of it all was this.

Butcher tugged her close for a hard kiss. His beard was rough, his grip was tight, but his lips were tender. She responded in kind, gripping the shorter hair at the back of his head and matching his passion with her own.

He pulled away after a moment, meeting her eyes with a silent request. She held his cheek, and she nodded. Later they would hash the rest of this out, but for now, this was enough.

Butcher then turned to Ryan and took a knee in front of him.

“You don’t hate me anymore?” Ryan asked, in a small voice.

Butcher sighed, wiping a hand over his tired face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “for what I said last time. What happened to Becca, to your mum…it ain’t your fault, son.”

Ryan’s eyes glistened with tears. He sniffed, and Butcher squeezed his shoulder. 

“Look, kid. I’m not a good man. Christ, you’re already a better one than me. But, as long as you want me around…I’m here for ya.”

Ryan hugged him. Butcher was surprised by it at first, but slowly, he let himself hug Ryan back.

Helena teared up and laid a gentle hand on Butcher’s back. Hughie even came up on her left to nudge her shoulder. She smiled and patted his arm back. The others, though battered, bruised, and in some cases bloody, had gotten back on their feet. 

“Butcher, we gotta go,” M.M. reminded him. “Homelander and Soldier Boy damn dear exploded the block down there.”

Homelander’s crash landing had created a crater inside the ground outside of Vought Tower. Coils of smoke came off of his body, as most of his uniform was burnt off, along with a good part of his neck and torso. 

Butcher stood over him, creating a shadow that Homelander couldn’t escape. Homelander opened his eyes wide, as if to laser him, but nothing came out. 

His eyes widened in shock this time. “What the fuck…” 

He crawled out of the crater, his uniform in tatters. He managed to stumble to his feet and throw a punch at Butcher, who easily dodged. 

The blast had done its job. Homelander was a powerless mess. That realization dawned on the man, and soon had him frothing at the mouth in disbelief. Butcher pulled out a gun from his belt, a formerly useless gun, and shot Homelander in the head. Right between the eyes. 

Homelander’s body fell to the ground, just as Helena came out of the building with Ryan. With a gasp, she shielded the boy’s eyes.

“Don’t look,” she told him. Ryan allowed himself to bury his face against her chest, biting his lip as a few tears escaped and soaked into her shirt.  

Grace Mallory showed up minutes later with two SUVs of CIA agents for the cleanup—not only to set a perimeter around the crater, but to take Homelander’s body. Helena had Mallory steer Ryan away, though she promised to check on him soon.

Helena was going to join where Butcher, M.M., and the rest of them had gathered next, but she noticed something. There were drops of blood leading away from the crater, into a nearby alley.

With suspicion churning in her gut, she followed the trail into the alley. By now it was still dark outside, even with the sun starting to peek out from between the city skyscrapers. The deeper part of the alley was still cast in darkness.

A hand shot out and grabbed her by the waist, at the same time another covered her mouth. She gasped and was about to scream, when she came face to face with Ben. He shushed her.

She frowned at him with furrowed brows.

“Ben?! What the hell?” she hissed between his fingers and tried to pry them off. He eventually let her go. He still had a supe’s strength, so she could assume that the blast had only taken away Homelander’s powers, not Ben’s.

“What are you doing?” she asked, both incredulous and annoyed. “Are you okay?”

He gave you an amused smirk. “I’m fine.”

He hadn’t been sure what she would do when she saw him. Ask about his wellbeing wasn’t it, but it had smugness welling up in his chest. It seemed like she didn’t hate him too much after all.

“I know all about the Mob Squad’s genius plan to gas me up and stuff me in a goddamn box,” he said, less pleasantly. “That’s not fucking happening.”

Helena’s lips pursed. “So what are you going to do?”

Maybe she didn’t want to see him in a box either, and maybe he’d just done the entire world a solid by taking out Homelander, but that didn’t mean Ben wasn’t dangerous all on his own.

“I’m taking my well-earned vacation,” he said. His smirk deepened. “But two tickets to paradise could be arranged.” 

Helena sighed with a smile, shaking her head. 

“I don’t think so, Ben,” she said, though she tilted her head at him. “You could be a real hero, you know. If you did the work.”

He stared down at her for a moment. He eventually quirked a grin. 

“A lot of your friends would call that a lost cause,” he said.

“Prove your father wrong. Prove me right,” she said, raising a brow. “I dare you.”

“Hmm,” Ben said. He considered her as his smirk softened slightly, into a more sincere smile.

Instead of answering her, he slid a hand around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She gasped and held onto his arms on reflex. It gave him the opening he needed to steal a kiss.

Helena was too shocked to heed her first instinct, which was to slap him in the face. 

He soon pulled away, giving her another familiar smirk at her angry, blushing face. 

But after he stroked her cheek and finally let go of her, she realized that this was a goodbye.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart,” said Ben.

He backed away from her, deeper into the darkness of the alley. She couldn’t see him well, just the outline of his broad form, but she thought she heard the last bit of his voice.

“Goodbye, Helena.”

And then he was gone.

AN: Sigh. Thus ends Homelander, son of no one. How did you like Ben and Helena's goodbye? 😂

We're at the end, folks.

Next Time:

When his gaze found hers, they didn’t need words.

They were home.

His head bowed to greet Helena with a kiss, languid and unhurried.

His hand moved under the sheets to slip under her silky top, splaying across her lower back. Her arm twined around his neck in turn, her fingers slipping into his dark hair. Hers was already wild this morning; it both tickled his arm and fanned across her pillow.

She nipped his bottom lip and earned a pleased sound from him, deep in his throat. But before he could roll her onto her back, they heard quick footsteps coming up the stairs.

Butcher groaned, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder. But a smile twitched at his mouth.

“Incoming,” he muttered.

Keep Reading: Epilogue

The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Tag List:

@lauraaan182 @homielander @calizmor @haibara-ai-tsii @brujaporfavor @sleepyqueerenergy @adoringanakin @skyesthebomb @lunaticgurly @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso

@xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @emily-winchester @xxlaynaxx @kaleldobrev @jad3djay @jackles010378 @kishie8 @chriszgirl92

[blindmagdalena]

What do you think Homelander’s attraction to Becca was? It’s not like at the Christmas party she was the only woman there, and by that point he had no idea who Butcher was. The actress that plays her is attractive, but the later scenes (season two and even just their initial introduction) between them suggest there’s something more to his attraction.

It’s obvious in the season two scenes that Homelander and Becca have, he has some lingering attraction. I think that’s primarily led by the fact that they have a son together and Homelander desperately wants a family, and also that Homelander is looking for a new woman to attach himself onto since Madelyn died. Perhaps he just wants what he can’t have especially knowing that she’s still in love with Butcher and he wants someone to love him that unconditionally. The main reason I thought of this is because in my opinion, Homelander isn’t the type of character to do something without a reason. Usually he has one even if it’s not a good reason.

ah yes, potentially one of the most contentious/controversial plot points in the fandom. canon gives us VERY little to go on here, so excuse me while I just ramble my take on the whole situation. i extrapolate a good amount. everyone you ask is going to have a different answer, and each one is as valid as any other. this is simply mine!

Homelander's greatest sin isn't wrath or pride. It's envy. He is a bottomless well of yearning for what he doesn't have, and he is viciously covetous. We see this play out most plainly in his one sided beef with a literal baby.

When he meets Becca, she's beautiful, quick witted, strong willed and independent. A career woman. Not only that, she's helping manage his career by handing his social media, which is part of his public perception. Very important to him! He already has a ton of wires crossed when it comes to the women in his life acting as both coworkers/Vought employees and emotional surrogates, i.e. Maeve, Madelyn and Vogelbaum. Plus who knows how many nanny mommies.

At this point, we don't know how long he's been with Maeve, but we have at least another 6 years before the pair breaks up. He's enjoying Maeve, but he wants more. He always wants more. Maybe he wants a wife, and she's refusing him that.

But Becca is a wife. He sees that ring on her finger and it boils his blood that he doesn't have that classic, romantic symbol of commitment. Of love. Worse yet when he meets her husband! The figurative boogeyman. The baby stealing his mommy and her milk. We're not there in the story yet, but we do see a trend here. It likely didn't start here: imagine what it was like for him to find out Vogelbaum had kids. Kids he loved. I bet that gutted Homelander. It should have been him.

Homelander, in his mind, can never win. Can never have enough. Anyone else having means they are directly taking away what should be his. It could be that it was never really about Becca specifically so much as the archetype she represented.

That carries us into season 2 where Becca takes on an additional archetype that Homelander is now lacking: mother. I think you're right on the money that a good amount of his attraction comes from the fact she's the mother of his son.

He falls pretty deep down the fantasy family rabbit hole with Becca, though. He not only inserts himself into their lives and routine, he takes a renewed interest in Becca. He snoops through her things, smells her clothes, and engages with her well beyond just interacting with Ryan. Then comes the scene where he finds her hidden stash of Billy merch, and the fantasy is shattered. She's still in love with another man. She's a wife, but she's not his wife. She's the mother to his son, but she's not someone who will fulfill those emotional needs for him. I've made this comparison before, but it's very reminiscent to the breakdown he has when he sees his baby blanket in his fake childhood home. He moves on VERY easily to Stormfront when she not only presents herself as a mother to her own child, but a potential mother for his child.

I'm backtracking a little here, but when Maeve called Homelander over from Billy and Becca at the party, I always got the vibe she was doing so quite purposefully. I wonder how much of their early relationship was Maeve feeling like she was performing damage control. Managing him, curbing his destructive behaviors. Did she see that covetous edge in his eye when he would look at Becca, at her ring? Did she try to tell him to leave her alone, play it like a joke?

We have the deleted scene where Maeve says the reason they broke up was because he couldn't keep it in his tights, but we don't really have any other explicit instances or even mentions of Homelander liberally sleeping around. Did she know about Becca, or at the very least did she make an educated guess when the woman disappeared? Maybe she felt like he did it to spite her. Did she know about Madelyn?

Ultimately we know Maeve becomes complicit in his crimes. She feels her hands are dirty with the same blood. She becomes jaded, she's no longer the hero. She's just an accessory. I definitely don't think it started that way, though.

anyways, I hope this somewhat answered your question! I have a tendency to jump around a lot and word vomit, but this generally covers my take on why that all went down the way it did.

Honestly, I would love to write a fic someday that digs more into my thoughts here. Becca deserves so much more than what she got from the narrative.

[ishomieokay]

Hi! (Big rant I'm sry, I am such a yapper)

What do you think of homelander x starlight ?

For me atleast, I think it's a missed opportunity to develop both of their characters. They have so much parallels going on. I wouldn't say I wanted a full blown romance in s3, but more of a confusion about who is really is the enemy from starlight's side- since homelander is the biggest victim of Vought . And from homelander's side, every women in his life except for maeve have somehow used and taken advantage of him, starlight is the last person who would do that ! He would be really confused that she isn't doing that. She also never knew his horrid past that too.

I don't think homelander is a character who could really be redeemed, he is so long gone for that. But their fake dating arc could have opened so many doors for both of their character development.

I knw I am being delusional enough to think that he is very much obsessed with starlight in s4 as much as he is obsessed with butcher. Like she is his nemesis who stood up against him for godsake idk why the show has watered down her purpose to petty rival with firecracker. Eric kripke is so bad at writing the show Lord 😭✋

Yes, she was watered down without a doubt. And again and again, Billy is given an importance he doesn't really deserve. The whole nemesis thing he has going on with Homelander makes no fucking sense to me. Ryan has no reason to care that much about Butcher. Beyond the fact that Butcher is relentlessly trying to fuck him over, Homelander has no reason to be so obsessed with him either. Narratively speaking, Starlight should be his nemesis, not Butcher.

I actually am such a BIG FAN of Starlander. Weakness by RovingOtter is an amazing fic about them that honestly changed my brain chemestry. Not to mention it's the main reason why I like Homelander so much.

I realize this is an unpopular opinion in the fandom, but I don't think the issue is so much that Homelander is past redemption. It's just that the writers don't want that to happen. The narrative is not going there, even thought THERE ARE elements that would allow it to happen. For example, I don't see Homelander becoming a hero in any capacity, but after all the abuse he was subjected to by humans, he could have easily fallen in a more morally gray area a la Magneto. The writers are just not interested in exploring that because they are all about politics (which I do believe was a direct result of the US elections) and to get their message across Homelander needs to be an irredeemable Big Bad. If they redeemed fucking A-Train and even made Hughie forgive him after *killing Robin and laughing about it*, everyone gets a pass in my opinion though.

Also, it's about the times. You'd find that the main reason why many people don't want Homelander to be redeemed is that he is a rapist. Nowadays that's just unacceptable. Believe or not, back in the 2000s it was something forgivable and sometimes even expected in certain genres (I'm looking at you yaoi). Talking about Western media, I think the most obvious example of this is Spike trying to rape Buffy, his love interest, in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. That wouldn't fly today, lol.

The dubiously consensual (or just uh, not consensual) sex scene or attempted rape between the main couple was also a super common trope in Soap Operas back in the day. Don't mind me I'm Latin American and for a long time I didn't have cable.

Anyway, I'm rambling. My point is Homelander is never going to be redeemed in canon, but as far as fanfiction goes, who cares? It's fiction, and you can do whatever you want with fictional characters. The world is your playground!

Homelander does have some parallels with Starlight, but tbh, that's not really the reason why I ship them. He actually has much more parallels with Kimiko (which is also an amazing ship in my opinion, and it really doesn't get the recognition it deserves!). He also has parallels with Butcher, with Soldier Boy, and even with Frenchie. So that's not really what I look at when shipping.

I think Starlight is the only character who could potentially see anything good or worth saving in Homelander, and just that makes their relationship very interesting to me. The fact that they are archenemies (or they would be, if the show made any sense), is the cherry on top. We love some good enemies-to-lovers here!

[house-of-slayterr]

i feel like I'm SO late on this train but I am absolutely craving more of the Hughie x reader x Adrian fic.. bc HOO WEE I love my underrated boys so much

A Time to Kill.

Three weeks, it had already been three weeks since Adrian stumbled through the storm portal. Time flies when Butcher has you watching the Supe’s every move. Your task was easy, fallow Queen Maeve around until you found the easiest weakness to exploit.

Your head flicks up when you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and idle conversations. You set down the knife you were sharpening as you look up the boys.

“A Train should be next”

“Of course you’d say that mate, A Train is personal to you”

Butchers sarcasm was deeper in tone today, something about his mood slightly more playful than usual.

“We still haven’t found a way to catch him if he tries to run” MM points out.

You sigh heavily.

“You could always switch me to Atrain, I still don’t know why you have me on Maeve duty, she eventually just gonna drink herself into an early grave and take care of it for us.”

“Because dove, she hates men, if any of us fallow her she’d notice.”

“And A train only a man” you point out. “Tell me, you think he’d run from me?”

“I wouldn’t” a chipper voice calls.

You roll your eyes again, getting used to the new banter that came from the deranged boy. He fit strangely well into your group of misfits.

“Nobody asked you mate. You’re only here cause they won’t let us kick you out.”

“Ouch” he fakes offence.

“Please butcher you act like he hasn’t been helpful. He got us more on the deep then you ever have so hush.”

“I thought my friend was freaky, but the Deep is wild man. He-“

You slap a hand over his mouth.

“Thank you Adrian, we do not need to know more information at this time”

You no so gently redirect the conversation. Adrian tends to get distracted and focus on details that didn’t matter.

“Back to A train, got anything for me Hughie?”

“He’ll be at a club tonight, might be able to single him out there.”

“Which mean they’ll be too many people” butcher points out a flaw in this plan.

“Not if we get him alone there won’t. I’m serious butcher, I think I’m our best shot at this. I don’t wanna get any closer to that asshole then I have to but we do this for Hughie.”

The older man sighs pinching his nose. MM seems suspiciously quiet today and Kimiko wasn’t back from what she was doing yet.

“You seem quiet”

“I agree with Hugh, he’s becoming more of a problem all the time. The less we leave homelander with a team the easier it will be to meet our end goal.”

You nod.

“So it’s settled then. MM, Frenchie and Butcher on backup, me and Hugh will handle the problem.”

“Who died and made you leader?”

“It’s about to be you if you don’t crawl out of my ass Butcher.”

“Oi don’t be such a cunt!”

You growl stepping to him grabbing your knife before you can stop yourself. Frenchie slots himself between you and butcher pressing you away.

“Détends-toi mon amour. He’s just one whiskey short of being functional today, give him a rest.”

He pushes butcher into the kitchen to go cool off and grab a beer.

“One of those days I’m gonna break your pretty face by accident Frenchie if you keep stepping between us.”

He raises a brow at you. “You weren’t actually gonna stab Butcher”

“I just might-“

“I call dibs on his jacket if you kill him.” Adrian has a goofey grin on his face.

“Back to the plan-“ you groan, day like this making you hate your unconventional job.

“I can lure him somewhere quiet, Adrian I want you to be Hugh’s back up. This is his fight, he should be the one who gets to do it.”

“I get to go?”

“Considering I still haven’t found a way to send you home, yeah, you’re stuck with us.”

“No other supes should be there” butcher renters with a beer in his hand.

“Sucks for him I guess. Maybe he shouldn’t party alone after making enemies.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You fidget with your outfit, it much more revealing then you’re used to wearing. You made sure to have eyes on Adrian and Hughie from their posts, making sure you ear piece is working.

“Yo, dickhead, you hearing this?”

“Loud and clear cunt” butcher responds back.

Frenchie scrunches his face annoyed with the banter between the two.

“We can hear you don’t worry, we’re watching all the exists. MM’s clear.”

“No eyes on the target yet but we’re all in position.”

You wander further into the party, knowing someone like Atrain was probably drowning in women, and men who want what he has fawning after him. It won’t be that hard to find him once he got there, you just had to be more enticing than the others throwing themselves at him. The thought of this made you sick, but you’d do it for you best friend. He always had your back so you would have his.

You spot Atrain when he enters and wait a few mins, letting him settle into place with his guard down. You adjust your outfit one last time before approaching.

“You’re like, Atrain right? Famous superhero?” You pitch your voice a little higher.

The man turns to you with a grin on his lips.

“That would be me, and who might you be?”

You giggle slightly.

“I can be whoever you want me to be sugar” you leave room for mystery.

“Is that so?” He runs a cocky hand up your arm.

You give a nod, trying to keep your focus but you can feel Adrian’s eyes locked on you from across the club.

“Care for a dance?” You offer your hand dragging him out to the dance floor at first.

You let your mind go blank whenever he touches you, imagining that touch as someone else. Someone gentler, someone you’d actually want to give the luxery of having their hands on your body. But you reminded yourself of the mission. These hands touching you would belong to a dead man soon enough.

When your eyes open again you lock eyes with Hughie giving him a signal to meet you out back.

“Why don’t we take this party somewhere more interesting?” You whisper in his ear, trying not to throw up at the situation.

A small grin breaks on his face as you take his hand and lead him out back. You pull him far enough away that nobody in the club can hear. You cute hugh under your breath for taking so long as you keep you distraction going. Refusing to touch his lips, you press him against the wall and start kissing at his neck.

Butcher and Frenchie try not to cringe at the audio in their ears back in the van, hearing the hero moan in your ear.

“So hero, you remember everyone that you save?” You keep your voice flirty.

“What, I save your life one time beautiful and now you wanna pay me back?”

You attempt not to gag, keeping your act up.

“Not exactly like that” your hand trails up his chest.

“You remember everyone that you kill?” Your tone is a little colder.

“What?”

Your hand finishes its trailing landing on his neck as you press him against the wall further.

“Do you remember everyone that you kill asshole? Or was she just another number to you?”

Atrain look confused but not scared yet. He’s a fool for thinking his speed can get him out of this one. Hughie steps out of the shadows with a gun, not wanting to afford any mistakes like with translucent, he wants to keep this one simple. He had no powers to overpower Atrain with. And he knew he wasn’t stronger. He aims the gun at his head.

“You?”

“Answer her question.”

“Look of this is about your girlfriend, maybe that bitch shouldn’t have been in the street.”

“She was barely off the sidewalk. You don’t even remember her name do you?”

“Should I?” He says cockily and cold.

“Robin.”

You try to encourage Hughie to speeds things up, of course he deserved his moment, but you couldn’t overpower the supe for long. He was starting to slip through your grip.

“Stupid name for a stupid bitch”

“Pretty cocky for someone who has a gun in his face.”

“You won’t pull the trigger. Come on you both know homelander wouldn’t let this slide. You’ll be melted goo on the sidewalk by the time he finds out.”

“We’ll take our chances” you seeth trying to adjust your grip.

Atrain goes to speak again but Hugh shuts him up.

“No, you’re done talking.”

As he goes to pull the trigger Atrain takes that split second to use his power and put you in line with the bullet and goes to run away. Hugh recognises your scream of pain in a second and picks you, knowing he can’t run after Atrain. He kneels to the ground catching you in his arms. You look up at him with wide eyes in pain but the sound you hear next confuses you.

Suddenly you hear screaming and there’s a warm spray of blood that coats you and Hughie. And then the screaming stops. You blink in shock.

“What the fuck?” Hughie says, looking frantically between you and Adrian who now stands at the end of the alleyway.

An excited cheer leaves Adrian’s mouth as he stand there triumphantly, so covered in blood you can’t even see his clothes properly.

“Yeah!” He cheers, “fuck I’ve always wanted to do that!” He sound proud of himself.

Hughie blinks at him now having a healthy level of fear of the man they’ve let into their group. Adrian stands at the end of the alleyway holding a revving chainsaw. Atrain now, well, everywhere. Adrian’s victory is cut short when he takes a moment to asses the position you’re in.

“Shit you’re hurt.”

He rushes over two the two of you discarding the chainsaw.

“Is it bad, I remember when Hardcourt got shot. Hospital right?” He says frantically, seeming to want to say more but he cuts out many of his usually ranty details.

“You got him” you slowly break into a grin. “Adrian you genius you got him!”

“Uhh, are you in shock, shouldn’t you be in pain right now.”

“Fuck the bullet, that bitch went right through me” you assure him. “Adrian you really did it.” You groan a little in pain.

Hughie shakes his head not wanting to revel in the victory until you’re safe back at base.

“The others are just around the corner. Butch will get rid of the evidence and Frenchie and MM can help me patch you up.” He helps you sit up.

You groan in pain holding your shoulder.

“Don’t say I never did shit for you Campbell” you groan playfully.

“You took more than one for the team this time, I owe you.”

“No shit.”

“I got her” Adrian says as he carefully picks you up carrying you to the back of the van.

You blush not used to be carried while conscious. Of course butcher has had to drag you home a few times, but this was different. It reminds you there’s so much you still don’t know about Adrian. And you were eager to learn more. Maybe him being stuck with you wouldn’t be so bad.

“Well done mate” butcher claps him on the back. “Now let’s get ‘em patched up so we can actually celebrate you being useful.”

Adrian stays by your side the rest of the night. Leaving Hughie to contemplate his feelings about you. Seeing you get shot really messed him up, but you seemed so happy at Adrian’s side. He didn’t want to be in competition with the other man, but it seems he’d have to fight for your attention again.

An: sorry if this wasn’t good, I wrote this half asleep but I tried my best to make it fun

[banisheed]

TIMING: 1942 + Current; after MYSELF I MUST REMAKE LOCATION: Saol Eile, Ireland CONTENT WARNINGS: Unsanitary tw, Self harm tw (one-line reference to banshee specific training) SUMMARY: Putrecia has a "solution" for Siobhan.

“I’m not going back, am I?” Siobhan asked

1942 || Ó Dúbhláin Estate; Siobhan's family house.

"I heard Putrecia was a beauty in her glory days." Siobhan swung her long legs wide, kicking them up on the kitchen table. The manure crusted between the ridges of her sole knocked lose, raining pebbles across her grandmother's lovingly—Siobhan called it loving the way a butcher calls a vegetarian "pleasant"—crocheted tablecloth. She thought the tablecloth was trite; she thought most things were trite.

"No!" Orla leaned across the table, pulling the dry ends of her wavy blonde hair out of her mouth long enough to speak. At twelve years old, Orla was hopeless: practically an adult and barely coping with the loss of her pacifier. Siobhan was constantly telling her that she looked like a cow, chewing on her straw hair and blinking with her big brown eyes. "I thought she was born old! She looks like she was born old."

Siobhan liked her cousin about as much as she liked her grandmother's attempts at art. The tablecloth supposedly depicted sunflowers, but it looked more like corn if someone simultaneously forgot basic shapes and was allergic to the use of a single color. "You mean ugly; she looks like she was born ugly." Ugly like grandmother's multi-colored flower-adjacent oblongs.

Orla's face scrunched together and Siobhan thought she looked even more like a cow. "Mother, doesn't like the world ugly. She says it's for uncreative people."

Then it was Siobhan's turn in the eternal stage comedy that was interacting with her cousin, to frown. Mother was what Orla called her mother; as in the mother that belonged to her, not Orla. The mother that was to Orla, to be generous, an aunt. But she always said it like that: "mother" in English, as if mocking the strange way Siobhan spoke to hers. Her mother, as in the mother that had birthed her and not Orla, was born and raised in England, not Ireland. Her accent wasn't particularly strong and when speaking to her mother—as in Siobhan's crocheting grandmother—she defaulted to English.

Siobhan dropped her feet from the table, sitting up straighter. Dirt from her boot had stained a few of the multi-colored oblongs, etching the shape of her heel into the fabric. Family was strange: as much as Siobhan hated Orla and wanted to—for example, and not something she had regularly fantasized about—push her out of a conveniently open window, she had to remember that they were related (albeit distantly) and that Orla was twelve (even though when she was twelve, Maeve pushed her out of a window).

A lifetime ago (multiple, in fact), her grandmother ran away. She was found, the way runaways always are, but not before she'd tried to raise three little kids in the north of England. One of them was Siobhan's mother, the other two she didn't ask about. It was better not to talk about the little smears.

Siobhan's great-grandmother—as in the woman who'd given birth to the one that couldn't crochet—always said her daughter had just come to her senses. But it was obvious to anyone that knew Siobhan's grandmother—as in the woman responsible for the fucking tablecloth—for more than a passing second that she didn't have any sense to come back to. "Well, Putrecia's ugly."

Orla was back to sucking on her hair. "I guess so," Orla said. "Is it wrong to be ugly?"

Siobhan pierced a finger between the weaves of the tablecloth, pulling a new hole to join the dozens of others she'd made. "If you have to ask, Orla..." she intoned. At twenty-five years old, Siobhan was perfect and would be for, at most, another forty years.

—

2024 || Putrecia's hut.

There wasn't an answer for Siobhan's question; the silence, she supposed, was the answer. Having just enough sense not to degrade herself by repeating it, she watched Putrecia scratch more letters, seal them up, and stack them into a jagged pile. Every so often, she would lick her dry quill, leaving a streak of black on her tongue. Even more often, she would drip black ink over her workspace or worse, on to a letter. Then she'd lean over into her pile of crinkly, stained rags and uselessly dab at her table.

Siobhan would sooner relive the day her wings were unrooted from her back than compliment Putrecia, but she did have an astonishing amount of patience. For a hag, anyway.

"Do you even remember me?" She asked (it would be less embarrassing to try a new question).

Putrecia didn't answer.

"You called me Sadhbh; that is my mother. You know that, right? You remember us?"

Putrecia licked the end of her quill.

"You have always been ugly," she said.

Even that didn't shake Putrecia from her task. The pile beside her grew until letters rained from the edge. As if satisfied with her sloppy work, Putrecia fell into her chair with a huff, holding up a sheet of paper, dribbling ink onto the floor.

"Ring the bell over there, you gnat." Putrecia coughed and Siobhan, stunned into obedience, rang the old bell handing between animal skins. She waved the soggy paper around. "And take this."

Siobhan plucked the paper from her hands, turning it over and squinting at Putrecia's famous scrawl. When she could work out the words between the ink-stains, fingerprints and cross-outs, she realized it looked like a terrible shopping list. "You want me to run errands for you, Putrecia?" Siobhan was finally what she'd wanted to be for forty-two years: much, much more like the girl—woman—who hadn't lost her wings yet. She believed herself to be better than errands.

Putrecia pulled a handkerchief from the front pocket of her oversized dress and coughed into it. When she looked back up at Siobhan, her hazy eyes seemed a little more clear. It might have just been the sunlight that decided to take that moment to pierce Putrecia's moth-eaten curtains. "I'm getting old," she said, which was never an easy thing for a banshee of Putrecia's age to admit. Siobhan didn't say that she thought Putrecia had been born old (did she think that? Why did someone else come to mind?).

"And that concerns me because...?" Siobhan waved the list around. It sported such darling elements as: leprechaun, golden goose, best worm, big bone.

Putrecia broke into wild laughter and then hacking coughs. "You were so meek when you came in here, no one would recognize you. But like this?" She wheezed into her handkerchief. "Stick your nose up a little higher, you still look like your mother from down here—a tale as old as a fossil: a daughter who doesn't inherit her mother's sense."

Siobhan flushed, crushing the letter in her hand. "And there's the Putrecia everyone loves," she hissed, adjusting herself under the hag's clouded gaze. It was impossible to tell where Putrecia was looking; her eyes were almost all sclera. It was somehow more impossible to read her expressions from under her sagging skin and deep wrinkles, like the grooves of a tree. In the right light, she always looked amused. In another, she always looked incredibly pissed. Her voice—a gravely mixture being shot out of a phlegm-filled well and bounced into a wet, toothless mouth—wasn't any help either. Siobhan hated her for it.

"I'm getting old," Putrecia repeated herself without any embarrassment, "and I'm not the judge anymore and I'm not interested in going back up there."

Siobhan chewed on her lip. "Again, this concerns me..." She stopped herself. It might have been anger, it might have been indignancy—Dolans don't put words to things they aren't supposed to feel—but it was wrong and it choked up Siobhan's dry throat. "I did what you asked. I've been doing what you've asked of me." She heaved. "You send me letters and e-mails and I do what you ask; over and over again I have done what you've asked. What you tasked me with!" Siobhan's hand was curled tight around the paper, wrinkling it into a paste. "You said I could earn my place!"

Putrecia gestured around her small hut. "Do I look like I have a computer?"

She bristled; that wasn't the point. The 'who' of 'who sent the letters' was the furthest thing from the point—which Siobhan now fancied to be the end of a sharpened knife. "Fine," Siobhan grumbled. "Someone was sending me letters and e-mails."

"Not me," Putrecia said. "That list?" Putrecia raised a bony finger. "That's me."

Slowly, Siobhan unfurled her fist. In her palm, across the deep groove where she ran her knife a lifetime ago (multiple, in fact), black ink dripped off her skin. Paper and skin; neither go back the same away again.

She pressed the wrinkled paper to the wall, ironing it with her fingers. "Fuck," she hissed. In imitation of the hubris that had led to the letter commanding her to bring Regan Kavanagh home being smudged to illegibility, Putrecia's already hieroglyphic scrawl was smeared. "Fuck." She could ask Putrecia to write it again; she could ask Putrecia to tell her what was on it. She could—

"I wasn't sure if you wanted the big bag or the small bag so I brought both." Orla Dolan burst into the hut, knocking the old door free from its squealing hinges; leaving of open air of Saol Eile there, just right there. Her curls of straw-blonde hair bounced with each skipping step she took right up to Putrecia's ink-stained table. She portioned the letters equally between her big and small messenger bags and Siobhan heard Orla's whiny voice in her head explaining it: the bags would be sad if one had more than the other. She'd do that pout she'd learned at sixteen and never let go of, the one that really amplified her cattle features.

"Orla?" Siobhan asked, which was a stupid thing to ask.

Orla dropped her bags, and her big eyes with the long, pale lashes turned all of their glossy attention on to her. "Shiv!" Orla exclaimed, which was a name no one had called her in forty-two years. Her cousin charged at her, tackling her to the floor in a tight embrace. The two of them smashed into trinkets and furniture, toppling over bones and taxidermy; a china shop greeting the bull.

Orla was never a girl of coherency and instead of speaking, she sobbed into Siobhan's sweater. She might have been saying something about how she missed her cousin, how she smelled good, how she finally learned how to throw knives, how she had this cool new job. But all Siobhan could think about was how much she wanted Orla to get off of her and go be emotional somewhere else.

Siobhan was elbowing and shoving her when she got a face full of Orla's new hat. Well, it might have been old—it might have been exactly forty-two years old—but it was new for Siobhan. New, and very familiar.

At thirty years old, far too old for getting new hobbies, Orla announced to an uninterested crowd of Dolans that she was going to be a fashion designer. This came a year after she announced that she wanted to be a supermarket clerk, so no one took her very seriously. That summer, she made an array of hats. If pressed, Siobhan could admit that Orla's only skill was in hat-making. However, it was not in hat design. Or hat ethics.

"What the fuck is this?" Siobhan shoved Orla off, snatching her red and black hat from her head. The color wasn't as bright as it used to be but the tiny, hair-like scales were a sensation Siobhan was unlikely to forget. "Did you turn my wings into a hat?"

"I begged them to let me keep it!" Orla stood up, brushing down her clothes. "I said 'Those are my big cousin's wings! Someone ought to keep them!' and they wouldn't listen! They wanted to throw them in the pit and I said 'Okay, but not both!'" She smiled at Siobhan but when she didn't get a smile back, she pouted. "And you know, with how much you support crafts—you were always on about the tablecloth—I thought 'Oh, this is perfect! Shiv will love this!'. So I used the one wing—the other went down quick in the pit, you would've loved to see it—and I didn't have enough fabric so I just used that old tablecloth but now it's art!"

In one hand, she crushed Putrecia's list and in the other, the brim of Orla's hat; both quivered. Siobhan didn't think about it; it was a moment she could recognize that thinking about it would send her nowhere. She threw the hat out the door like a Frisbee and Orla chased it like a dog. She spun around to an amused or annoyed Putrecia.

"I get the things on this list..." Siobhan said through gritted teeth, "...and I go back home?"

Putrecia shrugged. "That's for your judge to decide; you're going to a re-trial. You get those things and maybe Fate looks down kindly. You know how the system works, child."

She couldn't know how a system worked if it had no real rules. She couldn't get the items on a list if she ruined that list. She couldn't do this again, if it meant someone would turn it into a hat. But Siobhan didn't say that; Siobhan didn't think about that. She didn't ask who her judge was and please, not Clare, as though it mattered; so many banshees hated her and the one that didn't—

"I got it! Oh no, that's a leaf."

was Orla.

Siobhan didn't think. Siobhan didn't say anything. Siobhan didn't ask.

Siobhan left through Putrecia's back door and accepted the only option that had ever been offered to her.

Again.

[empress-of-the-other-world]

𝑴𝒀 𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑨𝑳 𝑶𝑭 𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑹𝑬𝑻 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑾

My portrayal of Queen Maeve is canon until after S3, that's where things start to become even more difficult for her. She reluctantly becomes a supe once more, but will this time be different for her? Can she finally be happy?

For a long while Maeve is under the impression that she'd finally got away from the hell that came with being a Supe. Now she's only human, she's ready to settle down on the other side of the country on a little farm in Modesto, she's even ready to let herself truly be loved by Elena, or so she thinks...

She hasn't thought about any of the supe shit after she escaped New York city, until one evening she gets a text from Annie. Annie has gone to Maeve looking for some advice as it turns out Butcher doesn't have long to live because the Temp V he was taking turned his brain into mush and she's concerned about what it's done to Hughie. It's a shock to everyone, but the only real reason Annie needs advice is because she doesn't really feel like she's any use to Hughie. Whilst she's focused on him, he's focused on Butcher and not really caring about his own health. He doesn't want to listen to her and will dodge talking about himself in all this or even getting help. Annie doesn't know what to do.

Taking the news in is difficult for Maeve, she thought she'd put all that behind her. But knowing that she'll be the reason for their deaths doesn't sit right with her, especially when it comes to Butcher... She already thinks of herself as a monster because of all the things she has done and has been made to do in the past, but she never thought she would be the sole reason people have died. All she's ever wanted to do from the start is save people, not help them in their path to their end...

But all of this is a lot more than just the guilt and regret though... She'd never admit it, but maybe there was always a little more to her and Butcher's relationship? They both thought of themselves as monsters, truly hated their own existences, hated Supes, and were willing to do no matter what to take down Homelander... Even if it would kill them. They had some sort of deep understanding during the night they got together.

And these feelings only complicate things for her immensely. Maggie is supposed to have finally gotten out, she's no longer a Supe and she's now with Elena, whom of which she'd fought long and hard for to be with. But she already went and fucked that up long before Elena and her moved away, Elena doesn't know about what happened between her and Butcher yet, and Maeve hopes she'll never know.

But one early morning, Maeve is suddenly impulsive. Without a word, she took a long, grueling journey travelling back to New York city. All this longing and guilt that has built up over time until it got to be too much. And thanks to Annie telling her about when Butcher and Hughie's check up at the hospital was, the hospital would be where she was heading.

During the journey, she thought hard about the things she would say, but once she walks through those doors and sees Butcher there, she suddenly doesn't know what to say at all.

I am currently writing a short fic on this little storyline of mine, so as soon as that is finished and published, I shall link it on here.

[whateverthedragonswant]

One of the things I love about this last battle scene from season 3 is all of the connections being displayed. Between Homelander and Soldier Boy. Between Butcher and Soldier Boy. Between Hughie and Annie. Even between Maeve and Soldier Boy.

Here is where Butcher tells Ben that Ryan is his wife's son. I love that they waited until after Ben proves he's willing to kill Homelander, that they reveal this information through this scene between the two characters.

And then of course we get:

And to me, this is so important. Not only is it a truly heroic exit for Maeve, not only does it bring her story full circle (because when we meet her, we see she's anything but a hero though she hates that), but we also get the one LGBTQIA+ figure aka progress taking out/removing the toxic/sexist/racist original Supe aka the old. And that's important because we saw:

"Show Our True Colors" plus multi-color stripes shown reminds me of "These Colors Don't Run" with American-color stripes. Very purposeful imagery showing Maeve to be the antithesis to Soldier Boy in every way. Even wrapping these contrasts in subtle parallels like both of them picking on Hughie. Granted, Maeve hasn't liked Hughie since she met him and Ben has his own reasons for not caring for Hughie, but it also plays into the whole Starlight connection as well. Maeve saves Starlight (and company) from Ben, while he went head to head with Starlight. Maeve even thanks Starlight for saving her later on. Contrast and connection.

Maeve represents progress for Vought (more appropriately, they use her for it thanks to Homelander outing her) and the world so it absolutely made sense for Ben to not only see her picture, to see the poster of the movie Dawn of the Seven, but also to see this gay couple walk past him.

Because in Dawn of the Seven, Maeve's character is in love with a woman and this film is then used by Vought to promote their open embracing of modern times (while also used to to give a story on what happened with Stormfront).

And you can even see this type of connection in this scene:

You have two women, one a WOC, and a Black man being the ones to hold Soldier Boy at first.

And then you have:

Maeve making the choice to protect the next generation, which is also compiled with her coming full circle in her own journey because she wasn't able to save that little girl on the plane. Here is where she's redeemed while also being the one to oust Homelander (to an extent) who is basically the modern Soldier Boy and Soldier Boy all in one. For her to have Starlight looking at her in that moment and then for her to see Butcher and then Ryan, she makes her choice.

Which is also why it's so interesting to see the contrast in her decision regarding Ryan compared to Soldier Boy's decision when his grandson reacts to him about to hurt his dad.

Out of everyone, they both share wounds on the same sides of their faces, both from Homelander and Butcher respectively, who both have heat vision. Because not only do Homelander and Butcher have their own connections and parallels as well as contrasts, but all of that stuff for the characters are present during this sequence.

And even going back to Butcher's reveal to Soldier Boy about Ryan being Homelander's and Becca's son, to me, that line of "Wait, Homelander fucked your wife? And you want to save the brat?" is very indicative of old vs modern/progress. Butcher isn't Ryan's biological dad but he's protecting him because of a promise to Becca (and it's strongly implied that he's come to care for him in his own way). Granted, Soldier Boy doesn't know the circumstances of Ryan's conception but he most likely thinks Homelander and Becca had a good old fashioned sexcapade so to him this is a big no-no and why he can't understand why Butcher wants to protect Ryan. You touching another guy's wife isn't cool but a child conceived from that, the husband wasn't expected to raise that kid.

So it all makes sense why they chose Maeve to be the one to save everyone from Soldier Boy and sacrifice herself, not only for her exit and so her story could become full circle. She also represented progress and the modern day for Vought Supes compared to the first and oldest Supe and the outdated past.

So many connections throughout this scene, this season, even when it comes to the contrasts between certain characters. Love it.

[deliciouskeys]

001 for Maevelander :)

* when I started shipping it if I did:

Episode 3 of season 1! They had so many good interactions. I was really intrigued by what kind of person Maeve was to be able to not only date HL, and also somehow manage to extricate herself out of a relationship with him, still be alive, and still have him clearly pining to get back together.

“See that’s what I like about you. You always tell me the truth”. And then in episode 4… the harrowing plane scene. The Boys writers say it sets up a contrast between HL and Maeve’s moralities, of course, but I thought it was also a fascinating example of someone staying silent about a serious crime because it’s their ex-partner who did it. Her evolving and increasing disgust and self-judgement as events spiral out afterwards was very interesting to watch.

* my thoughts:

I do think with each season their interactions got less satisfying 😕 But I adored morallygray!Maeve walking with the devil side by side in season 1 ❤️❤️❤️

* What makes me happy about them:

I thought Maeve was a badass female character, and I really like to think/read about how she first discovered and tapped into HL’s mental subbiness.

* What makes me sad about them:

Well, the fact that they were never really on the same page at all about the relationship is pretty sad. The scene in S3 where she tells HL that she hated him from the start makes her yet another person gaslighting him (don’t think the writers intended this scene to be tragic but it was)

* things done in fanfic that annoys me:

I have to say none of the Maevlander fics I’ve come across have annoyed me. Hypothetically, I’d be annoyed by a fic where HL was cruel and abusive to Maeve and she was meek and long-suffering.

* things I look for in fanfic:

Maeve being dominant in bed, but also Maeve being afraid of HL. The fics that pull off both of those aspects really rev me up. Also, it’s not a requirement but I’ve been delighted by the percentage of fics for this pairing that involve a pegging element— not a necessity by any means, but makes me feral.

* Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: 

Maeve can be with Elena if that makes her happy (maybe this is my own problem but I wish Elena were written as a more interesting character. I didn’t quite feel the chemistry.) I loved Maeve with Butcher, even though it came out of left field— but it would have been an interesting endgame, imo. For HL… he probably needs to end up with someone who genuinely loves him. Which might be impossible if he doesn’t get depowered. He’s going to have to be single dad parenting Ryan :/

* My happily ever after for them:

Homelander harvests her eggs and makes super babies via surrogate…. Juuuuust kiddingggg. I would have loved if Maeve never broke up with him but stayed on as the jaded, cool kid vaping in the bathroom while HL tries to reason with her and please her with romantic gestures, and never dumps her even though she’s undermining his clean cut earnest image and costing him points.

* who is the big spoon/little spoon:

I love HL being possessive of her, hovering around her, coming up behind her, trying to get into her space (Clarification: don’t condone irl, just compelling dynamic). He’s the big dumb eager spoon that her little spoon has to stave off periodically.

* what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

Apparently he liked weekend getaways to Europe with her. I think HL is into the glitz and PR of the relationship. But Maeve didn’t really enjoy any of that. I’d love to have had a glimpse into what HL references as understanding what it’s like for one another, being lonely at the top of the fame pyramid. Did they have quiet nights in where they watched movies and ate ice cream straight out of the pint container? We’ll probably never know from canon.

[thcrealheroes]

“Don’t say you love me.” / butcher to annie

clearing out memes || @vghtsupes

ANNIE HAD ALMOST LOST IT THERE, LOOKING AT HIM, FILLED WITH DISBELIEF ! An irritated scoff left her; she was suddenly tired of people telling her what she could or couldn't do, how she should feel, how not to feel. Smile pretty for the camera or don't show breast, show breast- don't this, don't that ! And now he is telling her how to control her feelings and hold on to her confession for what ? For his sake ? She is just so done with everything and everyone, --including him, especially him. Didn't he know he made a place within her HEART ? Forever, his name will be embedded into her very soul; his scent wrapped around her like her favorite blanket. The way Billy's kisses breathe air into her lungs. And though he can't leave marks on her flesh, she feels the warmth of his hands searing through her flesh and to her bones. And why ? Because she loves him, and though he doesn't want to hear it, that just isn't up to him, and it will never be up to him. " You don't get to decide what leaves my mouth; you don't get to tell me how I should feel or what I shouldn't feel. Nobody controls me. Not you, not my mother, not Homelander, and not Vought. I am my own person, and I can say whatever the FUCK I want. " She wishes to smack him; he's all coked up on TEMP V, so it's not like he can't endure a little ass-whooping to begin with. But Annie didn't come all the way over here to fight him-- though he deserves it.

Hughie had told Annie about Butcher planning to go with Soldier Boy and head to Vought to take down Homelander—which was suicidal ! She had a head start looking for Butcher and Soldier Boy, didn't wait on Hughie or M.M, or Maeve, just left on her own, not knowing where the future would take them after all this. Or if they had a future waiting for them. It felt too unreal to see him here again after everything that happened between them. And he doesn't deserve her kindness; he doesn't deserve her at all-- he's BROKEN HER HEART TOO MANY TIMES; she accepts it may be beyond repairs at this point, shattered into a million pieces, gradually hardening and becoming nothing. Yet-- the love she held up Butcher didn't want to die away. She loved the feeling of being in love- how wholesome and captivating it was. How wonderful it made her feel. How good she knew she could make him feel.

" I love you. " ANNIE SAYS IT SOFTLY, A MERE WHISPER THAT HELD SO MUCH POWER in just three words. A step forward, her eyes glazed and sorrow washing over her features. " You... God, you are such a- a fucking asshole; I- I love you. I can't help what I feel. " Annie shrugs, a bitter laugh as she tugs on the sleeves of her sweater to use it to wipe away the unwanted tears that leave salted stains on her flushed cheeks. THE BLONDE is standing arm's length away from him now; she can FEEL THE POWER OF TEMP V radiating off of him. " - You hurt me so many times... called me Homelander's whore, pushed me away and had sex with Maeve... chose Soldier Boy over me when I told you that this was a bad idea. Taking Temp V when I told you it would kill you... and now this- you're going to go and fight Homelander... you and Soldier Boy ? That's- that's fucking insane. I mean- I... " A hand on her hip, the other hand pressed firm against her forehead as she feels the frustration drowning her. " ... And I shouldn't care, and I shouldn't be here-- BUT I AM. Because I love you, Billy. I used to despise you because of your selfishness, your cockiness, and your hatred for supes. You made me want to BEAT THE SHIT out of you, still do. " She offers a playful grin, hands reaching then as if to grab his hands, but she reaches to cup his face for a moment instead, her eyes locking with his. " ... I saw you and understood why Becca loved you as much as she did... because you are so easy to love, whether you believe it or not. I just had to tell you how I felt because... just because. "

[angelfacedarling]

Misty can’t help but tense up hearing John softly scold her for taking V. She feels a little sad, even a little upset that he’d consider her acts for him careless. She did what she had to for love. For him. He couldn’t even comprehend what she had to do to get to him. Nobody else was coming to his rescue.. She only nods and softly turns to face the window. Biting the insides of her mouth. Holding back from arguing her case but also the from crying like she’d always done before. It wasn’t the time or place for it.

She does listen in on the two mens bantering. The mention of Soldier Boy does strike John, she can feel it in his voice. Not even having to look over to see he’s probably red in the face.

Calvins words do gather Misty in a way where she finally turns back to face them. Looking down at the passports that’d been thrown between them. Her hands pick one up quickly, examining it all over. Her own. With her brand new name. New information she’d have to get used to. To memorize for her fake identity. When did he have the time to plan this? Was this his game all along?

“Calvin.. this is *more* than generous.. how did you..” Misty looks up at him in the mirror, their eyes meeting for a moment. She doesn’t know how to feel- what to choose. She wouldn’t mind traveling the world with John- going anywhere and everywhere their hearts desired. But.. she had injected the V and planned revenge for so long.. She was still upset she’d passed up the opportunity to kill Butcher. Now everyone just got to.. get away? Move along like nothing happened to John? It’s not fair.

“Angel.. I never thought I would have powers like this.. I thought I would always be a weak human, watching from the sidelines as everyone else saved the world but- now that I have these powers, I want revenge. I want to kill whoever was behind doing this to you baby..” Misty’s attention turns to John as she knits her eyebrows together in a pleading way. As if revenge would wash away all that’d been done to Homelander. The kidnapping, the blindsiding, the beating and planned murder of him.. It was hard to even look at him in this state. Battered and beaten down. A busted lip and covered in purple markings. It was enough to ignite an anger in her unknown to man. A Woman’s Rage.

Calvin looked at the two in the mirror above him, biting the insides of his mouth. This was NOT the plan. Maeve would be more than furious if the two didn’t leave. Like now!

“Misty.. you naive little bunny..” Calvin chuckles, trying to play off his anxieties about the whole plan she was mustering up. Knowing that he was definitely one of those people she mentioned killing. “You don’t need to be playing hero. Get out of here- go somewhere nice and.. settle down..” Calvin tries not to grit his teeth saying that last bit. He had no respect for Homelander and certainly couldn’t imagine his sweet, fair Misty wedding and having a family with him. He was already angry their plan hadn’t worked. He had to improvise now.

“Im giving you the opportunity of a lifetime, sweetheart. Please- do what I’m telling you”..

Misty admired how even in John’s weakened state, he still held her small body behind his. Protective of her- as if he still had his powers. Calvin comes into view, having been behind the wheel and followed them into the woods. But it was to her shock that he’d admitted to loving her. She’d barely talked to him since that evening in the office.. How he could compare that to something like what her and John had was questionable.

“Angel.. we might just have to go with him, I don’t think we have much of a choice here..” Her voice was soft, yet firm in decision. She’d weighed the options as quickly as she could in their situation. Going with Calvin was beating the alternatives by a landslide. Of course, she was curious how he’d found her all the way out here..

“You two need to hurry, we don’t know when they’ll be back here!” Calvin urges them to gather into the truck. His voice and actions showing the severity of their situation. So- without another question, Misty grabbed Johns hand in her own and jumped into the truck with him. But not daring to break apart from his side. No- she didn’t want to give Calvin an illusion of affections after he’d just admitted to John that he loved her. It was a blessing in itself that John was depowered- she could only imagine the bloodshed that would’ve came if he’d uttered those words then.

Her hand stayed intertwined with John’s as she laid her head against his shoulder. Together again with her beloved. A hope she’d held onto. The very thing that gave her purpose. The thoughts of seeing him once more. Even depowered like this, he was so handsome. Same John really, but this hair.. it’s messy dark shade similar to her own. She could get used to this.

John and Misty sat in the backseat together as Calvin drove. Misty still felt indifferent to Calvin’s confession. She’d only wondered how John felt about it. Surely, angry but.. she hoped Calvin hadn’t given him the wrong idea.

“Hey honey..” Misty would say quietly against his shoulder. Making sure only he could hear. “How are you feeling? Tell me everything. Anything.. I want to hear it all..”

[middnightlight]

It’s that time of the month again

I have finished Season 3 of The Boys and here are my thoughts

Jensen Ackles, his best work yet

The screenwriters added depth to everyone’s arc this season, but especially Black Noir, Maeve, and even A-Train, which I think was needed

We went more in-depth into Butcher’s backstory and BRO- THAT WAS A LOT

Poor Lenny 😭😭

Herogasm wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be, but I think that’s just cause I’m desensitized to the show now 💀

That fight between Hughie and Annie was very much needed and they both have a point

Frenchie and Kimiko, once again, were couple goals this season, and once again, were given ✨trauma✨

Homelander...They made me somehow sympathize with Homelander. I didn’t even think that was possible. 

I will say that Butcher did fuck up with Ryan in the worst way possible

“You’re the spitting image of my little brother Lenny” BYEEE😭😭🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

MM deserves better, but we already knew that

Also, Janine’s mom needs to divorce that POS immediately 

A-Train’s and Black Noir’s arcs this season...masterpieces.

Deep...can still go fuck himself.

It’s the way that Homelander just wanted acceptance and love from Soldier Boy, but Soldier Boy was like “You might have my blood, but you ain’t nothing like me” 💀

But the minute Soldier Boy hurt Ryan, both Butcher and Homelander were like “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

The look between Butcher and Homelander when they both lasered Soldier Boy 🤌🤌

Maeve deserves more scenes than what she got, but I love her anyway.

Deep reminds me of a weaker version of Homelander. He wanted all of Homelander’s attention and wants to be his right hand man, even if he’s fucking terrified of Homelander

So in a way, Black Noir was Homelander’s father. He showed him the ropes, kept his secrets. He’s the only person that Homelander’s ever respected. 

Also, the way that Ashley deleted the video file that revealed that Maeve was alive🤌❤️

RYAN, WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SMILE???

Elena and Maeve better live a peaceful life, farming in Modesto

All in all, Jensen Ackles served, as usual, and so did the cast😍

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Well...That Happened...

Reactions and Thoughts For Episode 8 Under the Cut:

Hey, so my initial feeling about the episode honestly is that I'm really disappointed. Hated how the final fight went down. I feel like they handled the whole SB thing badly from the beginning. I feel like they (MM, Starlight and the show itself) put him on the same level of horrific as HL, and I'm sorry, but that just isn't true. (Although I do understand MM's motivations.)

Now SB is a racist, chauvinistic, rage-filled asshole. But HL is all that and a MILLION times worse!! Soldier Boy at least seems human, he's shown restraint a few times. (at least since he's been back from Russia) He has at least paid a debt for his crimes with 40 years of torture. Homelander has done NONE of that!!

Literally, SB may have been manageable, maybe his experiences in Russia changed him a bit. Who knows, but I feel like there was at least some wiggle room with him, somewhere to go. HL has proven time and again that he is incapable of being stopped. He's done every sadistic, horrific thing under the sun, but somehow SB was the one that absolutely had to be taken out?

They could have really used him against HL and from the beginning Starlight and MM acted like HL was just a secondary problem to SB! When it was 100% the other way around.

And what?!!! Butcher and Homelander worked together for a minute against Soldier Boy?

(x)

I get they were trying to protect Ryan, but I felt like that was kind of out of nowhere too. I didn't feel like HL's sudden, unswerving love for his son was earned. Obviously it's gonna be an easily overturned love too, as soon as Ryan does something HL feels is a "betrayal" he'll try to take him out too.

Anyway, I'm glad SB isn't dead, but I just feel like his character was kind of wasted. I LOVE his character and not just cause I want him to fuck me five ways from Sunday, but because I just think there's SO much more they could do with him.

In my mind the only way to redeem things is if in the end SB and Ryan team up, with the Boys of course and take out HL for good.

Things I really enjoyed about the episode:

Frenchie finally standing up for himself, being awkwardly badass and Kimiko cheering him on. 😍😍

Maeve kicking ass and freeing herself from the van.

Maeve not losing sight of the mission and kicking HL's ass.

Maeve faking her death and getting to go live a powers-free life with Elena.

Ashley helping her get away with it.

Noir's death scene literally made me cry. Obviously he's done some truly awful things too, but I really liked his character, and to watch his little woodland friends comfort him as he died just ripped my heart out. But that whole scene between HL and BN was incredibly well-done.

The scene between Butcher and SB talking about SB's father, and how it shows there's more than one kind of abuse. Jensen's INCREDIBLE acting in that scene.

Hughie making the right decision, not taking the V, and HELPING Starlight instead of trying to save her.

MM's scene with Janine. That was absolutely beautiful and a PERFECT example of what real strength and masculinity looks like. It was truly wonderful, when Janine puts her hand over his to help stop the ticks, and says, "You're my hero, Daddy." Ugh!!! ALL the tears! 😭😭😭

This line from Hughie when he's talking about his Dad, "He wasn't weak. I just...I didn't know what strength was." Truth. Hughie speaking absolute truth!

Starlight officially joining the boys, although I've disagreed with her and found her incredibly frustrating for most of the season. 😄😄

I've loved this season, overall, and even though I didn't like what went down in the end (If we need more proof that they went after the wrong fucking Supe, we can look to HL's actions in the final scene and the beginning of Ryan's corruption!) I'm still VERY excited for next season. I'm worried about Butcher, of course. I feel like the only way to save him might be to give him real V. Which will be an interesting dilemma for him! And we've got Neuman as the candidate for VP, yikes!!

So, bring on S4.

[bensbennies]

THOUGHTS ON THE BOYS SEASON 3 EPISODE 5!!!

KIMIKO SPOKE KIMIKO SPOKE KIMIKO SPOKE KIMIKO SPOKE

Butcher and Hughie: It’s interesting that after the V left Butcher’s system, he was shown to be concerned for Kimiko and to prioritize getting her stable over hunting Soldier Boy (even though we already know what he was planning from the moment in the van getaway when he thought back on what Soldier Boy did to Kimiko). Yet we don’t see the same concern from Hughie still. His focus instead goes immediately to trying to smooth things over with Annie and pretend the V isn’t a problem for him, that he doesn’t love it, that he wouldn’t take it again even if given the opportunity. Overall, Butcher seems more aware of the effects Temp V is having on himself and Hughie. Butcher already resigned himself early in the season though to sacrifice everything to protect Ryan, no matter what kind of person it turned him into. What he feels guilty about is leading Hughie down the same path.

I hope A-Train fucking kills Blue Hawk and this is actually a real wake up call for him of some sort. 

Hughie and Annie: The writers have been using Annie opening jars for Hughie as a metaphor for his feelings of powerless, but I think there’s another obvious angle here. Traditionally, women ask men to open jars that they can’t seem to open. The reversal in Hughie and Starlight’s relationship is also, I can’t help but feel, meant to symbolize that Hughie feels emasculated in his relationship with Annie... in other words, the writers are nodding toward this being another storyline about toxic masculinity. The thing is, I don’t think that the writers have established this as toxic masculinity yet outside of the jar metaphor. Hughie’s desire to have the power to protect people he loves, to not be a burden, and to save someone he cares about who is stuck in a horrible situation (and who has protected him over and over) is very... normal and not some kind of “toxic man” thing? It’s just a normal thing lots of people experience? In fact, at this juncture, Hughie’s storyline here comes across to me more like something typically written for a woman about taking back power. I do think the metaphor for toxic masculinity will end up being fulfilled, but in regards to how Hughie loses sight of Annie’s holistic well-being (just as he lost sight of Kimiko’s well-being) in his desire to protect her physically. More than ever, right now, she needs someone in her corner emotionally, and he’s keeping secrets and abandoning her.

FRENCHIE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WHY didn’t you tell The Boys Little Nina was after you????

We know Soldier Boy is meant to represent toxic masculinity, but also note that he is literally toxic. He is literally radioactive and being anywhere near him poses serious health risks!! This bodes very poorly for Hughie and Butcher and Soldier Boy’s potential impact on them. In other words, the toxic masculinity might start rubbing off on them and poisoning them too as they spend more and more time with him.

Butcher and Maeve: Butcher hooking up with Maeve sealed the fact that Butcher would “get in bed with” Soldier Boy (I mean this metaphorically lol). Butcher hates supes, he tells Maeve they should all be killed while simultaneously beginning to describe how supes are just like anyone else—just like him, now that he’s crossed this line by taking V. Maeve isn’t evil, but we know this isn’t something Butcher wouldn’t normally do because of his prejudices against supes, so for him to cross that line, shows how he sees the line between himself and supes blurring to nothing while simultaneously believing there is nothing he can’t or shouldn’t do to get Homelander... This is a bad combination.

I was super surprised when Butcher drugged MM!!! At first I thought MM was being effected by Soldier Boy’s radioactivity as he approached or having a panic attack lol. MM is going to be SO FUCKING ANGRY and he has every right to be. Looking at that one clip from the trailer with Starlight attacking Soldier Boy while MM is behind her? I’m wondering if Starlight and MM will team up to try and hunt down Butcher, Hughie, and Soldier Boy and separate their friends Soldier Boy. 

You know Homelander... I graduated in business and I didn’t know what EBITDA was either lol. But this revealed Homelander’s insecurities about leadership so succinctly. He really wasn’t even being questioned, but he immediately perceived it as a threat because it revealed his ineptitude, especially after he’s probably been sitting with what Edgar told him last episode. He doesn’t even know the “supe terrorist” is Soldier Boy sitting there with the power to take his power and he’s already freaking out. It’s only going to get worse. 

Still not ready for Herogasm. o_O

[leagueofdccm]

WHAT IS THAT ACHE WITHIN HIS CHEST ? Why does his heart beat sadly, pathetically for someone he hardly fucking knew ? ' because he is your son. ' a voice in his head whispered to him sorrowfully. the pang in his chest only increases, it's alarming when your emotions decide to kick you in the nuts and wrap you in a chokehold. Specifically when he's trying to let go of the knowledge of Homelander being his flesh and blood. He constantly has to remind himself of what Butcher said about his son--- that his son wasn't his, to begin with. He never had the opportunity to hold him as a baby, witness his first steps, or teach him his first words. He never experienced the delight of hearing his son call him ' dada ', he didn't get to do any of those things with Homelander--- shit, he didn't even know his name.... the urge is strong. But he knows once he gets a name for Homelander he doesn't think he'll be able to destroy him.  

His growl reverberates through the room, his grip on Homelander's jaw TIGHTENING with each passing moment. MEMORIES OF WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN flash before his eyes as Soldier Boy's hand trembles while forcing Homelander's head further back. His lips are pressed firmly in a tight, thin line, teeth clenched, and his heart races against his ribcage. Doesn't even activate the blast in his chest that he was implied to use against his son, doesn't even attempt to land a punch, a headbutt--- anything. THE FIGHT IS THERE, it's fucking there but he is struggling at the moment, and it's just pissing him off at how much of a pussy he's being. Their eyes meet and he can't fully tell what emotions are in Homelander's face, he can't entirely read his eyes--- doesn't want to, if he's being honest because he knows.

Opening his mouth to speak again, wanting to TAUNT his son, and provoke a fight rising within him. Anything to get a response out of him, anything to give him a reason for the two of them to fight to the fucking death. But all Homelander does is shove him away with enough strength for his hold to loosen. As if he wasn't even trying. ' I won't '-- Homelander had told him. Soldier Boy nearly wanted to plead to him to fucking do it--- FUCKING DO IT. Soldier Boy sighs, shaking his head in frustration. " You have to fight me ! Don't you get that ? Why are you holding back, huh ?! I came here to KILL YOU ?! Don't you fucking get that ? --- It's either you or me... one of us has to go. And I'm not going back into that damn box ! " He throws a punch, and he throws another one-- whether they landed or not, he doesn't know since he's aiming like a MAD MAN with just enough force to bruise Homelander, but not enough passion to knock him onto his feet. 

BUTCHER SHOUTING WORDS he can't fully hear at the moment. AND QUEEN MAEVE observes in silence the interaction between Soldier Boy and Homelander. She seems ready to jump in if needed, while Butcher is already itching to get in there not completely understanding why Soldier Boy wasn't listening, and almost anxious that Soldier Boy was harboring back his strength just because he discovered Homelander is his son.

This might be a mistake, and Butcher might have to consider putting Soldier Boy back into the box if he fails this.

" You need to fucking stop this whole hopeful shit--- It's not a good look on you. " Soldier Boy huffs out while still continuing to hurl punches, his shield raising as he uses it against Homelander. " What is there to fix ? Why do you want to fix anything with me when you don't even fucking know me, kid ?! How can we have something when that was taken from us by these fucking bastards !? Nothing can be fixed... and that's just the real world. You're just a mistake that should have never happened. I'm going to kill you. And that's the end of this father and son bonding time. You're just a waste of sperm. You are so thirsty for attention, desperate for the world to love you. That's weak, that's pathetic. " HE ALMOST WANTS TO LAUGH, LAUGH at how alike he is to his own old man, and he fucking loathes it--- feels a type of way knowing everything he's telling Homelander is everything his father would have told him.

The difference between him and his father though ? Is that he doesn't mean what he says... not really. HE'S TRYING -- TRYING to sound like he wants Homelander dead and gone... but he can't even convince himself that he wants that. With enough power in him, he slams his shield against Homelander's stomach, with his spare hand he reaches to grab his son's neck, back to the beginning, but this time he's not holding back---- not holding back... NOT.... ' he's your son. ' The damn voice begins pleading to Soldier Boy, pleading to him that if he's going to kill him to ask for his name... just ask him. 

" I- fucking fuck-- FUCK. I- I'm going to kil-- " The look on his face crumbles, swallowing the lump in his throat, he's going to regret not knowing his son's name. Even drowning himself in cocaine won't help get rid of the feeling. His head bows, chin to chest, eyes shutting for a brief moment. " What-- what is your... name ? what's your name ? What--- tell me. "

❛❛ YES, I AM! ❜❜ HOMELANDER RETORTED with a growl at butcher's interference, at the same time as his father — surprisingly enough — told butcher to fuck off, which sparked a glimmer of hope within the supe, until the next sets of words that followed.

and for a moment, his father's voice almost seemed to merge with the voices of vogelbaum and edgar's from his past, in his mind. you're a disappointment. a mistake. a failure. bad product. and the reminder, of all the things he had sacrificed just for an ounce of recognition; his childhood for vogelbaum, his blind loyalty to vought for edgar, and now, killing his only real friend, to protect his father from a vengeful black noir who desired to kill him... he had nothing left to give of himself, and still, it was not enough... he was never enough.

and at last, his confident facade began to crack, his face paling ever so slightly as his fears once again became reality. ❛❛ you don't believe that. ❜❜ in that moment, he almost felt like a child again, still desperately clinging onto hope that wasn't there.

and as his father went on, about how he couldn't trust him, all he could do was shake his head in silent disagreement, because if there was one thing he would never do, it was betray family. he knew what it was like, to be mistreated and betrayed by the ones who were supposed to love you, care about you, be there for you, by your side, no matter what, through thick and thin. he knew what it was like to be in a box, which is what his entire childhood had been; just four, cold reinforced, white walls and a single blanket to keep him company. he knew what it was like to be on top and still be the loneliest man in the world.

not that soldier boy had any way of knowing any of that since they'd never had the chance to get to know each other before now... but if he'd just give him a chance — the chance to prove that he was his son not only by blood, that he was worthy of it. if he'd just...

❛❛ if you'll just LISTEN TO ME for one mome- ❜❜ he tried, when his dad tried to cut the conversation short, wanting to tell him how much he could relate, and how WRONG he was in thinking that he wanted to use him. ( as if he couldn't deal with butcher and co on his own. ) though before he could finish the sentence, fingers grabbed his jaw VIOLENTLY, forcing his head to tilt back with a strength that nearly matched his own.

' fucking fight me. '

a sharp breath was drawn, one of surprise, of shock. he'd been here so many times before as a kid, another supe grabbing onto him like he was a ragdoll, trying to PROMPT him to fight, when all it did was SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF HIM, over and over, until he finally broke and fought back, only to realize he'd had the upper hand all along. that he shouldn't fear them — they should fear him.

but this was different. this wasn't just some random supe coming at him. this was his dad. how could he fight back, knowing that? he had to give it to william; he'd found an effective weakness to weaponize against him. eyes briefly flickered over to butcher on the sidelines, knowing fully well this is exactly what he'd planned for, hating him for it.

wincing more so in emotional pain than physical, he looked back at his dad again, pleadingly. ❛❛ i won't, ❜❜ he breathed out, before using his hands to SHOVE HIM BACK, away from himself, but that's also all he did. refusing to fight back, hoping that would show him it wasn't too late to be a family.

if worse came to worst, he would fight, because he still had ryan waiting for him back home, and he refused to be beat now that he finally had someone to care about, someone who needed him. but he hoped it wouldn't come to that; having to choose between his own father and his own son. his stance became more defensive now, ready to block or move out of the way of any attacks his father might throw at him next. ❛❛ don't do this. it's not too late to fix things. ❜❜