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munsons-hellfire · 9 months ago

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Forever Together 2 | Ploy!Bat Boys

SUMMARY: You struggle to come to terms with the battle against Hybern. But Feyre’s pregnancy looms over everyone. And while everyone is worried about her and the babe with wings your mates are worried about you and the state you’ve been left in.

PAIRINGS: Bat Boys x Reader

CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of trauma, mentions of war, mentions of death, lying, the inner circle, cliff hanger

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This post is out a little late, mainly because I couldn't post it while I was at work as I did not have my laptop. It's looking like this is turning into a series if I can't get everything finished in part 3. I really don't want to rush it so it might be turning into a series. If you wish to be tagged in the next part let me know in the comments.

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

Feyre is pregnant. You were happy for her and Ryder, you knew they deserved it after all the trouble they’d gone through just to be with each other. Since the war had ended you and your mates had not yet accepted the bond fully. Cassian and Azriel were on missions and you and Rhysand were working hard with the other High Lords to come to an agreement on the treaty. Right now that was the least of your concerns.

You were curled up on Rhysand’s lap, your head rested on his chest while his arms were draped around your body. Cassian and Azriel had found it hard to keep their eyes off their mates. It had been hard to separate you from Rhy’s side as of late. Though the High Lord wasn’t complaining. Everyone was in the room in your home that Rhys had built after the war. It was nice to be able to come home to the three males. Feyre and Ryder had a home built right next to yours.

Right now they were discussing whether they should tell Lucien about his true heritage. You didn’t agree with them in the slightest, and their reasoning for not wanting to tell him was starting to anger you. You knew you were pushing it down the bond, you knew that Rhys, Cass, and Az could feel everything you were sending them. It wasn’t fair to Lucien to be kept in the dark about who his father really was.

You felt differently towards this whole conversation, you wanted to know what it was like to truly have a brother. And Lucien was your brother, he was your half-brother; but still he was blood nonetheless. And you knew he deserved to know. You had disliked how they all had treated him in the aftermath of what Hybern had done to Nesta and Elain. You knew he wasn’t in the right, but he didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting.

You felt an unbearable headache coming on, you’d have to stop at Madja to see if she’d have anything for the pain, and maybe you’d get a sleeping tonic to hopefully allow you to at least get one peaceful sleep without nightmares. The constant arguing was starting to get on your nerves. Finally you had enough and stood up from Rhy’s lap. You already missed his warmth and wanted to crawl back into his lap.

”Are you ok, love?” Azriel questioned, his brow lifted as he leaned forward in his seat next to Cassian. His hazel eyes were glued to you. There was a trace of worry in his features.

”This isn’t right.” You mumbled, walking to the center of the room. You wrapped your arms around your body as all eyes were now on you. “I don’t think this should be kept from him.”

”Y/N, Lucien is in the human lands, one secret won’t hurt him.” Rhy’s soft voice swam through your pointed ears. Shock fell upon your features as you stared at your mate.

”No, I won’t have it.” You glared at him, at the male who had made you his High Lady.

”Why? Why are you so eager to tell that male?” Amren asked, her eyes blazing brightly as she stared at you.

”Because he deserves to know his father.” You paused, closing your mouth. You were trying so hard to hold back the tears but waves were crashing into you like you weren’t made of stone. “Because I deserve a brother who loves me, and doesn’t treat me like shit, one who didn’t get my mother killed. I deserve better than those Illyrian bastards I was forced to call brothers. Most importantly, Lucien deserves a family who loves him for him and not who he sided with.”

The hurt was evident in your voice as you spoke to them. You couldn’t stand it anymore. All their eyes on you. Taking a deep breath in to calm yourself, then you released it. Turning away from them you quickly walked out of the room heading to your shared room with Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel. All of whom had exchanged a concerned look with each other.

”I think it’s best if we come back to this matter on a later day.” Rhys said, as he stood from his chair and walked out of the living room heading down the hallway. Cassian and Azriel would see to it that everyone left and then they’d join you and Rhys.

When you made it to the bedroom you collapsed into the bed and pulled the covers over your head. You didn’t understand why this was something that needed to be discussed. Lucien deserved to know that Helion was his father, that you were his half-sister. You deserved so much and so did he. You pressed your eyes closed tightly when you heard the door open. You weren’t in the mood to talk to any of them tonight, not while the emotions were still fresh in your mind.

You felt Rhys press his body into you, his arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you and the cover closer to him. His chin rested on top of your hair, slowly you started to remove the cover from the top half of your body. Just as Cassian and Azriel walked into the room. You felt the bed dip again. Cassian was on the other side of you and Azriel was behind Rhys.

Since coming home from the war you had curled up next to Rhys at night, while Cassian and Azriel would often switch which side of the bed they slept on. Rhy’s violet eyes found yours, he pulled his hand up and rested it on your cheek.

“Do you want to talk about whatever is bothering you darling?” Rhys asked, his voice so soft. You shook your head, Rhys’ hand moving with your movement.

“Not tonight, I-I can’t.” Your lips were trembling as more fresh tears fell down your face.

“We’ll talk about it when you're ready sweetheart.” Cassian was the next to speak, he nudged his head into your neck and breathed in your sweet scent.

“Get some sleep, love.” Azriel was the next to speak. You once again found yourself nodding your head. It was difficult to come up with the words right now. You snuggled up between your three mates and eventually sleep found you but it wasn’t a dreamless sleep like you’d hoped for.

☾

They were surrounding you, there was nowhere to go. And you’d be forced with only one option, kill them. They were now a fading memory, fighting on the losing side. You were covered in blood, your hair was caked with that blood and dirt. Your fingers tightened around your sword, knuckles turning white from the grip. Rhys had reached out to you via mind informing you that Cassian had been injured.

“Well… look at you.” The male whom you thought was your father spoke to you. “You think you’re tough and strong now.” He wasn’t your father, Helion was. Though the other males were still your half-brothers.

“I have nothing to prove to you.” Your voice was venomous as the words dripped from your lips. The male glanced at your brothers. A hideous laugh escaped his mouth, then he lifted his blade in the air and ran towards you. Your brothers stood still, while your own blade came in contact with the male’s sword.

Grunts escaped from you as you fought him off. Your power was itching to break free. It tingles inside you. You ignored it just as the sword cut your shoulder. A wince escaped you and the males laughed loudly, but that was enough for you to lose all control you had left. Suddenly you blacked out, when you came to you were on your knees. Sword next to you as you breathed heavily. They were no more.

But then everything changed, you were in front of your mates. Sad looks crossed their faces. They were kneeling on the ground. Two Hybern soldiers held onto you. Hybern himself stood behind your mates.

“Such a pity you had to be mated to these three batards.” Hybern’s words slammed into you, constricting your lungs.

“No, please. Don’t touch them.” You cried out.

But the words didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how much you begged him. You felt your heart stop when you no longer felt them through the bond.

“No! No!” You pulled yourself out of the bed, running to the bathroom and hurling the contents of your dinner up. You calmed slightly when you felt their welcoming presence. A few of Az’s shadows curled around your body helping you cool down. Sweat covered you entirely, you could feel their concern through the bond. But you knew they could feel your fear.

“What was it, love?” Azriel’s voice was close to your ears. Cassian had his hands wrapped around your hair keeping it from falling into your face while you continued to hurl up the rest of your dinner. Rhys and Az placed a hand on you, both rubbing soothing circles on your back. Since returning from the war there had been a lot of nights like this. But Ryder was the only one who truly knew about your nightmares.

“Bad dream.” You whispered when the hurling finally stopped.

“Please tell us what you saw.” Cassian was the one to speak this time. But you couldn’t speak it into existence.

“Show me darling, only if you can.” Rhys said, speaking in your mind. So you lowered your shield and allowed Rhysand to see what you had dreamed tonight. It had been the same, but this was the first night you had dreamt a nightmare where your mates died. “Can I show Cass and Az?”

“Yes.” You replied back.

You moved to the floor, the shadows that had left their master followed you and continued to glide around your body. You kept your eyes closed, Rhys picked you up from the bathroom floor and carried you back to the bed. Azriel and Cassian followed behind you and him. It was quiet, you assumed that the males were talking to each other, trying to figure out what to do. How to handle your trauma. These nightmares were constant, never ending. You never caught a break, always losing sleep because of the nightmares.

The four of you settled into the bed in the same position you’d been in before you’d woken up. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, tears starting to fall from your eyes.

“There is nothing to apologize for, love.” Azriel whispered, he had his chin resting on Rhysand’s shoulder, and his hazel eyes were on you. His shadows moved around until they eventually covered the four of you. They were protecting you and your mates.

“It’s okay to feel this way. You have gone through so much, and you will get through this.” Cassian nuzzled his head into your neck, he moved his hand to rest on your waist and gently began to move his finger in a circle, a motion he knew calmed you down.

“You almost lost Cassian, you and Az both. You all experienced my death, and I can never take back what I did. I truly am sorry for putting you three through that. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving any of you again.” Rhys made the declaration clear to his mates. “I love you all equally, and I promise we will get through this together. We’ll help you with your nightmares.”

You nodded in understanding “I wish I didn't kill them. I hate that they are responsible for my mother’s death, but I regret killing them.” You paused trying to think of what to say next, you knew that they’d seen it. How you had acted in the nightmare when you killed them was exactly what had happened and even after all these months after the war it still haunted you.

“You did what you had to.” Azriel said.

“I blacked out. I panicked. I didn’t think I could do that, I didn’t even mean to kill them. It just happened and I know that’s probably not an excuse but that’s what happened. Next thing I knew Helion was in front of me and then Rhys was gone and I couldn’t feel him.”

Rhys tightened his arms around you, it still felt like a dream. It still felt like Rhys and Cass weren’t here and it was just you, and Azriel, and his shadows. Since you had lost your wings nothing was falling into place the way you thought it would and right now it really didn’t seem real.

“It’s real, Cass and I are real.” His smooth voice ran through your ears. You only gave a brief nod. Sleep was starting to fall over you again. But you didn’t know how long you would get before the nightmares returned.

☾

The sun shined brightly in your shared room. But you were quickly disappointed when you discovered none of your mates were in the bed with you. Throwing the covers off your body you stood to quickly change into comfortable clothes rather than going for a dress. Being the High Lady of the Night Court was the least of your worries right now. You opened the door and started to traverse down the hallway, voices were coming from the living room.

You could hear Rhys talking, though you were unsure of who he was talking to. Slowly you came to a stop and listened in on the conversation. You could tell that Cass and Az were in the room as well. You assumed judging by the hushed whispers that everyone else was included in the conversation but you. Which only meant one thing, they were discussing Lucien without you.

“Y/N is going to be beyond angry when she finds out that we voted without her.” It was Feyre’s voice that you hear break through Rhys’s comment.

“I know, but right now I don’t think it’s a great idea for Lucien to know. Y/N needs time to process the events of the war and she needs time to focus on the powers that she received from Helion. Lucien would be an added distraction on top of all of that.” Rhysand said.

They were going to keep this from you. A secret. One of many you assumed. You didn’t want to hear anymore of this. You stepped around the corner and looked at everyone in the room. Rhysand had his back to you.

“You voted not to tell him?” The hurt was evident in your voice. Cassian and Azriel were quick to stand up as Rhysand turned towards you. A look of shock on his face, clearly he had not expected you to be awake. “I woke up to an empty bed, one without my mates. So I came searching only to discover that you thought it was best that I didn’t have an added distraction. What in your right mind thought that was best for me? He’s my brother, he deserves to know.” The anger flared in your body and it was evident in the way that your power had started to show.

The light illuminates your body, some have to look away. “I thought it was best! Y/N. Cass and Az didn’t have a say in the matter.”

You shook your head. “I can’t believe you, Rhys. This is a new low even for you. Keeping that from him and Helion would only damage my relationship with both males. Did you even stop to think about that, about what might happen if they found out, if they found out that I lied to them.”

“I-”

“No. That’s not fair. Not fair to them and not fair to me.”

Before he could get another word in you winnowed away. It was the only thing you’d really learned to get the hang of after discovering what powers you’d received from your father. A door opened, before anything came out of your mouth you collapsed into the arms of the male that is your brother.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Lucien questioned, eyes on you.

“You’re my brother.” The shock was so clear on his face, but you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

#reader insert #x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #rhysand x cassian #rhysand x azriel #cassian x azriel x reader #bat boys x reader #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses

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himasgod · 28 days ago

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Diluc x Reader

(Enjoy! It didn't turn out the way I wanted, but I hope you like it anyway! 0.6k words)

Where Diluc returns to Mondstadt after three years to see you, but he is not the same

The Dawn Winery had a mysterious air that night, the wind carried with it the scent of ripe grapes, and the shadows of the vineyards seemed to intertwine in a game with the stars. The light of the mansion spilled over the ground, and there, on the porch, was he: Diluc Ragnvindr, the young Master of the Dawn Winery.

He had returned to Mondstadt after three years. He had grown up, but there was something in his eyes that spoke of a loss much deeper than that of a father. It was as if darkness itself had been caught in his gaze. That was why, every time you appeared to see him, you felt like there was an invisible barrier, one that no matter how close you got, he would not let you cross.

You were everything to him, his partner, the person he left promising to return and make you happy for the rest of your days. However, when he returned, everything was different. He did not stop loving you, you did not stop loving him, but there was a dark change in him. You gathered together every night to mostly sit in a silence that was criminally painful.

Tonight, however, it seemed different. Maybe it was the warm glow of the lamps, or maybe it was that you were too close for him to notice you, lost in his mind, before you spoke.

“You don’t need to carry everything alone, Diluc. Everyone here knows how much you do for Mondstadt, even if you never admit it.”

Hearing your voice, he turned and looked down, as if he was thinking of the best response, but he just gave a half smile—one that barely reached his eyes.

“Not everyone needs to know who protects them.” His voice was low, as if even his words wanted to hide in the darkness. “And I don’t need to be thanked.”

You knew the loss of his father had changed him, but Diluc was someone who was weighed down by sacrifices. He would never say it, but you saw it in the way he refused wine, in how he preferred to spend his nights patrolling, leaving the smell of burning behind him at every secret victory.

“I know you care what people think,” you said, searching his eyes. “Unfortunately, they only can see in you the Master of the Dawn Winery. But there is also someone who see someone beyond that, someone who carries with him every battle and every loss. And that is me, in case you forgot.”

For a moment, Diluc dropped that implacable knight facade. The shadows seemed to be lighter around him when he looked back at you, and for an instant, you saw the passionate young man he once was, before the scars of his past hardened him.

“Sometimes being the hero Mondstadt needs doesn’t mean being the one he wants to,” he murmured, as if that confession weighed on him. But still in his words there was an unwavering resolve.

“And sometimes being the hero also means remembering that you are not alone,” you replied, reaching out a hand to him. He hesitated, and there was conflict in his gaze, as if he wanted to reach for your hand and at the same time pull away, afraid that the weight of his world would crush you.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, his fingers found yours. For the first time since those three years. Maybe, in that small gesture, he had allowed a spark of hope and humanity to remain in his life, if only for that night.

It wasn't a surrender, but perhaps it was a reminder: that even darkness needs the light of dawn. And you were his dawn.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc x you #idk how to tag this again #genshin fanfic #idk how to tag this #genshin diluc

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months ago

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Chapter 27: Take Me Back To The Beginning

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty seven of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 13.3K (I tried to cut it down I promise 😭)

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy. Homelander is a freak AGAIN, A little bit of Oedipal Complex (It's Homelander the man is a walking Greek Tragedy), Graphic depiction of death, Dark thoughts, References to Past Trauma, Angst, Cursing, Sexual References, Family Problems- A LOT of family problems, Homophobic comment (It's Soldier Boy), Past Trauma, Death Mentioned, Blood mentioned. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

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

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/n: It's that time y'all! The final battle is finally here! This chapter was a doozy to write, there were so many things that needed to be wrapped up, but I really have loved writing this series and I really like how everything came together.

READER POV

The building is just as cold as you remember it, the hallways are silent and empty as if they'd been cleared for this exact moment as the three of you make your way into the depths of Vought Tower.

I wonder if Homelander was the one who did it, or if someone else realized what was coming.

There was an electricity in the air like the coming storm, rolling in front of Ben, Butcher, and you like a dark omen.

Homelander is going to get what is coming to him.

Any remorse you had for him left the moment that he took Lou. There was nothing human to save, nothing left to redeem, the only thing left was the sharpened, cruel creature that Vought created from your own flesh and blood.

And if you were his beginning, you might as well be his end.

Ben was walking beside you, any softness that you'd seen outside the building replaced by the cold calculating mask of Soldier Boy, you knew all too well, but this time you didn't fear his descent into the blaze, you reveled in it. For the first time in years, you were happy to see Soldier Boy again, and this time you knew that Ben was becoming this for you, for Lou, and for Rosemary.

You hoped that this time he wouldn't hold you back from doing what you needed to do as he had earlier. Though he did seem sorry for what happened while the two of you were outside, you weren't sure how eager he was to put it into practice.

Butcher seems to know where he is going, so you fall into step behind him, not concerned as to how Butcher knows exactly where he is headed. He stops outside a massive gilded door across from a rather exhaustive statue of the Seven craved from black marble.

The double doors that lead into the main conference room at Vought Tower are made to look intimidating, but you didn't feel anything but anger and fear. Not fear for yourself, but fear of what Homelander had done to Lou and to Rosemary.

Butcher pushes open the doors with one hand revealing a large room that lacks warmth. The last rays of the setting sun send honeyed light onto the black marble floors, dramatizing Homelander's stoic figure where he stands at the large floor to ceiling wall of windows at the opposite side of the room. His gaze is focused on the city below, like a proud emperor observing his kingdom and everything he owns.

He probably believes he does.

You think to yourself, eyes skating around the edges of the room looking for possible threats, but you don't see any. The wall to your left is lined with monitors and the wall to your right also has some, but instead holds a smaller pair of black double doors.

You didn’t know what kind of tricks Homelander had up his sleeve, but you were preparing yourself for the worst. Of the Seven teammates remaining he was the most formidable. You doubted that the Deep could do anything to you on dry land and you were more than happy to turn him into a tuna roll. You were a little worried about A-Train. He was fast enough to cause a problem, but you didn't know how much. Butcher had told you not to be worried about Hughie's girlfriend Starlight, mentioned that she wouldn’t side with Homelander and that she probably wouldn't be anywhere near Vought Tower. You figured that she'd probably gone to pick up Hughie from the gas station that Butcher had left him at, but you didn't know if she would come take down Homelander.

Honestly you were more worried that she would come for Ben. You'd seen her posts on social media proclaiming Soldier Boy as a terrorist and a villain, which meant that she probably wasn't your biggest fan either. You hoped that she was far away, you didn't want to kill someone who didn't deserve it or rather someone who lashed out against Ben or you because they didn't understand the whole situation.

Butcher also seemed unsure about who would be at Vought, mentioned something in passing about his old team that included the man you'd seen back at Herogasm, but you hadn't seen anyone in the building or sensed that anything unusual was about to happen other than your plan to rip out Homelander's spine and wear it around your neck like a fur boa.

"I remember the first time I stood here." Homelander says without turning around. You could see his pristine reflection in the glass, blonde hair perfectly styled and glowing in the last few wisps of sunlight. "I hadn't seen anything like New York City before, hadn't been around so many people in my entire life." His arms are crossed behind his back, the epitome of control. "They told me it was mine. That this was what I had been bred for my entire life." He glances over his shoulder at you. "I would have been willing to share it with you and dad."

"Where are Lou and Rosemary?" You keep your voice under control.

He ignores you and turns, eyes flicking from Butcher, to Ben, to you. "You are so beautiful. When I imagined what my mother would look like I never imagined someone like you. Maybe I imagined you looking a little more motherly." The feeling of his eyes tracing your figure makes your skin crawl. "But I can see why dad loves you so much. And of course why Noir was obsessed with you."

The mention of Noir makes your blood run cold. How did he know about that? Did Noir tell him?

That was another side of this whole situation that you had considered, you had no idea where Noir was. If he had stayed at the Tower or if he had cut and run when he heard that the rest of his team was being killed one by one. You hoped that it was the first option, trying to hunt him down and find him seemed inconvenient and you'd much rather just settle this now.

"Answer her question." Ben growls, the air around the two of you heating from Ben's newfound powers and the smell of ozone begins to float under your nose. He was trying to hold himself back from stepping in front of you and hiding you behind his body, that much was obvious. You could tell how much he hated how Homelander kept staring at you.

You did too. The guy is creepy enough, does he have to turn this into a Greek Tragedy? Did he see how things ended up for Oedipus?

Homelander only smiles, the same one he had back at Legend's, wide and with too much teeth. The smile of a predator before it catches it's prey, pretty until its teeth latch onto your throat.

He's very confident for someone who has no chance of taking down both of us. Then again, maybe he feels that way because he has the two people in the world who mean everything to me.

You strain your hearing to find Lou and Rosemary, but you can't hear them. There's a low buzz being projected through the building that makes it impossible for you to hear anything else.

Interesting that he's willing to handicap us even if it handicaps him as well.

"Hello William, still standing in my way and feeding them lies about me I see." Homelander tsks his finger as if Butcher is a child.

"Jealous that your dear old dad gets along better with me? Or maybe that your mother doesn't think that I'm as big a twat as you?" Butcher breezes with an easy smile.

Homelander's right eye twitches with Butcher's taunt.

"Sorry mate, does that make you angry? That your parents see me as the son they never had?" Butcher's smile grows.

You take this moment to skate your eyes around the room looking for any evidence of your granddaughter and daughter but you don't see any. Butcher was buying you time, but you didn't know how long it would take for Homelander to be done talking and you were ready to beat the location of your daughter and granddaughter out of him.

"Where are Lou and Rosemary?" Ben shouts again interrupting Butcher. "If you've hurt either of them I swear-"

"Why would I hurt my niece? I'm not a monster. She's fucking four years old." Homelander scoffs.

But hidden in his answer is the possibility that he hurt Rosemary, and it makes your blood run cold.

"We both know that you're capable of that." You respond coldly. "You thought nothing of using her as a human shield earlier."

Homelander presses a hand to his chest as if you've hurt him. "Why mother dearest, how could you say that about your only son?"

"Tell me where they are, and I will consider letting you live." You say without emotion.

Lie.

"There she is." Homelander smirks. "There's the woman I know and love. The one I met at Herogasm had so much ferocity, such rage, and pride. I think you try to hide her behind this. When you act pathetic and human." He gestures to you as if that explains things. "Because you're afraid to embrace it."

"You don't know me-"

"Well. The saying is, like father like son, but-" Homelander's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "The woman I met at Herogasm, she's something special, and exactly like me. Not to mention the woman who killed Stan is just as ferocious, and I'd like to talk to her."

"Keep pissing me off and you're gonna do a little more than talk to her."

Homelander chuckles. "Don't tease me." He has the audacity to wink.

"Don't you fucking look at her that way you sick fuck." Ben growls.

"Why? Aren't pretty things made to be worshipped?" His smirk grows. "And if I had someone like her I sure would worship her."

Ben lunges forward, to wipe the smirk off his face, but when you reach out and grab his arm, he stops. When he turns to look at you he looks like he's ready to snap Homelander in half, a fire blazing behind his eyes that you're not sure if it's because you held him back or because he's upset over what Homelander said.

With your eyes you try to say:

"You can rip him apart after he tells us where Lou and Rosemary are."

You're not sure Ben gets it, but he doesn't advance so you assume he got some form of that.

Deep down you were worried that Homelander had already handed them over to Vought or to the government for some kind of deal. It was an all consuming fear, because yes you would fight tooth and nail to get them back, but it wouldn't be easy if you had to fight the United States government to do it.

"Ashley." Homelander says, but when no one appears he roars the name again, with so much ferocity that it echoes off the walls of the round room, vibrating against the monitors, and into the hallway behind you.

A red-haired woman appears at the black double doors on the right side of the room, looking frazzled and pale. There are pieces of her hair stuck to her fashionable black pantsuit in clumps and she's wearing a pair of crimson heels that clack loudly against the marble floors. She's got a death grip on her phone so tight that you can hear the tension of her tendons in her hand.

You remember seeing her before in the background of an interview on t.v., but never paid much attention to her. Ben looks as confused as you do at her appearance, no doubt waiting for her to start lobbing fireballs or make heads explode, but instead she drags Lou through the doors behind her.

Lou looks the same as she did when Homelander took her, still wearing the same pink polka dot pajamas, except now she's holding the hand of a boy who looks maybe twelve years old with blondish-brown hair that hangs into his eyes that you're assuming is Ryan.

The woman, identified as Ashley disappears as suddenly as she appeared and slams the doors behind her.

Probably had the right idea. This entire room is about to become ground zero. Which is horrifying because now Lou is here.

The amount of relief you feel at the appearance of your granddaughter is overwhelming, fear of her being locked away somewhere evaporating as her eyes fall on you, wide and green.

"Lou." You breathe and cross the room to get to her, ignoring Homelander's gaze that follows your every move. You drop to your knees to give her a hug, but for the first time since you met her, she doesn't hug you back. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?” She's not smiling at you, she's frowning.

"Are you my grandma?"

The question makes you freeze for a moment. Obviously Homelander had told her the truth about everything and you didn't want to lie to her again. You knew this day would come, but you didn't think that she would find out this way. If anything Rosemary and you were going to tell her when she was old enough to understand that it wasn't something she should say in public.

You didn't look like a grandmother, nor did you think that anyone would believe Lou if she said it in public, but it would reveal that you were in fact Indigo.

Then again, we're probably past that. You frown at the thought, but it was true. There was no going back. You'd walked into Vought with no disguise in front of all the cameras and you certainly were going to leave your mark here tonight. You'd be lucky if Vought didn't run the story in the morning:

"Payback Strikes Back Against the Celebrated Seven"

Of course in that story everyone would conveniently forget that Ben and you were also beloved heroes, were also worshipped and elevated in society. Funny how things like that seem to be lost in translation.

"Yes." You reach up to push back her hair and she moves her head away, her dark hair slipping through your fingertips.

"Why did you lie? Lying is mean." She whispers, hurt flashing in her eyes. "Did you not want to be my grandma?" Lou looks down at her feet clad in a pair of teddy bear slippers.

"Oh sweetie." You sigh, tilting her chin up to look at you. "I did. I am. It was just easier this way-"

"Mommy says that lying is bad." Her green eyes are watery, voice quiet.

"I know. It is. But you have to understand it was a grown-up decision and we didn't want you to find out like this." This time she lets you brush her hair back from her face. "And it doesn't mean we love you any less."

Her eyes flick to Ben. Ben had followed you over, to make sure that Homelander didn't attack you when your back was turned.

"You're my grandpa?" Lou sniffles.

"Yeah." Ben forces a tight smile for Lou's sake, but you know that he's thinking that this isn't the place for this.

It isn't.

You could still feel Homelander's eyes against your back and you were trying to fight the shudder of disgust.

"Ryan say hello to your grandparents." Homelander calls from his position by the window, his voice proud and filled with humor.

"Hello." Ryan smiles, but its hesitant and you’re happy that he’s at least able to read the room. A skill that his father didn't seem to have.

"Hi." You smile back tightly, the same smile that Ben had moments ago.

Meeting Ryan made all of this worse. You hear Homelander's footsteps as he gets closer to you and Ben mirrors his movement to block Homelander narrowing his eyes. You weren't here for a family reunion, you were here to kill Homelander and get your family back, but the thought of killing Ryan's father in front of him made you hesitate. That was something that seemed too cruel to consider, unless if Ryan was somehow shown how monstrous his father was.

Homelander holds his hands up in mock surrender. "I just want to talk this out."

You stand and push Lou behind you, refusing to let Homelander get anywhere near her again. "I thought you didn't want to talk to us anymore." You spit the words.

"I changed my mind." He forces his expression into something that looks like shame. "Maybe I got a little carried away before. But you have to understand I have been waiting to be apart of a family for such a long time and now that I have Ryan I’ve realized how important it is to have one. I'd never felt that kind of love for someone else, the kind of love that drives you to sacrifice whatever you have to save them.” He glances down at Lou who is peeking out from behind your leg at Homelander. "The kind of love you have for Lou."

He speaks like a practiced actor, his hand movements simple, rehearsed, the expressions on his face calm and collected, but you don't believe it for a minute.

"I know you said that I wasn’t your son, but I am." He says, eyes flicking from Ben to you. "I am your blood that's all that matters and now we can be a family. A real family."

"Where is Rosemary?" You ask. Lou hasn't moved from behind you.

"Please. All I'm asking is for a chance-" Homelander says ignoring your question.

"Why should we give you a fucking chance? You kidnapped Lou, you've probably hurt Rosemary or worse!" You could feel the room beginning to shake with the force of your anger, eyes shifting to purple.

"You kidnapped her, Dad?" Ryan asks in surprise.

You look back at where he was standing. Lou was still holding on to his hand and when you'd pushed her behind you, you'd also inadvertently pushed Ryan behind you too.

"I thought you said that Lou wanted to come live with us." Ryan continues looking confused. "And who's Rosemary?"

"He lied." Ben snarls, eyes not leaving Homelander.

"My guess is he does that a lot." You sigh looking at Ryan. "She's Lou's mother, your aunt. She flew after him when he took Lou. You haven't seen her?"

Ryan shakes his head.

Fuck.

Homelander ignores the question again and changes tactics, his blue eyes turning on Ben. "I understand what it's like for your team to betray you, to stab you in the back, to act like you didn't fight together, bleed together and to act like you weren't willing to die for one another. We could be unstoppable together, all of us. A family. Isn't that what you always wanted dad?" Homelander says the last part softly, enticing Ben to make that choice. "I read your file. Everything about what happened to your mother and it wasn't hard to figure out what happened with your father."

Ben's jaw clenches together and you watch his entire body tighten at the mention of his dad.

It was true. Ben had always wanted a family, always wanted someone in his life that cared for him, that he could love and be loved by, and you had made sure in all the years you'd known him that it was you. You were his family just as Ben had become your family and cared for you. It was hard to not be family to one another after all the years you'd spent together, to not care about him the way you did. It wasn't a burden to you to love Ben and wasn’t a burden for you to take up the title of family, because it was simply true.

You reach out and touch Ben's back to let him know that you’re there, feeling his muscles twitch for just a moment beneath your hand, before he glances over his shoulder at you. For just a fraction of a second you see the Soldier Boy façade drop and you see your Ben again, before something hardens in his eyes. The conversation that passes through the glance you share is absolute and quick, but he understands.

Ben takes a step towards Homelander letting your hand fall as he forces a tired sigh. "I'm sorry." He places his hand on Homelander's right shoulder.

You watch Homelander relax under the contact, the expression on his face hurts you. You didn't think it would, but Homelander looks happy and comforted that Ben was here with him. Content that Ben finally gave in.

In some ways you wished that it could be this way, that Homelander was redeemable, and that you could all be a family the way he wanted. But you couldn’t. The blood on his hands was too great and you had to stop him before anyone else got hurt.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't there, sorry that I wasn't able to teach you what I should have father to son." Ben sighs. "I think it would have helped you. I think your mother could have helped you."

"You're here now." Homelander says, looking over Ben shoulder at you, his eyes misty. You force yourself to send him an encouraging smile. "Both of you are." Homelander's voice sticks a little as he says it.

Something deep down breaks when he says that, because it’s the same thing that Ben and you had said to each other outside. As much as you wanted to hate Homelander, to push him away, another part of you was beginning to unravel, the part of you that wanted to accept him as your son. But you couldn’t because he didn't deserve that. Homelander was the monster that Vogelbaum created, there wasn’t a shred of human decency left and that meant Ben and you had to make a hard decision.

You wonder if Ben really did feel that way or if he was just doing this because he knew you wanted him to.

Ben continues to smile at him. "It would have helped you not to become a sniveling weak pussy starved for attention."

Homelander's smile falters. "Weak? But I'm your blood. Your son-"

"I know." You try to ignore the emotion that bleeds into Ben's voice when he says it. "And you're a fucking disappointment."

"What-" Homelander doesn't get the word out before Ben tackles him back away from you and Butcher leaps over the table to help him.

Ryan stiffens behind you as they do this and you look at him. "Dad?" Ryan whispers.

Lou gasps and touches the end of your shirt in fear, watching Homelander fight Butcher and Ben back, his eyes glowing an ominous red.

You open your mouth to say something to her and Ryan, but you feel a sharp pressure on the back of your neck and hear a high pitched snap. You turn your head to look to your right and see Black Noir standing there, a broken syringe that holds a clear liquid in his right hand. The tip snapped when he had tried to press it into your body, unaware that your newfound power meant that nothing could break your skin.

"Ryan, please take Lou out of here. I don't want her to see this." You say calmly, not looking away from Noir, who lowers the syringe slowly in shock.

"But-" Ryan begins to say.

"Do it now." You order turning your body to face Noir. "Hello Earving. Long time no see."

Noir takes a small step backward realizing his mistake as Ryan pulls Lou to the doors on the other side of the room.

You hear Noir try to form a word, nothing more than an awkward click and a wheezing sound. "Sorry I can't hear you." You smile cruelly at him.

"I’d say you look good but, Ben really fucked you up pretty good didn't he?" You look through the mask with your x-ray vision, seeing just how messed up Noir is underneath. "It's a miracle that you're alive. That any of you got out of there alive."

Noir drops the syringe and pulls a knife, the blade shining in the fluorescent lights.

"You know, if the syringe didn't work, I don't think the knife will either." You begin to say, but he's undeterred.

He lunges forward sweeping the blade in a deadly arch aiming for your neck, but you catch his wrist. “If I had been there you all would have suffered.” You turn his wrist at an awkward angle, listening to the sharp cracking of bone as it snaps and Noir’s wheeze of pain.

Behind you, you could hear the telltale sound of punching and crashing, but you don’t look away from Noir, trusting that Ben and Butcher have it under control.

"Before I killed Countess I had to listen to her go on and on about how proud she was about that day, how proud she was that you all stabbed Ben in the fucking back, and honestly I didn’t mean to kill her. Though I will admit I regret not making it last a little longer. The Twins begged for mercy, tried to tell me that it was a big mistake, that Ben lied to me." You shrug advancing on him. "But Ben doesn't lie to me."

Noir tries again, kicking his foot up to hit your abdomen, but your hand closes on his ankle keeping his leg extended between the two of you.

"He told me exactly what happened that day." You snarl, shoving Noir back from you so harshly that he lands on the ground. "You all turned on him. And honestly, you got off easy. You're lucky I wasn't there. Do you have any idea what I would have done to you if I had been there?" You smile and let out a low laugh. "Well I guess that doesn't matter, because you’re about to find out."

He scuffles back still on the ground, trying to crawl back, and reaches into his pocket for something. You were expecting a gun or a throwing knife, but instead he pulls out a notepad and a pen and you stop.

"What are you-" You begin to say, but Noir starts frantically writing with his only good hand.

He curls his ruined arm under the notepad to hold it steady as he forms the words on the page, and holds it up for you to see.

Did it for you.

"What?"

Noir drops the pad to write again.

Using you.

"Who?"

Him.

"Ben?"

Noir nods frantically.

Only way.

Wow he is so much worse off than I thought.

Then again, when Ben broke your heart you did think that too for a little bit. That all the years spent together had been a lie and that he was manipulating you and using you because he didn’t want to face the silence alone. It reminded you of the thing your mother shouted at you when you gave Howard back the ring and left home:

“You really think that disappointment will ever love you? Care about you? You are nothing to him, just another plaything. And the day he finally tosses you away, don’t bother coming back here.”

It makes you hesitate again and Noir sees it as an opportunity to write more on his piece of paper.

Set you free.

"You thought that the only way to free me was to send Ben to fucking Russia?"

Noir nods.

"I wasn't some fucking damsel in distress. I wasn't locked up in a tower by some dragon. I wasn't trapped-

You were.

"No I wasn't I chose to be there-"

Not happy.

"I was happy Earving."

I am better for you.

Your jaw snaps together, looking past the mask and into his scarred face. The expression in his eyes has shifted now, to something softer, something vulnerable and earnest. You remember what Stan said about Noir going through your apartment when you weren't there, stealing pieces of your clothing, and stealing your jewelry.

I did everything for you.

Noir reaches into his pocket and pulls out something that glimmers in the light. It takes you a moment to recognize it, but it's your pearl necklace, the one your father gave you when you spent your first birthday away from home. He holds it out to you and you take it from his hand. The beads are just as you remember, maybe a little yellowed with age, but still in good condition. Soft and supple against your fingertips, warmed from where they were in Noir's pocket.

Said I could have you.

"Who?"

Stan.

The name of the man you killed makes your blood run cold and for a minute you feel bad for Noir, feel bad that he believed what Stan said. Stan who told Noir whatever he could into manipulating him to do his bidding.

Stan knew that he was obsessed with me, knew exactly what to say to make sure that Noir would do what he wished. And Noir believed that I was something that Stan could give away. I didn't belong to Stan, didn't belong to anyone but me.

That was the problem with Stan after all, that he thought you were a commodity to be sold. That everyone else in the entire world believed that you were nothing more than a puppet to be used and disposed of whenever they saw fit. It was the same attitude that drove Stan and Vogelbaum to take your genetic material.

But then you left. Tried to find you. Couldn't find you. Why did you hide?

You watched Noir's shoulders slump as if it was painful for him to go through the past forty years not knowing where you were.

Could have helped you.

A chill of disgust traces its hand down your back. You wondered how long he had been stalking you and wondered how many things he still had from forty years ago. The pearls were quickly icing in your hands, a symbol of the girl you used to be, the one who walked around Philadelphia and saw the world in color, saw the good in people. You knew that she was gone, long gone. Not after everything that you'd been through in the past week, finding out about what Vogelbaum did to you changed you, finding out what happened to Rosemary with Charlie changed you into someone different.

But you didn’t hate who you had become. You glance behind you at where Ben is fighting Homelander, ducking beneath the blows that Homelander tries to land, dancing around him.

I love you.

When your eyes trace over the familiar words and see the earnestness in Noir's eyes behind the mask. A part of you breaks for Noir, understanding that his obsession with you maybe did stem from good intentions but the descent into madness that drove him to do the things he did was dark and consumed him quickly.

"Did you know about Homelander?"

Noir was still sitting on the ground looking up at you and when you ask the question you watch him drop his head to his chest in shame.

Yes.

You move the pearls to your front pocket, considering your next move. "I saved your life before from Ben, not because I loved you but because I didn’t think it was right for him to hurt you. I didn't think that you deserved to lose your life over a film role.” You murmur with a sigh “But maybe if you'd gone about this the right way I would have given you a chance."

Do it now.

"No." You shake your head.

But I love you. I'm here-

The next word is just a scribble now as you fling your hand out and Noir's body flies back into the concrete wall. It cracks around him as you increase the pressure and he begins to fold in on himself.

"If you really loved me Earving, you wouldn't have let them do that to me." Your voice sounds hollow, but you know that it's the truth. “You would have tried harder to find me every day, to tell me what they fucking did.”

“Did try-“ He wheezes in a broken voice, barely audible.

“Should have tried harder.”

"Please-" The word is only a shadow of what it should be, his injuries making it difficult to form it, and through the mask you see a single tear tracing the side of his scared face.

"Ben would have ripped them all apart if he knew what they did. But you didn't, you sat at Stan's table for forty years and did absolutely nothing. You don't get the privilege to beg for mercy. Not after the things you did to Ben, and after the things you kept from me." There’s a purple outline glowing all around him, weaving around his torso. Your hand closes, the subtle glow of purple around his body tightening more and more, his screams sounding more like muffled wheezes, different than the shrieks of pain that Stan released in his final moments. And you continue to close your hand until there's nothing left, but a ball of flesh, tissue, and bone sitting on the ground where Noir used to be. Blood flecks the floor, forming rivulets that run like rivers over the pristine black marble like the roots of a tree.

You take in a breath, trying not to go into the darkness again that surges up with Noir’s death, the same darkness that dragged you under when everything happened with Stan, but you right yourself and turn to look at where Ben is fighting Homelander.

Ben is shaking his head and rising from a pile of debris, while Homelander floats in the air holding Butcher by the throat, looking down at him with a sickening smile.

"Goodbye William." Homelander turns and throws him against the window. It shatters with the force of Butcher's body being thrown against it and his body disappears from view into the air outside of the building.

Homelander turns to look at Ben and you. Ben has a cut on his cheek from Homelander's laser vision and takes a shaky step forward, but he stands proudly, putting himself between Homelander and you.

“Dad why did you do that?" Ryan asks. "Butcher was my friend."

Your gaze flicks to where Ryan and Lou are peeking around the door way that leads to another part of the tower and you're suddenly afraid that Lou saw what you did to Noir, but she's only looking out the shattered window in horror, tears in her little eyes. She liked Butcher, thought that he was funny.

"He was standing in my way son. And we don't let anyone stand in our way do we? Even our friends." Homelander's hair is hanging in his face from the fight, suit ripped away from his chest to reveal the black bodysuit underneath, one of his golden eagle shoulder pads is missing, and he has a prominent bruise on his cheek. "See isn’t that better. No more Butcher to spread lies about me. Now we can all talk like a family.”

"Wouldn’t be too sure of that you narcissistic cunt." You hear Butcher’s voice say.

Rosemary floats into the room, supporting Butcher with one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She's still wearing the exact same thing she was when she followed Homelander, but now the dark sweatpants and t-shirt are ripped and riddled with what look like bullet holes. Rosemary's hair is wild around her face the hair tie that held it long gone, and she has blood flecked on her arms that you’re sure isn’t hers.

But she's there and she's alive.

You weren’t going to ask her what happened, but the wave of relief you have with her appearance obliterates the weight on your shoulders.

“We aren’t a fucking family.” Rosemary grits her teeth together, spitting the words back at Homelander.

"Mommy!" Lou says happily pulling away from Ryan to go towards her mother, who is closer to Homelander than you wanted her to be.

"How did you-" Homelander sputters.

"Get out of that pathetic excuse for a trap?" She snarls, green eyes flashing, looking more like Ben as she touches down in the room, helping Butcher to his feet. "It was easy. But you and I aren't done."

"I think we are." Homelander's eyes glow bright red, letting lose a bolt, it glances off her arm, but Rosemary crashes into him, grabbing him around the wrist to bring him down against the ground so hard that it rattles the other windows in the room.

But as she tries to bring his body against the marble floor again, Homelander breaks free and rises from the ground to fasten his hand around her throat, his eyes still glowing a sharp red that cuts through the room.

"You’re really pathetic." Homelander sighs. "I expected more, but I suppose you have no training or no practice controlling your powers."

She spits in Homelander's face and his gaze turns murderous.

"Let her go." Ben snarls, his chest beginning to glow, and this time you know that he won't stop, that he won't hold back from hitting Homelander full blast.

Homelander ignores Ben, focusing on Rosemary. "You think that you’re more powerful than me? You're not. I am the oldest after all." Homelander's voice is eerily calm. “You are nothing. Insignificant. You waste your life caring for other people and it makes you weak.”

“Leave my mommy alone!” Lou shouts and kicks Homelander in the shin.

Homelander looks down at her, his eyes still glowing.

Oh shit.

“You know, I thought you were cute at first, but you’re really just annoying.” He sighs kicks out with his foot and before you can do anything Lou goes flying out the opening in the window with a blood curdling scream.

“No!” You shout as her body vanishes just as Butcher’s had only seconds ago. You feel your body take off the ground to chase after her, but before you make it out the window, Lou comes soaring back in her little fists clenched tightly at her sides.

“That was mean.” She states indignantly.

Your eyes widen in shock, feet touching back down on the ground. She can FLY?

“Wow. I kinda expected more than you only being able to fly seeing as you’re supposed to be so powerful but I guess-" Homelander begins to say.

Lou waves her hand a purple glow coming from around her fingertips and the large table in the middle of the room jerks off the floor and slams into Homelander like a freight train. A loud “ooof” comes out of his mouth as he drops Rosemary and flies back against the wall of monitors.

“Mommy are you okay?” Lou says hugging her mom tight.

“Yes sweetie.” Rosemary says hugging her back, but even she seems as stunned by this turn of events as you do.

Yes Rosemary had said that Lou was going to develop powers, but you didn’t think it was going to happen like this or this soon. Then again you weren’t well versed in how long it took for supe children to develop them. Rosemary had developed hers when she was one year old, but you were hoping that maybe you had a few years before Lou developed hers.

“How did she do that?” Ben murmurs to you.

“I have no idea. It’s not a power I was born with or Rosemary was born with. Same with the flying-“ You whisper back. “She didn’t touch Rosemary before she did it, but-“ A horrible thought comes flitting into your mind.

The truth was you’d never used your powers around Lou, neither had Rosemary. Lou didn't know that either of you were supes. She’d never had exposure to super powers before today, hadn't watched them on t.v or been around any other supes which meant that she was experiencing all of this for the first time.

And that’s why they’re manifesting right now.

“But what?”

“She saw me use telekinesis to fight Noir. She saw Homelander fly." You murmur.

I receive powers through death, Rosemary through touch, and Lou through sight.

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

She could have limitless power, more than any of us, more than any supe that ever lived. No wonder Charlie was obsessed with her power. All she has to do is see a supe use their powers and-

The fear of Vought and the government comes crashing over you all over again, because you knew that they wouldn't let Lou go free, not when her ability was something like that, something that made her indestructible and unstoppable.

They'd run experiments on her, do whatever it took to try and gain that power for themselves, because who needed an army of supes when there was just one who was able to do anything?

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Ben leans towards you.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.” Ben mutters.

“You can say that again.”

Homelander rises from the ground brushing off his clothes with a snarl on his face eyeing Lou and Rosemary before he finally turns himself towards Ben and you. "I don’t understand why you're doing this."

"Us?" You scoff trying to shake off the shiver of fear that came with the revelation of Lou’s gift. "You’re the one who kidnapped an innocent child and just tried to throw her out a fucking window."

"You should thank me!" He snaps, eyes gleaming darkly in the light. "I unlocked her abilities. Something that neither of you had been able to do. And now she really is growing into her potential." His eyes flick to where Ryan is standing by Butcher. Butcher's hand is on his shoulder. "You really turned into a disappointment too. I tried to do all of that with you and all you did was kill your fucking mother!"

Ryan inhales sharply, and Butcher's hand tightens on his shoulder. "The only disappointment here is you." Butcher's eyes narrow as he stares at Homelander. "Ryan is not a disappointment to me and he wasn't a disappointment to Becca! And it's not his fault what happened to her."

"Oh right Becca." Homelander rolls his eyes. "You've really got to get over her. She wasn't anything special. Practically brainwashed Ryan into believing he wasn't special. When he comes from a practically god-like bloodline. Judging by Lou's powers I'd say that Ryan got the short end of the stick."

"We are not gods." You spit. "Can't you fucking see that? We are what Vought created. We live, we bleed, we die, that's it. Nothing more, nothing less."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." Homelander looks furious. "You were supposed to be my family, supposed to love me!" He looks from Ryan to Lou to Rosemary and then finally back at Ben and you. "Somebody has to like me best! Someone has to love me! I'm your blood! Your son! Your first born!"

"She's said it before and I'll say it again." Ben states from where he's standing next to you. "You might be our blood, but you're not our son."

The manic look on Homelander's face makes you anxious. He was like a feral animal backed into a corner. He knew that he had lost and you knew that there was no way to tell how he would react to this.

“Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” Homelander’s voice is more of a growl now as he begins to advance on Ben. “I am the most powerful super who ever lived. I am a god. And you are nothing compared to me.”

You step up beside Ben preparing for what comes next. “You’re nothing Homelander. You’re just a sad little boy who never grew up and became a hollow shell of a person that Vought filled with macho bullshit until you turned into a monster.” You say cooly. You were ready to fight him again, to kill him, because you knew he would never stop, that he wouldn’t leave any of you alone unless he was dead.

“I am not a monster!” His eyes are dark. “You think you’re so high and mighty? You’ve killed more people than me and at least I do it quickly. Did you enjoy it?” He smiles wide. “To watch the light fade from their eyes? To crush them into nothing while you sat back and craved their deaths?”

“The people I have killed I have killed to protect my family. I don’t do it for sport.”

“I don’t understand why you won’t just accept me! I’m your son! I’m not some fuck up disappointment! I’m Homelander! The greatest supe who ever lived. You should be proud of me! Proud to be my parents.” His eyes narrow. “Do you have any idea what I could give you? I have built an empire from nothing. Dad, you could be on top again, a household name, respect, power, money, women, anything you wanted and you’re really going to throw all of that away? For her? For them?”

Ben's eyes skate over Lou and Rosemary, and flick to you before he levels his gaze on Homelander once more.

“I have everything I need.” Ben’s voice is low and gruff squeezing your hand tighter in his as he speaks.

You feel your heartbeat stutter for a second, because Ben had said and done the one thing that you never believed that Soldier Boy ever could. After eighty years, Ben had chosen you just as you’d chosen him the night he asked you to give up everything you knew and dive into the unknown with him. And you felt the last shred of apprehension about him staying in your life crumple up and burn, because you knew that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was going to love you and stay with you for the rest of your life. If you weren’t in this situation you were sure that you would be crying.

“Fine. If you don’t wish to be apart of it, then you’ll burn with the others.” His eyes begin to glow bright red as he prepares to charge Ben and you.

You brace your body for the coming fight, dropping Ben's hand.

Everything slows down. Homelander's feet leave the ground as he starts to fly forward to kill you, the heat from Ben's chest burning the air around you, and the beating of your own heart thunderous in your ears as you feel your eyes shift to red.

But the attack never comes.

A blinding flash of golden-orange light hits Homelander in his left side, there's an unmistakable smell of burning flesh and hair, and Homelander's body is knocked off course through the wall full of monitors. There's a scream somewhere and you turn to see Rosemary, kneeling over Lou's body that lies on the ground.

And you understand. The attack didn’t come from Ben, it came from Lou. Lou who saw Ben use his powers, Lou who had the ability to replicate abilities through sight, and Lou who was so little that you were unsure what something like that would do to her.

"Lou." You gasp racing over to where Rosemary is cradling her little body to her chest.

She looks okay, paler than normal, her breathing is uneven, and you can hear the frantic beat of her little heart, but she does not open her eyes.

"Louisa?" Rosemary says, stroking the back of her head, looking into the face of her daughter, using her full name for the first time in years.

She doesn't move, stays limp in her mother's arms.

No. I can't lose Lou. I've lost so much over the years.

Tears spring to your eyes as you fall to your knees, reaching out to touch her arm. Her skin is so warm it almost burns the palm of your hand, but you don't remove it.

"Lou please. Wake up sweetie." You say, voice thick with emotion.

Lou stays as she is.

Ben's hand comes down on your shoulder and you lean into his leg, shuddering as tears begin to trickle down your cheeks.

Rosemary is beside herself, sobs shaking her shoulders, cradling Lou to her chest. "Please don't leave me." You hear Rosemary whisper.

You suddenly flash back to the day on the beach that you took the bullet for Ben, when your blood turned the sand to mud and Ben held you so tight to his chest that it almost hurt, and you thought you heard him say the same words as you felt yourself began to drift off into nothing.

Ben pulls you up against his chest, tucking your head into the hollow of his throat, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he looks down at his daughter and granddaughter. You shudder into his chest, choking back a sob, arms gripping the front of his suit.

"Mommy?" You hear Lou's little voice murmur.

You pull away from Ben's chest to see where Lou is still lying, her eyes blinking open, but it seems like too much effort.

"Yes sweetie?"

"Can we go home now?" Lou says. "I'm tired."

"Whatever you want honey." Rosemary sighs in relief, hugging Lou closer to her.

"I want grandpa to come with us." She breathes into Rosemary's shirt, wrapping her little arms around her mother's neck. "And grandma and Ryan." Lou says the last too so quietly that you don't think that you heard correctly, but she quickly falls asleep.

"Okay." Rosemary's eyes are closed, and she's petting the back of Lou's back.

You exhale, slowing down your breathing, still holding tight to Ben's supe suit. Ben's eyes aren't on you though, they are focused on the giant hole in the side of the building that Homelander disappeared into.

Homelander comes stumbling through holding his head. His supe suit hangs in burned tatters on his shoulders, but his skin looks unscathed. There's a large lump on the side of his temple, and he squints at Ben and you as if he can't recognize you.

"Hello." Homelander says it hesitantly. "Um. I'm sorry I don't know where I am. Do you live here?"

Holy fucking shit.

"Um." You stutter.

"Do you know who I am?" Homelander continues taking a shaky step towards where you're all standing.

"Dad are you okay?" Ryan asks.

Homelander's blue eyes flick to his son. "I'm your dad?"

Butcher is on Homelander before you can stop him, tackling him to the ground and landing a punch against Homelander's nose.

There's a sickening crunching noise and a high pitched wail from Homelander, as the nose breaks beneath Butcher's fist and blood floods down Homelander's face.

He's human now, but he doesn't know who he is. Your eyes skate across where Homelander lays under Butcher until your eyes catch on the lump on his right temple. He has brain damage from when he landed, he hit his head, doesn't remember any of this, any of us, any of who he is.

And before Butcher can land another blow you grab him by the back of the coat and throw him across the room. He checks himself mid-air and lands in a crouch, his coat billowing out behind him like a cape.

"Just hold on for a minute." You say.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He shouts, fist still covered in blood.

What am I doing? The thought was also going around in your head. You had come here to kill Homelander, to make him pay, but seeing him like this, unable to tell who he was or where he was, made this feel wrong. You couldn't put your finger on it, but it felt evil to kill someone who didn't know the reason why they were going to be executed.

"Don't touch him." You say, standing between Butcher and Homelander. Ben and Rosemary are watching you like you're crazy, but you don't let Butcher get close to Homelander.

"Why did you do that?" Homelander cries, holding his gloved hand to his nose to stop the bleeding. Tears are slipping down his cheeks from the pain.

"Ryan give me your jacket please." You hold out your hand for Ryan's red jacket who is looking at his father in total disbelief. "Here." You give it to Homelander. "Tilt your head back and press this to your face."

He does what you say, but he's still watching you like he doesn't completely trust you.

The feeling is mutual.

"You're kidding right? He's still a psychopathic maniac-" Butcher snarls advancing on you. Ben steps forward to stop him.

"I'm not going to let you kill him in front of his child and it-" You glance back at Homelander. "It's different now. He doesn't know who he is, doesn't know why he's here-"

"You don’t think he's fucking faking?" Ben shouts, glaring back at where Homelander is still standing, and for the first time you see genuine fear on Homelander's face.

I mean he is a good actor, but I don’t think that he's acting.

"I don't think he is."

Ben pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look sweetheart I know that he might be having a little bit of memory loss, but he's still Homelander. And I know that he is technically our son but this isn't like starting over. You can't redeem him this way."

"You're my parents?" Homelander asks looking at Ben and you suddenly confused. "But you're so young?"

You ignore him. "I'm not trying to redeem him and I'm not saying that he doesn't deserve to die or that we shouldn't kill him. I just think that we shouldn't kill him now when he's like this."

Ben narrows his eyes at the man who used to be Homelander. You can see the gears working inside of his head as he mulls over your logic, but you knew it meant that you had a shot of convincing him.

"Ben he's human now, you saw Butcher break his nose. He can't fake that-"

"That doesn't matter he's still the same person!" Ben sighs as if you're annoying him. "The same person that hurt Rosemary, the same person who kidnapped Lou."

"I know he's the same person, but it feels wrong to do this, to execute him for something that he can't remember. It's like killing a little kid."

"Fuck." Ben mutters it more to himself than to you as he tries again to see your logic.

Honestly, it hard to see it yourself. You had killed a few people over the years, didn't feel remorse when it came to the safety of your family, but this was different. Homelander had killed people, threatened, and tortured others but he didn't remember it. You hated that it made you guilty when if anyone deserved to die it was him.

"Fine." Ben holds up a hand. "Fine. We help him jog his memory then we kill him."

"Okay, yes that's all I'm asking." You agree.

"Wait a minute, I'm not going to agree to any of that bullshi-" Butcher begins to say, but the large doors at the back of the room open and a group of people walk in.

You recognize Hughie right off the bat, one girl as Starlight from her livestreams, the man from Herogasm who tried to gas Ben that Butcher identified as MM, but the other two are unfamiliar. One is a supe, her black hair straight and hanging around her face, but the other is a man holding a canister of some kind in his right hand with cropped black hair who smells like how Ben used to when he would shoot up and smoke whatever he could get his hands on in the 70's.

Well this is either going to go badly or go badly.

"Who are they?" Homelander says, his voice nasally from where he's holding the jacket to his face.

"What the fuck happened?" Hughie asks, looking around the room at the destruction.

"Well-" Butcher begins to say.

"I turned him human with whatever the fuck is in my chest. You're welcome." Ben lies.

You swallow the lump in the back of your throat. The last thing you wanted was for them to know what Lou was capable of. Rosemary is standing now behind you, holding Lou in her arms who sleeps quietly, curled into her mother.

"But how did you-" Starlight asks.

"I held him down telekinetically." You shrug. "Wasn't that hard."

"Huh." She frowns. "But you didn't kill him?"

"He hit his head." Butcher explains coming to stand beside you. "Can't remember a bloody thing."

"And you believe that?" MM sputters. His eyes haven't left Ben and you know exactly what he's thinking about, the night his grandfather died.

"She does." Butcher nods his head in your direction. "And she doesn't want to kill him if he can't remember why he's a fucking cunt."

MM's eyes flick to you. "Who are you?"

"You're Indigo right? The supe from the 80's who vanished?" Starlight asks.

"Mhmm." You hoped that they weren't here to fight you, but the shiny silver cannister in the shorter man's hand says otherwise. "But all of that doesn't matter now. It was a long time ago. The only thing that matters here is that Homelander is human and that no one died."

Her eyes flick to the ball of flesh in the corner that was Noir then back at you. "No one?"

"No one who didn't deserve it." Ben clarifies gruffly.

You could feel the tension in the air between the group of people standing in front of you. Ben was mirroring your protective stance in front of Rosemary, Lou, and Ryan. You weren't sure what was going to happen, but you didn't want to put them in the line of fire.

"We don't want any trouble, we're just going to take Homelander and leave." You say diplomatically.

"Who's Homelander?" Homelander says still obviously confused. "Is that me?"

Everyone ignores him.

"Wait where are you going to take him?" Hughie asks.

"I have a friend. She knows how to handle supes. She'll find a place for him." Your gaze flicks to the other female supe who hasn't said anything since she walked into the room. You didn't like that you didn't know what her powers are and did not know what to expect if she chose to fight you.

You also hadn't spoken to your would-be friend in over forty years, but you figured that she still was able to pull the same strings she had done in the past for you.

"A friend?" Butcher sounds skeptical.

"Yeah. So if you wouldn't mind letting us through-" You take a step forward preparing to push through the group of people.

MM pulls his gun. "We can't let you do that."

"Why?"

"Well for one Soldier Boy is a terrorist. He's killed people." Starlight's eyes narrow when she looks at Ben. "He's a nuclear bomb with a short fuse, who knows who else will get hurt. Not to mention he's murdered people."

"The only people I murdered are the people from our old team, everyone else was an accident." Ben replies gruffly, looking down the barrel of the gun, unfazed.

"Doesn't matter. It's still murder." The man with the gun states, his eyes narrowing at Ben.

This is not going to go well.

You sigh. You didn't want to kill them, but it was quickly becoming apparent that they weren't going to back down.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." The other man says in a faintly French accent, the dark haired supe beside him tensing as if preparing to spring.

"And you don't want to fight us." MM narrows his eyes at you.

Ben chuckles under his breath. "Trust me kid, it won't be much of a fight."

He's really not helping his case.

"Oh really?" Starlight's eyes begin to glow a dangerous gold, challenging you to get in her way.

You snort before you can stop yourself. "Your eyes glow, that's cute." You smirk at her, feeling yours shift to bright purple. "Mine do too."

"Annie wait." Hughie says, placing his hand on her arm. "Just let her talk for a minute."

"Really? You want me to listen to this psychopath? You see what she did to Noir-" Starlight, now Annie, gestures back to the blood stained wall and what's left of your old friend.

"If it's any of your business, you would know that he deserved it. And he started it." You say simply. "But it’s not."

"So what? You're telling us to just let you take Homelander?" She spits, eyes still glowing. "And let you leave with Soldier Boy?"

"You really think you can stop us?" Ben takes a step towards Annie, but you hold up your arm to stop him.

"I've honestly had a really bad week and we don't want to fight." You emphasize. "But we will if we have to. And trust me you really don't want that to happen."

"Then come willingly." MM says without lowering his gun.

"You know we can't do that. The last thing I’m going to do is let you lock Soldier Boy up again in some fucking lab. He's been in there long enough.” You reply.

"I'm not going to let you walk away with a ticking time bomb. He's killed people." Annie looks at where Ben is standing slightly to your left.

Like hell you're gonna take him and lock him in a cage.

"He's in control now. And I'll keep him in check."

"You expect us to trust you?" She scoffs. "You, who also have killed who knows how many people over the years."

"Could be worse." You shrug. "But the truth is none of you can stop us, sure maybe you can slow us down for a few minutes, but it won't end well for any of you. And I'd rather not kill any more people today in front of my grandchildren." You raise an eyebrow.

Annie's eyes shift back to where Rosemary is watching her warily, still cuddling Lou to her chest, and you can feel Starlight hesitate for just a second.

"Look Annie, can I call you Annie?" You let your eyes return to their natural color and wave your hand in what you think might be a friendly gesture, but your patience was wearing thin.

"No."

"Annie." You clear your throat. "The things I've done, I've done for my family. I think that maybe you can sympathize with that a little bit. And Soldier Boy well-" You glance at Ben, who is still staring down the barrel of the pistol with a stoic expression. Honestly you knew he was waiting for you to say the word to take down the group of people in front of you. "He's trying to be better and I'm going to help him, but I can't let you put him in a prison cell somewhere or in a cage or a lab."

“I can’t just let you disappear with him.” Starlight’s gaze is firm, unyielding.

You were willing to kill her if that’s what it took, but honestly you were exhausted. Emotionally. Not to mention you didn’t want to have to use the one favor you had but you were going to have to, to make your friend deal with Homelander. You hated owing her favors, they never ended well.

“We won’t disappear.”

“Why should I believe that?”

"You don't have to, but I don’t owe you anything Annie. No explanations, no nothing. Please just be thankful that this is all there is." You look at the faces of the people around her and stop on Hughie, before shifting back to her. "Do you want their blood on your hands? Because I don't. So please let us go and I promise that we won't be a problem."

"You're so sure that it's going to go your way. That you're going to kill all of us. You might be a supe but you don't know that you're going to-" MM begins to say and you finally snap.

Your eyes shift back to bright purple, energy pulsing out from your body as you unlock the anger, rage, betrayal, and hurt you felt the night you almost destroyed Legend's backyard. The bodies of the people standing in front of you lock up as your powers take control, weaving across their limbs, and shrouding them in the warm purple glow from your abilities, forcing them to their knees with their hands behind their backs. The only one you didn’t do this to was Hughie who is looking at you like you're some kind of monster.

And maybe the old you would have thought that too, but the new you wasn't phased.

Annie's body is glowing now, trying to fight the compulsion of your telekinetic abilities, but you know that she can't break it.

"That's how she knows." Ben says with a smirk. You can almost hear pride in his voice.

"Please let them go." Hughie asks you.

"I will. But first we're going to leave. Rosemary, you, Lou, and Ryan go first."

She walks around the people with Ryan in tow who looks back at Butcher for a moment, before he vanishes through the doors. "Ben take Homelander."

"Like fuck I'm going to leave you-" You turn your glowing eyes on him.

"I will be right behind you, now go."

Ben grits his teeth together, waiting another minute, but finally grabs Homelander around the arm and tugs him from the room glaring at you the whole time and muttering something under his breath.

You glance at MM. "I'm sorry for your loss, I am. I know that nothing can make up for what he did and I know that none of you want to believe me when I say this but, he's changed and he's trying to be better." You sigh. "I didn't want it to be like this."

"Wait you're not going to-" Hughie's eyes are wide and you feel Butcher take a step towards you as if he's going to stop you.

"No. Y'all don't deserve that. And I like to think that I'm still a good person. But-" You let out a breath. "I swear on my life that we won't disappear. I swear that I will do my upmost to help him and make sure that no one else gets hurt. And I'm sorry that it turned into this, but I hope that you believe me." Your expression hardens. "Because the next time you come and threaten my family or me again, I won't be forgiving and you won't walk away."

You drop the hold you have on their bodies when you make it to the elevator where your family and Homelander waits for you and you hope that they've chosen not to follow.

"So, what do I owe you for this one?" You ask Grace Mallory, as you stand on the dirt road, surveying the Upstate New York countryside. The fields on either side of the roads were filled with waist high grass that rustled in the wind blowing from the East, wicking the sweat on the back of your neck.

The sun was rising on the horizon and it had taken most of the night to get out of the city to meet her there. It had been a long drive, but the car you'd stolen was working, for now. Rosemary, Lou, and Ryan, were asleep in the back seat and Ben were standing at your side. When Mallory had received your call she didn't sound surprised. You knew that she probably figured you would need her especially with the revelation of Soldier Boy's reappearance. She knew that you had unfinished business with him and that he'd try to find you.

She looks different than she did the last time you saw her years ago. Her hair is now more gray than blonde, pulling free from the severe bun at the back of her head. Her dark colored suit is sharp, pristene, and freshly ironed.

You'd met her in the weeks that followed Ben's supposed death, when Legend and you were planning your disappearance. You didn't know why she helped you make a fake ID and smuggle you out of the city, but she had. The favor you owed her had been collected when Rosemary went off to college, a little supe problem that Mallory's team couldn't handle. Off the books of course. You hadn’t been recognizable and you knew that no one would be able to find you.

"I'll send you my bill." Her smile is tight-lipped, but it's still there. You knew she hated supes, and sometimes you think that she tried to hate you, but you were too much alike.

"The same I'm guessing."

"Maybe." She shrugs watching the other officers escort Homelander into the vehicle.

His nose didn't look much better, it was swollen and purple because no one had set it, and he was wearing a pair of gym shorts and an oversized t-shirt that said "Ask Me About My Cats" on it. It was all you could find at the gas station Ben had stopped at in the middle of nowhere. Technically all of you had to change, especially Rosemary who's clothes were still riddled with holes and with blood splatter. You had a few splashes of blood from Noir, but not nearly as much as her. You knew that the two of you would talk about what happened to her soon, but not right now.

A bird soars overhead and joins another on the power lines hanging above the street, squawking as it settles down.

"Figures. Can't we just call this a favor for an old friend?"

"I guess I should be thanking you. Taking down Homelander, that's pretty impressive. Can't believe Butcher let you walk away with him like that." Mallory says, pressing her lips into a tight line.

Her eyes flick to where Ben is standing beside you. He hadn't said much since he pulled up, still trying to take in everything that had happened last night. You knew she wasn't ecstatic about seeing him again, the last time she saw him she'd told you about after you'd helped her out with her little supe problem and she'd asked you to join her for a beer. You didn't drink it, but you'd sat with her anyway.

When she'd gotten out of the car as you pulled up you'd heard him mutter "is that captain lesbo?" under his breath and it was the first time you'd genuinely laughed since everything happened at Vought tower.

Honestly, you felt kinda heavy on your feet. The stale gas station coffee had done little to boost your energy level and neither had the protein bar that Ben forced you to eat because he said you needed to eat something.

I better get a long vacation after this.

"He wasn't on board, but I convinced him. His team also took some convincing." You frown remembering exactly what you'd had to do to let you walk away, but you didn't feel bad about it. You knew that it was the way things had to be to keep your family safe. "You're not going to tell him about this are you?"

"Maybe. Not for a while though. I'll give him some time to cool down, have a cup of tea, let things settle." Mallory taps a text message on her phone. "It definitely changes things though."

"What does?"

"A cure for being a supe." She eyes Ben for a second. "Word gets out that's not going to be good."

"Believe me I know." You sigh.

You were trying not to think about the revelation of Lou's powers. You hadn't told Mallory that Lou was the one that took down Homelander, nor would you ever. You'd take that to your grave and if Butcher knew what was good for him so would he. You'd destroyed all video evidence on your way out of the Tower, but you were still afraid that someone, somewhere knew something that they shouldn't. Lou had woken up for a little bit on the drive and seemed more like herself after she drank some chocolate milk and ate some dry cereal, than she had when she used her powers earlier.

She just needs to get used to it. We all went through that when we got our powers. But things are never going to be the same though.

Ben nudges your arm with his shoulder as if he's trying to reassure you that he's there and you're not going through this alone. When you glance up at him, you see the corner of his lips twitch into a smile for just a half-second before going back to his stoic expression.

They really aren't going to be the same.

"Don't worry. I'll try to keep it on the down low as long as I can." She shrugs.

Homelander waves once at Ben and you as he is placed into the black Tahoe. The entire trip upstate he had tried to ask more and more questions while Ben drove, but you didn't want to answer him, didn't want to form a bond with him, not when he was acting completely different. You didn't want to get attached, because one day when he remembered who he was and what he had done you were going to kill him.

Ryan hadn't tried to answer his father's questions. You honestly were surprised that he had come with you willingly, he didn't know any of you, but he didn't complain. Plus you'd bought him a pack of state capitals and abbreviations flashcards at the gas station and he'd busied himself with running through the flashcards as fast as he could.

"Do you think he's really forgotten?" Mallory asks you.

"I don't know." You reply honestly. "I think so. But he was backed into a corner, and this may have been his only way out. He didn't like that we weren't accepting him."

"Hmm." Mallory exhales out a breath. "Just makes all of this more difficult I guess."

"It's always difficult." You sigh just as heavily.

"Yeah. Seems like it."

"At least the fucker doesn’t have any powers." Ben adds. "What are you going to do with him anyway?"

"Lock him up, see if they can jog his memory." Mallory examines Homelander as he looks through the darkened windows of the Tahoe at the three of you, still smiling. "I'll let you know if it comes back."

"Thank you Grace."

"Sure. You owe me though."

"I know." You pull absentmindedly on the end of the bright pink shirt that you had to change in to at the gas station, because your other one had Noir's blood on it. "Try to give me a little time first okay?"

"Of course." She reaches out to shake your hand and then shakes Ben's. Mallory turns to walk towards her car, before she stops and turns around. "What about Ryan? You want me to take him off your hands too?"

Ben glances back at the car where Ryan is fast asleep, his head leaning against the window, hair fanning out against the glass. "No. I think he'd be better with us."

"With Homelander the way he is, Ryan should be safe now." You look back at Grace. "Rosemary has an extra bedroom in her apartment, she can take him."

"You sure your cousin can handle a supe with his kind of powers?" Mallory raises an eyebrow referring to Rosemary as your cousin as she always does. Though you believed she knew better and just never said anything.

"Yeah. I think she's got it. Plus Ben and I live in the city too. I have an extra room in my apartment, but I just need to clean it out before he can stay with us. Ryan will be safe and maybe he'll be able to have a normal life." The thought was comforting. You didn't know too much about Ryan's background, but thought that maybe he would benefit from having a normal schedule in his life and have a normal life away from being a supe. Of course you were already thinking about ways Butcher could be in his life. It was obvious how much Butcher cared about him and how much Ryan looked up to Butcher.

You were going to call him when you got back into the city. You also supposed that you could have told him about Mallory, but when you and Mallory started working together you had both decided to keep it to yourself, saw that it was better this way.

"Alright." Mallory turns back to walk towards the car. "See you in ten years." She jokes.

When the car pulls away and drives down the street, Homelander waves at Ben and you again as you stand there leaning against the hood of the SUV you stole to get out of the city. It was easy to steal cars when all you needed to do was telekinetically turn it on.

"You didn't tell me you knew Captain Lesbo." Ben says.

"Don't call her that." You snort. "I owe a lot to her, she helped me get away from Vought."

"Why?"

"No idea." You lean your head against Ben's shoulder, listening to the cawing of the birds and feeling the wind pull and tug at your hair as if trying to ask you to play. It was a nice day, warm, but not too hot.

"Tired?"

"Mhmm."

Ben presses a kiss to the top of your head, holding you closer to him for a few precious seconds, his arm squeezing around your shoulders. "Come on Sweetheart. Let's go home." He murmurs into the top of your head.

"Home?" You murmur looking up into his green eyes, cupping his bearded cheek.

Ben's eyes are bright in the sunshine, the same color they were the day you painted him at the park all those years ago with paint splattered fingers and skirts. But it doesn't feel like any time has passed. It still feels like him and you walking the streets of Philadelphia together with warm pretzels, him crawling through your window to escape the rest of the world, him and you soaking up the sunshine along the bank of a pond, him and you drinking sour beer in a bar and singing all the way home, him and you dancing in a ballroom with the lights twinkling above, and him and you and falling asleep in the same bed bodies entwined. He's still your Ben even after all these years. You knew every smile line, every frown line, every freckle, every dimple, every dip and curve of his handsome face. His arm is still heavy around your shoulders, comforting and familiar.

"I'm already there Ben."

Ben brings his hand up to hold your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb tracing along the curve of your cheekbone. You were more beautiful than he remembered, leaving him breathless each time you smiled at him. His eyes trace the frown lines, the smile lines, the scrunch between your eyebrows, the smile on your face, and down to the parts of you that you believe are imperfections. Someone so familiar to him that he was sure he would never forget, and yet looking at you always felt like the first time, like he was a drowning man and you were the first breath of fresh air. He still saw the pieces of you he knew growing up, the girl whose hair caught fire in the sun when you painted him by a pond that was probably dry and gone, the girl who smiled at him every time he crawled through her window to escape the rest of the world, the girl who refused to let him be alone, the girl who protected him and defended him, the girl who saw all the parts of him he tried to hide from the world, and the girl who made him feel loved for the first time in his life. "Good, because I'm not going anywhere sweetheart, for as long as I live, I promise to be here."

"I'll hold you to that Benjamin."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

A/N: Whew! Big chapter. Lots to take in I know!! But also really fun last moments that I just loved writing. I'm not gonna lie I was tearing up a little bit in that final scene. These characters have just meant so much to me to write. There is one more chapter coming! I know this one kinda felt a little bit like a wrap up, but the Epilogue is coming next. Stay tuned!

As always, thank you so much for reading and for all the love and support! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know! I know that there's only one chapter of the series left, but I will transfer it to the One-shot fics I have planned for them. 😊

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#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #homelander #soldier boy fic #billy butcher #annie january #hughie campbell

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sansaorgana · 9 months ago

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Can you do a buck x reader where she’s a nurse and takes care of everyone at the 100 and they all think she’s just perfect and a mother figure while all the soldiers are away from that mother figure and one day she like snaps when having to deal with screaming soldiers and she goes up to one the higher power guys and like cussing them out for constant sending the men into a death trap and her having to pick up the pieces and buck has to hold her back while she’s just screaming at the other guy and everyone else is like 🧍

hello, thank you for your request! 🧡 I've just realised that none of my previous Readers in the stories with Buck were nurses lol 😷 most likely because I can't even imagine myself as a nurse and writing about all these things is enough to make me feel sick 🤣 but because of this, it was easy to write this story where the Reader is at her breaking point lol proceed with caution because there are ugly descriptions of blood, needles, death etc.

also this gif asdfghjkl I swear, in the story he has more compassion towards the Reader 🤣🤣🤣

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

You thought you could do it. When the war had started, you hadn’t thought twice as you had signed up to help. Real help. No paperwork or coffee making. You had wanted to become a nurse.

The physical aspect of your job was not that difficult. You knew what to do in most situations and you had learnt how to stop frowning at the physiological body functions. It was the emotional aspect of the job that no one had prepared you for.

Sometimes the boys would come back from the air battles with nothing but mere scratches. They would still come by just to spend time with you and let your gentle, skilled hands to patch them up as they were telling you stories.

Sometimes the same boys would not come back from their next mission and the stories they had told were all that was left of them. You would cherish them in your heart forever.

Sometimes the boys would come back burnt, with half of their faces blown out or their guts bleeding all over the floor. Their screams of pain would haunt you later at night. Those were your boys.

Perhaps that was why you were everyone's favourite nurse. You were getting attached to them so easily, treating everyone as a friend, offering them a loving hug when they needed it, listening to their stories, helping them to write letters to their mothers and girlfriends or children. You were a good spirit of the base and one of the planes was named after you. So far it still hadn’t gone down and everyone treated it as a sign that you were their guardian angel indeed.

You didn’t see yourself as a guardian angel. If you had to stay within the religious imagery examples, you’d rather describe yourself as a mater dolorosa – lady of sorrows watching her son’s suffering and not being able to help him.

Sometimes they would die in your arms. Still, it was better than to die in a burning plane. Better for them. Not for you.

Today was a day of a very difficult mission. Most of the planes hadn’t come back at all. And the ones who had, were full of men screaming in agony and pain. You were barely able to hold it all together when they were reaching their hands out for you as if your touch would heal them. But it wouldn’t. It couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted it.

“(Y/N), you should take a break…” Your friend put her hand on your shoulder. You were exhausted indeed. You were working for three hours straight without sitting down for one second and you were running around from one bed to another. “Go, rest,” she insisted but you shook your head and went back to work.

Only when you noticed that your hands were shaking so much that you weren’t able to inject a needle into a vein properly, you decided to take a break indeed. You didn’t want to cause even more damage by trying too hard.

But before leaving the sickbay you wanted to check on one of the young pilots. He was nineteen years old, it had been his first mission and you remembered how excited he had been about it. Now he was laying on one of the beds, barely breathing as his chest was burnt and lungs damaged.

You were approaching his bed and your heart sank to your chest at the sight of the doctor putting a white sheet over his face.

“Wh-what… What are you doing to Johnson, sir?” You asked.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” the doctor shook his head. “He’s just passed away.”

You just stood there with your lips slightly parted. Johnson was just another surname on the list of all these boys you would never forget about. But Johnson was special. He was the youngest you had known. He couldn’t stop talking about his mother and little sister, about his dog and his girlfriend waiting for him back in Alabama.

Your sadness overtook your whole body and then it developed into an anger so big that you felt as if you were about to explode and bring down the whole base.

“Son of a bitch…” You breathed out angrily as you stormed out of the sickbay without even taking your apron off. It was full of blood but you did not care.

You walked down the corridor with murder in your eyes, making everyone step out of the way. And you entered the Colonel’s office without knocking, so loudly and rapidly that all the men inside startled.

“Miss?” Colonel Harding asked as he was sitting behind his desk and showing some sort of a map to a few Majors.

One of them was Major Cleven. He hadn’t been up in the air on that day but he would be tomorrow. And was the one you had befriended the most. But even his presence couldn’t stop your rage at that moment.

“You can’t just keep sending them to die, Colonel!” You clenched your fists and approached the desk as the men watched with big eyes. “Look! Look, Colonel! Look!” You showed him your bloody hands and your apron. “Why is it me with their blood and guts all over me? While you’re just sitting here, planning…” You gave the map a very angry look. You wanted to tear it apart and you were shaking to stop yourself from doing so. “You’re sending them to death, all of them, they’re just boys! Johnson was nineteen years old! Do you even know who he was? Or was he just another number to you?!”

“(Y/N), calm down, let’s take you outside…” Buck approached you carefully but you moved away.

“No! I will not be silenced. I have things to say and I will say them!” You snapped at him and he froze. You laid your eyes back on the surprised Colonel again. “You just sit here and plan how to send them to death more efficiently. You men… Can’t you see how stupid this whole war is? How stupid every war is? And just because some brilliant engineers constructed planes, doesn’t mean they should be used to kill people!”

“Miss…” Colonel furrowed his brow, “Miss I-Don’t-Know-Your-Name, are you done?”

“You son of a bitch!” You banged your bloody fists on his desk and his stupid map got covered with blood. “You don’t even know my name. But I am the one to patch them up and hold their hand when they’re dying after you sent them to death. God damn you, Colonel Harding! You and all the Generals that you serve! God damn Hitler, God damn Churchill and God damn your fucking President Roosevelt!”

“(Y/N), please,” Buck’s strong hands pulled you away. “I’m sorry, Colonel. She’s all shook up,” he tried to explain your behaviour as you started sobbing when the anger had finally left your body. You hid your face in his uniform and allowed him to put his arm around you. “I’ll take her outside.”

“Yeah, you better do it, son,” Colonel nodded at him. Buck started to walk you out slowly and carefully as you heard Colonel’s voice while you were walking out of the door. “Poor girl… She needs a free weekend.”

Buck took you outside and watched you worryingly as you were catching your breath back and trying to calm yourself down, wiping the tears off of your face with the palms of your bloody hands.

“Here, let me,” he took out a handkerchief and wiped your face with it gently. “Gee, (Y/N), what was that?”

“I… I don’t know… I just can’t… I can’t do it anymore, Buck… That boy, Johnson, he was nineteen… Nineteen, for God’s sake,” you sniffed your tears back and looked into his eyes as your lips trembled. “He was telling me stories about his mum and little sister… His dog and his girlfriend… And now… And now he’s gone. Just like that. His lungs were burnt. Every breath was agony…” You tried to explain, still shaking.

“You really need a free weekend,” Buck pointed out and brought you closer to give you another hug.

It felt good to be in his arms. It was comforting. But you were scared to admit to yourself that you indeed liked him more than just a friend. Because if he would go down tomorrow or any other day, it would hurt even more.

“I can’t… I can’t leave my boys…” You took a step back to look at his face again. “And… And I can’t just take a free weekend. It would feel wrong. When you boys are up in the air, so brave and so heroic. All I can do is patch you up later. I can’t give up, no…”

“We all need a break sometimes. Hey,” Buck raised your chin up with his finger, “promise me that you’ll take a free weekend.”

“Aren’t you on a mission this weekend?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then no way, Buck,” you shook your head. “I have to be here to patch you up,” you smiled through the tears.

“There are other nurses ‘round here,” he pointed out with a soft smile.

“I don’t want them to touch you,” you admitted suddenly as your cheeks heated up.

Why the hell had you said that…?

“They don’t know how to patch you up properly, I mean…” You tried to explain yourself quickly. “Only I know how to–”

But he didn’t let you finish. He leaned in very carefully and placed a gentle kiss upon your lips. You were stunned.

“I know what you mean, sweetheart,” he teased after finally breaking the kiss and caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I promise I won’t get a single scratch when you’re not around.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#euryno-j47 #sansaorgana: Answered #*buck #lilysfiction #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader

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brbzonedout · 5 months ago

Text

Dear Lover,

It’s only been a month since you’ve last seen your girlfriend. Fall season had just began and the summer session at camp halfblood had just ended. Regardless of the fact you missed each other dearly after three months straight of practically living together, seeing each other every day, and having all of your meals together being states away was utter torture.

On top of that as a demi-god your access to technology is heavily limited since those stupid monsters found a way to track you through cellular data. Now those late night calls you so desperately wish for are limited to a goodnight text and a heart emoji on the side.

Fortunately one recognizably dull day in the beginning of July the mail was dropped off your house as it does routinely. Although this time something unexpected came. A red envelope with a small hand drawn shield on the front was left in the box and it was addressed to you.

Dear Y/N,

Hey Y/N, I’m writing this i’m the morning so good morning. I know it hasn’t been that long since we’ve seen each other in person but being away from you for this feels unnatural and talking to you through text and dm’s isn’t enough for me. I was talking to one of the year rounders at Aphrodite cabin and he gave me the idea to do this, it feels a lot more intimate than texting and it’s like journaling which reminds me of you. I’ve been missing you a lot during this week, we’re preparing for capture the flag and it’ll be weird being on the field without you regardless of what team you’re on. Speaking of battle field I finally got my spear fixed so that should be fun to have back. I also talked to Chiron about getting in contact with my mortal family like you said and we were able to find my grandparents! They still live in Arizona and said I could visit and stay for as long as I wanted. They thought I was missing this entire time, insane right? With that I was hoping before I went over there I could stop in D.C. and see you for a few days. If your people say no that’s alright but I still wanted to ask just to see. Going back to the Journaling thing I’m still doing it and you’re right it does really help with my temper I haven’t had a write up since the last time we saw each other. That’s still not entirely my fault though it was your idea to go swimming after curfew. You know it’s funny you’re such a good and bad influence on me at the same time. This is my first time writing a real letter to anyone so I hope you like it, you don’t have to write back if you don’t want to or feel like it I just wanted to try something new. I wanted to just call through Iris but you know she’s busy during the other seasons, just in case she’s not I put a few drachmas in the envelope. I love you and I miss you just get back to me some way, any way baby.

Love,

Clarisse La Rue ⚔︎

P.S.- If this is boring to read i’m sorry I didn’t really know what to say. I love you have a good day ♥

After reading the full letter tears began to well up in your eyes. This was truly unexpected of her. Some time into your friendship one of her cabin mates told you about the the letters she’d write to her mother when you found one hanging out of the drawer. But since she didn’t really want to be found the ones that she did send out never got a response, she never added a return address. Once she grew up and did start adding it let’s just say her mother still wasn’t able to write back. To have received one from her is something you never thought would happen no one was ever meant to know about this side of her. The only reason the single bunk mate knew is because she was caught writing once and the only reason she told you is because she knew Clarisse had a crush on you. She did lie about never having written one but you understood.

Suddenly while wiping the tears from your eyes the raindrops on your window and the sun shining in created a small rainbow that cast itself into your bedroom. Without hesitation you carefully reached into the envelope as not to rip it and pulled out a drachma.

“Oh Iris goddess of the rainbow, please accept my offering. Clarisse La Rue Camp Halfblood”.

With a kiss to the coin you threw it into the rainbow and in disappeared into thin air. Suddenly in the blink of an eye a tall girl with long curly brown hair appeared in the rainbow with her back turned.

“Hi..” You said smiling.

Startled she turned around abruptly, noticing who it was she smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. “So you got it huh?”

#clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo clarisse #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #clarisse x female reader #clarisse my beloved #clarisse x you #clarisse la rue blurb

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vampiretendencies · 2 years ago

Text

wonder how i got by this week, i only touched you once

authors note; hi! this is my first but also not really my first jj piece. i had an old account here but i deleted it over a year ago, however my love for obx has not changed which explains why i am back lols. i am just testing the waters again here, and letting my thoughts go. i also proofread but sometimes not well enough so you may come across an error or two. gif and divider creds to owner. & feel free to send asks, guidelines for those are coming soon.

warnings; fluff, very clingy!jj, & language

summary; if jj could sow his skin to yours, he would.

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

an imprint.

you were sure that was all that was going to be left of you on that twin mattress. not that you were deemed in your last moments of life or anything, but because your boyfriend’s grasp on you in his sleep is not suitable for the weak. it should be described as something resembling a death grip. body tinging with restlessness & the mere moments of having laid here wide away for the past two hours. jj’s body heat radiating onto you at a battle with the sun, that is currently piercing through jj’s bedroom window at the chateau. who knew delirium would gather as quickly as it did, every time you peered toward the bathroom you swore it got three feet farther. hair plastered to the sides of your face, you huffed out of frustration.

jj was damn near on top of you. legs wrapped miraculously around yours, twisting and tangling themselves together. his black boxers riding low, as his waste lovingly crushed yours. the sleep weight of him, was like jj plus two. not to be dramatic but you were gasping for air at one point. his top half, guided by his bottom half. skin sticking to skin, whilst you glistened with sweat, jj somehow still had features like that of angel. well, pardoning the snoring. the abs of his stomach glided against your ribs, hanging onto you as if you’d be gone with one goodbye. the tips of his disheveled blonde locks tickled your temple. mouth slack open, roaring desperately into your ear.

what anyone would be thinking right now is, why not just fucking get up ?

two issues with that. the stickiness of your skin unattaching itself from his was sure to wake him up. anytime you made something even resembling a movement he found a way to force you close into him. and he would never let your hear the end of it, he’d make certain to whine and complain all day about “how you wouldn’t love him back” or some shit like that. he’s definitely more dramatic than you, however this was not cuddling. this was a bear hugging a tree and you were his tree to mangle and rip apart whenever he saw fit.

the other issue being, jj’s room has miscellaneous trash littering the entirety of it. in an instant, if your leg were to loom over the side of jj’s bed the crackling of a beer can or a water bottle was going to crush beneath your foot.

“fuck me,” you silently cursed yourself.

nearly approaching three pm, is what jj’s alarm clock read. you still to this day wonder why such an unproductive, procrastinating type person has the need for one, but that’s just jj.

you’d decided you couldn’t bear taking it anymore, combination of hot breath shelling your ear mixed with the stench of muggy air. you craved a shower, brushing your teeth, to piss for Christ’s sake, and your personalized skin care routine if you could muster up enough time to do so …

wriggling a tad, you pulled back the limp limb that is his arm which has been thrown over your neck for best part of his slumber. jj being a light sleeper, it was stupid of you to even attempt. within milliseconds his arm is thrown over your collar bone, whisping you into him once again. out of instinct a minuscule peck was placed to your ear lobe, his breaths interrupted by your movement. a faint grumble between his lips, signaling for you to keep your ass still.

but, you simply could not. you were going to get up, and you refused to feel horrid for it because jj has had well over his ‘must have’ eight hours of sleep.

“j,” you gulped. contemplating today’s reaction of the constant battle, you blink slowly awaiting his response.

a hm escaped jj’s lips, barely awake but staying awake because his girl never deserved to be ignored.

“let me up,” on the brink of a demand, his eyes opened fully at that, furrowing eyebrows out of frustration.

jj wanted you to save him until the both of you were buried alive. he hungered to be inside of your skin. the true depth of being his girlfriend, you already acknowledged those things. there’s no showering alone, there’s no eating alone, no going to the bathroom alone, you don’t remember the last time you did your own makeup alone. he knew that if he was going to be with someone it could not be just anyone, the dynamic had to work. he was aware of his neediness and constant clinging, you were as well, before you even begun dating you had the willingness to admit you always had a soft spot for jj. you weren’t sure if it was the empath in you and the sheerness of being a human being. he’d been abandoned and abused since he was young, you wouldn’t be the one to return the favor.

the both of you just work.

it makes sense that the passion and the ethereal ache for want has never left, loves you just the same as the day he met you in eighth grade.

bringing him to his now decision as to wether or not he wanted to actually let you up or to fuck with you.

“stay with me.”

he uttered; partially truthful, partially not. he despised the feeling of the empty bed settling in if you were to get up, though he’d known you were due for a piss right about now.

“i have to get up, m’all sweaty and you aren’t helping.”

your explanation was understandable, but he still wasn’t having it. an eternity encompassed in your affections was a dream, and living in that dream he would presume possible for as long as you’d allow him.

“suffer a few more minutes.”

“j, i’m serious.”

he edged a tight lipped smile, noticing the eye roll and glistening beauty of your forehead. eyes inspecting you as though it was the first time. your sports bra adorned just how he’d liked, chest rising and falling faster then usual, appearing as if you’d ran a mile and then some. something so sweet about the scent of your skin, he’d breathe in continuously saturating his senses in the symphony that is you.

“what’s a man gotta do for few more minutes hm?”

he’s atop you now, hands at either side of your head. towering over to make eye contact— a sign that you yearned for him as he did you.

staring up at him, a yes is on the tip of your tongue but you’ve sacrificed enough of your day dedicated to cuddling jj. shuffling his weight onto one hand his thumb dusted past your chin and to your cheek bone, trying to lull you back in all at once. tilting your head in a swift movement, he lowers himself itching to press your unearthly soft lips with his. you did not oblige, smashing a hand to his lips.

“you’re not getting a kiss.”

“then you aren’t getting up,” he chimed. “as easy as that, baby.”

“jj! i am hot, and i smell like ass, if you don’t let me up don’t expect a kiss at all.”

you bargained, unable to win this fight you’d be giving in within minutes.

“well, i for one, like hot ass .. your hot ass in particular.”

your throat ran dry, willing to just do it out of desperation for a shower. the feathered blonde of his hair wavered as his head turned about, with the click of his tongue murmuring a muffled tick tock against the back of your hand.

“one fucking kiss jj.”

you’d agreed, hand faintly falling backward as you embraced him. your lips pucker for a slight peck but jj had far more in mind. the peck tainted his lips, the peck was for hurries only. jj ruled this as a no hurry situation though to you it was past a hurry. when you pull away from the peck, jj writhes his hand around your neck gently. wrestling his pair of lips with yours, teeth pulling at your lip for entrance, and you didn’t find yourself pulling away. two tongues swiveling and swirling just the way jj liked. God, he just could not get enough of the way your tongue molded with his. besotted that they fit together just right.

you break the trance, not allowing jj to reel you back in again.

“gotta brush my teeth now, j.”

your voice somewhat pleaded, a small boyish pout forming. groaning and all the extras accompanying jj maybank.

“okay okay, i’ll give you a few.”

rolling off of you, he gave way for you to do all that you pleased. you grinned his way as he sent a toothy one back. you felt free, as you did all the times before you had to force jj off of you. you could move and you did so at a rapid pace, before the whining begun. kicking beer cans out of the way you seemed to take your first step to the bathroom but that is until the palm of jj’s hand collides with the bottom of your ass.

“hurry up, you sexy motherfucker!”

your cheeks tainted red at his outburst, all of the cut could’ve heard it. but you laugh with ease, at your attention seeking boyfriend.

“won’t be long okay?”

you offer him a hug, a show of infatuation; before you were officially off to the bathroom, with intentions of closing the door. he encapsulates you, swallowing you whole with his arms. he peppered multiple kisses to your forehead.

“don’t shower without me, pretty girl.”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

Text

Leader of the Pack 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: On a night out at the bar, you’re promoted from wing woman to main star.

Characters: James Conrad, short!reader

Note: I'm Canadian so I get a three day weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“I defer to you,” James says as Sy grumbles over a near miss. “Call it.”

You look at the table. Oh, right. Only the eight ball left. You examine the felt and consider every angle. It’s well out of your skill range.

“I can’t...”

“Certainly, you can,” he insists blithely, “I’ve no doubt.”

You frown with tight lips, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You walk around the table, one way, then the other, and back again. Sy lets out a deep sigh of irritation as Martyna giggles into her glass. How many drinks has she had? You resign yourself to failure and approach the trim.

“Right corner,” you declare, though it is more murmur.

You shift back and forth, trying to get the angle right. You squeeze the cue tight until your knuckles hurt. You loosen up as you glance away from the felt and your eyes meet James’. He shows no sign of anxiety. He simply watches. Patient.

You open your dry lips and blow out between them. You narrow your sights on the ball and pull back. You bring your back hand forward and the tip sends the cue ball spinning. You look away before it can bounce the eight ball off the edge.

You back up with your cue and cling to it, the butt to the floor.

“Aha,” James exclaims as Sy groans, “victory.”

“Huh?” You blink and look at the table as the white ball rolls away from the corner pocket, the black ball gone.

“Whatever,” Sy growls, “need a girl to fight your battles.”

“Don’t be a poor sport,” James chides playfully. He gets only a growl in response. “What say you all to another match?”

“Mm,” Martyna hums as the ice clinks in her glass, “I need a drink.”

“Me too,” Sy agrees as he puts his cue in the wall rack, “what’re you drinking?”

He takes her cue and places it away with his own. She grins and gives her order before following him away. She leaves you alone at the table with the other man. Barely more than a stranger, even if you know his name.

You sway awkwardly and look around. Maybe you could distract him by losing to him. You glance at the table and try to piece together the suggestion.

“And you? Would you like a drink?” He offers before you can summon your voice.

“Oh, uh,” your lashes flick. “I don’t really... drink.”

“Perhaps a sparkling water?” He suggests and offers wordlessly to take your cue, “we should let some others have a go. I’d hate to live on the felt.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

You hand over your cue and watch him take both to the rack. He secures them then turns back, strutting over to you. The coned glass shade casts a glint in his eyes and nicely limns his features. You’re all too aware of how mismatched you are. Where he is confident and handsome, you’re reticent and plain. Boring, if you do say yourself.

“Come,” he beckons you toward the bar as he trails behind you.

You lead the way ahead of him, through the bodies waiting for their own drinks, and you stop before a tall stool. He gestures over your head and calls the bartender by name, “Curt.”

The man finishes up the order and takes a bill in return before he nears your side of the bar. He greets the other man with a subtle nod, “pint?”

“Yes, and whatever the lady prefers,” James says.

The bartender only notices you then, tilting his chin down to see you. You give a sheepish grin. You don’t often order more than water.

“Ginger ale, please?” You request.

“All I got is organic ginger beer. It’s spicy,” he replies.

“Sure, thanks,” you agree easily. You hate to trouble him or the man who’s kindly offered to buy you a drink.

You’ve done this before. You bear through the awkwardness of the courtesy until you see Martyna has her catch of the night. Then you find a way to excuse yourself and the men never seem to mind. They're already scoping out someone else.

The bartender uncaps the dark green bottle of ginger beer and places it on the bar. Then he fills a tall pint of golden beer and sets it next to the non-alcoholic beverage. James takes both and bids you to ‘come’. You do as he says. You’re not sure what else to do.

He leads you to a table and you peer around. You see Sy and Martyna. He has her penned in by the wall as they speak closely and nurse their drinks. You sit as James puts your drink before you. You face him and wonder for a moment how he got his fare for free. He never paid. He probably has a tab, he seems to know this place well.

“You don’t come here often,” he states, not asks.

You nod, “I’m not much for... bars, but Martyna likes them.”

You put your hand on the bottle and turn it slowly. His eyes follow the movement of your fingers for a moment before they return to your face. You save yourself from talking and take a sip of the ginger beer. It is rather spicy.

“I wouldn’t figure you the type. In the best way possible,” he chuckles softly, “this isn’t the place for nice girls.”

Nice girls. Boring girls. You know what he means.

“Yeah...” you agree flatly.

“You from the city or visiting?” He asks.

It’s small talk. He’s filling the air. He’s playing his part. Keep the other one distracted while his buddy seals the deal. You get it. It’s torturous.

“From here. Live here,” you shrug.

“Right,” he nods, “in this neighbourhood?”

“South east,” you say.

“Ah, not very far,” he muses and tastes his beer. You stare at the table. You’re tired and slightly embarrassed. You appreciate him being so nice but you know it’s not genuine.

“You know,” you examine the label on the bottle, “you don’t have to sit with me. I can just go,” you glance over at Sy and Martyna as they lock lips, “looks like they’re getting along so--”

“Pardon?” He cranes to see over his shoulder, hooking his arm behind the chair so his bicep bulges and his bluish grey tee strains across his chest, “no,” he turns back, “I... that isn’t-- unless you want me to go away.”

You swallow. You drink again, just to wet your dry tongue.

“Sorry, I just thought... usually...” you cringe and snap your mouth shut. You shake your head.

“I’m intrigued, it has nothing to do with anyone else,” he brings both elbows to the table and leans forward. “I see a lot of types come through here but you... you’re different.”

You crinkle your brow and look down. Your slate gray pants with the barely discernible plaid pattern sewn into them and your stuffy turtleneck under the crocheted vest don’t really fit. You’re all too aware of how you stick out. You let go of the bottle and drag your hands down to your lap, picking at the tip of your thumbnail.

“Like I said, I’m not really a drinker. It’s Mart,” you sniff.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. Truly,” he keeps his attention on you, “did you make the vest yourself? I like the roses.”

“N-no, my grandma...” you once more scald in humiliation. With each word, you just stamp in his first impression.

“You’re close with her?” He intones.

You look at him. His eyes make you want to melt into the chair. He isn’t like the other men you’ve sat in purgatory with. He isn’t looking around at anyone else. In fact, his intent stare makes you squirm.

“Yeah, I try to visit,” you clear your throat and shift in the chair, nervously running your fingernails in a ridge of the ribbed sleeve of your turtleneck, “I’m boring. What do you do?”

He chuckles, “talk about boring. Trust me, I’m not very exciting. I want to know about you.”

His intensity makes you want to fan yourself.

“Just a bookkeeper,” you answer.

“Ah, a very useful occupation.” he praises.

Boring, you want to say again. Just like everything about your life. You look at the ginger beer and frown.

“You don’t like your drink?” He suggests. He’s attentive to the point of discomfort.

“It’s fine, I just... different,” you utter.

“Who do you bookkeep for?” He asks.

You give pause. He asks a lot of questions. Maybe you’re just not used to that much interest, but it feels like a bit much. How would you know? You see Martyna and the men she associates with. They look at her the same way. It could just be that he really is into you.

“A publisher. There’s a few of us.”

“Hm, yes, there would be,” he hums, “think I might know the book house.”

“Uh, yeah,” you give half a smile. Everyone knows the publishing company; it’s the core of the city’s economy.

“I’m rather a fan of their mysteries,” he says. “Have you read--”

“Conrad,” a drunken slur interrupts him and James sits back to look up at the other man. Sy’s eyes are half-glazed as Martyna clings to his arm, “we’re headed out.”

“Ah, yes,” James checks his watch, “it is rather late.” He turns his attention to you, “shall we?”

You look between them. Martyna bats her lashes at you drunken and tweaks her brow. You’re all leaving. Together?

“I’m afraid he’s crashing at my place, he had some issue with his pipes,” James explains, “so I’m afraid I’ll need to let him in like a stray cat.”

“Hmph,” Sy growls but is quickly distracted by Martyna’s hand rubbing his chest.

This is strange. It’s never been like this before. Maybe it’s better that you stay close to Martyna to make sure she’s okay. Usually, she tells you to go. She calls you a cock block. She isn’t wrong. You don’t exactly inspire lust.

“Right, yeah,” you stand and hit the table as the chair is heavier than you expect and traps you.

The ginger beer wobbles and clatters onto its side, sending a foamy wash across your middle. You quickly pick it up and set it right but it’s too late. You’re mortified.

“Ah, pity,” James remarks, “Sy,” he looks at the other man, “fetch us a cab, I’ll get something to clean up from the barkeep.”

“Don’t drag your ass,” Sy warns.

James doesn’t acknowledge the warning, striding over to the bar and speaking briefly with the man behind it. You stand in the damp mess as Martyna purrs at the other man before he leads her out. James returns and offers a dish cloth.

“How unfortunate,” he remarks as you accept the cloth.

“Yeah, I... it’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I hope it doesn’t stain your vest,” he says.

You shrug, “it’s fine.”

“Yes, but your grandmother put such hard work into it.”

You dab at the moisture and look up at him. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you. Your lips slant and you focus on sopping up the ginger beer.

“I wasn’t... wasn’t making fun,” he says, “if it came across--”

“No, no, I didn’t think so,” you lie. You do what you can and ball up the cloth, “I’ll bring this back. Maybe I should just meet you outside.”

“I will wait,” he assures, “I am a gentleman after all.”

#james conrad #dark james conrad #dark!james conrad #james conrad x reader #series #leader of the pack #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #kong: skull island

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munsonology · 2 years ago

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Sweet Plains

A Cowboy!Eddie short story

18+ only, MINORS DNI

CW: Fem!reader, f receiving oral, wind fucking, come tasting, little bit of daddy kink👀 not proof read

Summary: Eddie and Girlie are in the warm fields of the ranch doing morning chores when a different kind of heat creeps upon them.

My first contribution for @oneforthemunny’s summertime writing game.

Posting with 45 minutes left of my birthday!

I’m gonna count this as my first official fic I’ve ever posted on here! Enjoy whores!

Girlie laying in the ranch fields waiting for Eddie to finish morning chores. It’s humid, the air thick and warm like a sweater on a cold December night.

She found the dress in the trunk at the foot of their bed. Bought for wedding and nonrefundable, despite the bride running away on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle.

Eddie paused shoveling the pile of hay to take a gander at you. Your legs up in the air, those sweet thighs tempting him. He was just between them not even a few hours ago. The taste of your folds still fresh on his tongue.

“What’cha doing over there, girlie?” He asks.

You peer around your legs to see Eddie standing there with a hand on his hip. His heavy boot resting on the pitchfork. The buttons on his shirt had long come undone. From the distance you could see the black ink on his chest.

“Just waiting on you to finish, honey.”

“Mmm…Is that right?”

You mumble in agreement. A sigh leaves your mouth feeling a light breeze pass through. The cool wind caressed your skin. Your legs fell open, wide as the open pasture. Bare cunt exposed, you laid back with your arms behind your head.

The crotch of Eddie’s wranglers tightened. He loved seeing you so free, so relaxed. You were a completely different person outside of the city. Monday through Friday you ventured to the concrete jungle for work, battling your way to the cracking the glass ceiling, but out here…out here at the ranch you could just be. No pressure to be anything but yourself.

Eddie squinted his eyes to get a better view of your current position. Skirt of your tulle dress to your waist, legs spread wide, hips moving to a beat all their own.

Eddie took long strides over to stand in front of you. “Well that’s a picture I never seen before.”

You opened an eye to him crouched beside you now. “When the breeze hits just right…it feels so good Ed,” you moan.

He removes the glove on his hand with his teeth. You feel the coarse pads of his fingers spread your cunt open. His index finger rubs with your clit in slow circles.

“Is that so? Mind if I help you out a bit?”

“Do what you must, cowboy,” you sigh.

Eddie takes the hat off his head and covers your face with it. You hear the clinking of his belt buckle come undone. He wraps the belt around your wrists, fusing them together in the thick leather.

“You still with me me, baby?”

“Never left.”

The sound of him hocking a loogie into his hand sends tingles down to your cunt. She’s the greediest bitch you know.

Eddie’s spit feels warm on your folds. Trickling and wrapping around your clit, his two fingers rub you out. Your pubes tickle the skin on his arm as it grazes against you.

“D’ya like that girlie?” He whispers.

“S’good Eddie.”

He pushes three fingers inside you. He curls them slowly, right against your gspot.

“Fuck!”

“Is that what she needed, baby?”

“C’mon Eddie. Please—I can’t hold it. Can I come?”

“‘can I come?’” He mocks you.

At that moment you feel pull away from you. You whine loudly.

“You sound just like Shadow when I don’t give her an extra sugar cube,” he laughs.

“Don’t leave me hanging cowboy!” You plead.

“Don’t worry girlie, I’d never leave her without a special treat.”

You sense his body between your legs, spreading them further apart. His breath is right on your cunt. “I got her medicine right here.”

He takes a long swipe with his tongue up your folds. Your thighs clench around his head. Eddie’s ears and neck grow warm at the embrace. There’s nowhere he’d rather be more, not even on the back of a raging bull.

He kisses your clit then goes in, taking the little button between his lips. He sucks you down like the thickest milkshake.

“Jesus Christ almighty!” You squeal.

Eddie’s fingers slip right into your wet pussy. Four fingers fit easily. Your arms come up around to make a grab for his hair. With your wrists still tied, you grip what you can, pulling hard and tight with every move he makes. Eddie’s fingers bully your gspot relentlessly.

Slick oozes out of you, dripping down Eddie’s chin. “You gon’ come when I tell you to girlie?”

“Yes! I’ll do whatever you want!”

“Whatever I want, huh? Whatever Daddy says goes?”

“Yes Daddy!”

“Well c’mon then. Whenever you’re ready.”

“Mmmm, thank you—Fuck—Eddie!”

“That’s it baby,” he moans.

Eddie takes the hat off your face and slides it under you. The fabric of the hat brush against the sensitive skin under your ass.

With a wave of pleasure overtaking you, you come hard, spraying Eddie with your squirt. He angles the crown of his hat to capture your essence. Eddie’s shirt and the grass beneath you is soaked. He continues to work you, fingers pumping ferociously to milk you.

“That’s it, baby. Love when you water the grass,” he says with a smile.

He lifts the hat, tipping the brim to his lips. You watch him drink your come down, a small trickle dripping down his chin. Eddie wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.

He leans over you to undo the buckle on the belt. He soothes your wrists, kissing them gently before kissing your lips. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer for a deeper kiss.

“Sweetest morning dew I ever tasted baby,” he says against your pout.

“Are you ready for seconds?”

#eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x female reader #fem reader #eddie munson fem!reader #munsonology’s eddieverse #eddie munson smut #smut #eddie smut #cowboy!eddie munson x reader #munsonology’s cowboy!eddie #cowboy!eddie and girlie #cowboy!eddie munson #summertime writing game #sweet plains

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katerinaaqu · 6 months ago

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Odysseus and Menelaus

So saying he drew the mighty spear of wise-hearted Socus forth from his flesh and from his bossed shield, and when it was drawn out the blood gushed forth and distressed his spirit. But the great-souled Trojans, when they beheld the blood of Odysseus, [460] called one to another through the throng and made at him all together. But he gave ground, and shouted to his comrades; thrice shouted he then loud as a man's head can shout,1 and thrice did Menelaus, dear to Ares, hear his call, and forthwith he spake to Aias that was nigh at hand: [465] “Aias, sprung from Zeus, thou son of Telamon, captain of the host, in mine ears rang the cry of Odysseus, of the steadfast heart, like as though the Trojans had cut him off in the fierce conflict and were over-powering him alone as he is. Nay, come, let us make our way through the throng; to bear him aid is the better course. [470] I fear lest some evil befall him, alone mid the Trojans, valiant though he be, and great longing for him come upon the Danaans.” So saying he led the way, and Aias followed, a godlike man. Then found they Odysseus, dear to Zeus and round about the Trojans beset him, as tawny jackals in the mountains [475] about a horned stag that hath been wounded, that a man hath smitten with an arrow from the string; from him the stag hath escaped and fleeth swiftly so long as the blood flows warm and his knees are quick, but when at length the swift arrow overpowereth him, then ravening jackals rend him amid the mountains [480] in a shadowy grove; but lo, God bringeth against them a murderous lion, and the jackals scatter in flight, and he rendeth the prey: even so then did the Trojans, many and valiant, beset Odysseus round about, the wise and crafty-minded; but the warrior darting forth with his spear warded off the pitiless day of doom. [485] Then Aias drew near, bearing his shield that was like a city wall, and stood forth beside him, and the Trojans scattered in flight, one here, one there. And warlike Menelaus led Odysseus forth from the throng, holding him by the hand, till his squire drave up the horses and car. Hom.Il. 11.456-488

This is probably one of my favorite moments in Iliad for it shows the brutality of war and at the same time the power of comrades and forgetting one's differences.

For starters I love the fact that it shows how strong Odysseus is in battle. Modern media tend to picture him as a generally not as good warrior that has to get down to tricks to win the battle but that is far from it as in Rhapsody 11 he is seen wounded by a spear in the stomach and fighting off around 20 Trojans by himself and holding on pretty well against them. At the same time though shows the difference between Odysseus and other characters. Odysseus is not stupid. He knows his limits and he knows he won't hold out forever so the way he yells three times for ANYONE to hear him and send assistance shows the desperation of the situation

And Menelaus is the one to hear his cry and actually call for the most powerful warrior in their army to come to his assistance and he clearly states that if they lose Odysseus then things would be tough for them. He recognizes both his strength and his value in the war. He knows that people like Odysseus are irreplacable and the way he actually helps him off the battlefield by supporting him is literally one of my favorite moments! The way we also see that he later on is one of those who speaks with the most outmost warmth for Odysseus and names him as his dearest friend and comrade when he speaks of him to Telemachus (Even Aias who is not particularly fond of Odysseus and vice versa, forgets his personal grudge and rushes to his assistance)

I think that the friendship between Menelaus and Odysseus is not talked much (obscured maybe by the scenes between Odysseus and Diomedes and for good reason maybe) and I think it is a shame. And it is another reason why I loved art such as @thehelplessmortals depicting some tender moments between Menelaus and Odysseus. And also this is another reason why I made them interract in my fanfiction Guilt given that Menelaus is probably the one who appreciates more than many the capabilities Odysseus has; both his brain and mind and his battle abilities

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isaacswhy · 5 months ago

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could we please get some poly!isaac & nick hcs w gn!reader pretty pretty please🥺👉🏼👈🏼

dating isaac & nick hcs

the chillest guys ever. if you're all three hanging in a room together usually you're just vibing together.

they both love quality time. you could just sit in a room on your phones for three hours and it's the highlight of their days.

isaac is more into physical affection and is always holding you while nick is a little more subtle, casually wrapping an arm around you while you're sitting together.

if nick is chilling with an arm around you and isaac wants love, he will become whiny about it. he's a tough man to please (not really)

you guys do gaming discord calls almost every night. not always the three of you gaming together, sometimes it's one of you streaming a game while the other two watches

it can be a battle of overprotective dogboys at times. whenever youre out in public they are genuine guard dogs.

if someone tries to flirt with you while they're around, they'll appear behind you and just. stare menacingly until they leave you alone

if you're honest isaac does a better job since he's like 6'6 but nick is pretty built so he gets the job done if he's solo

tattoos. you will get tattoos with them if you like them and take them to their tattoo appointments. maybe matching ones?

in the groupchat of you 3, it's a lot of you guys sending posts/photos and saying "us"

isaac LOVES to send photos of dogs and cats and saying "us". it's literally his favorite thing you hear him giggling from his room when he does it

so much clothes shopping. isaac needs his shoes and they both share a love for japanese streetwear. so you're constantly being the judge of their online shopping/irl fits.

although isaac likes to be the guy taking photos, you three take SO many photos of each other. your instagram feeds are stacked and curated

if you're a cc, the trio streams are elite. mostly isaac and nick bickering like an old married couple but it's cute

so many vlogs. nick makes you be in them and if you're in them, isaac will be in them. it works out for his content creation

you're also in all the LTLVCs. you're not exactly the strongest contender but then you turn into the person that grabs other people's foods etc

you're always in isaac and nick's rooms acting as emotional support and hanging out while they edit videos. isaac especially because he needs it for those 15 hour sessions

you wear all their hoodies. isaac's are naturally oversized for you but nick buys oversized ones so they're all guaranteed to be big.

isaac loves to make you music playlists and it also got nick into making playlists too. but isaac does it way more frequently

they write songs about you !!!!

so many dates. individually and as a group. isaac loves to plan things and nick always gets roped into it

most common trio activity: sitting in isaac's room eating doordash'd takeout on your phones and sending each other tiktoks

these are my favorite poly ship so like. send more of these pls and thank you i loved writing this

#isaacwhy #isaacwhy x reader #softwilly #softwilly x reader #tgc #tgc x reader #the group #the group x reader #the group chat #bigt #yumi #larry croft #headcanons #poly tgc

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jebewonmorelike · 2 years ago

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Hao You Like That?

wc: 2.6k (guys i can't stop writing 2.6k words pls send help and love) pronouns: none used; n/a (if u find any that i wrote by mistake, pls let me know) warnings: none? a bit angsty, a bit fluffy... a mention of drinking, bullying/jealousy, food... maybe a swear or two? ricky pops up at the end, but that's not a warning it's a very pleasant surprise summary: oh no, you guys. trainee!reader is zhang hao's arch nemesis... i hope they aren't secretly harboring romantic feelings for eachother! ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ Not ready for eliminations guys. I think all of my top picks are safe (I'm getting so worried about Jay though), but I truly love ALL of those boys so much. I can't wait to see what they all do next. Can't believe we'll have Bep1er in like two weeks...

"(Y/N)!"

You chew your cheeks silently as your dance teacher shouts your name, bracing yourself for the inevitable criticism.

He glares at you a moment, before snapping his fingers and pointing to the center of the formation. “Stand there.”

You glance at Zhang Hao, the trainee that is currently standing at center and who also happens to be your arch nemesis. Zhang Hao had always been the darling of your company, an extremely talented dancer, vocalist and notable visual. But the first day you walked through your company’s doors as a fresh-faced trainee with an enviable skillset, Zhang Hao had suddenly found himself faced with real competition for the first time since he started training.

So for the past year it’s been a constant professional battle between the two of you, but on more than one occasion things had felt quite personal. When you were awarded center and main vocalist in your training group’s number for the company showcase in the spring, you woke up the morning of the performance to a large rash around your collarbone and running up both of your arms. Come to find out, Zhang Hao had exploited your well-known allergy to nickel and switched your costume jewelry for the performance with his.

This offense, of course, called for payback of equal or higher severity. When Zhang Hao was selected to perform solo for investors last fall, you spread a rumor around the company that he still wet the bed. The rumor spread so far that when Zhang Hao took center stage, one of the investors asked the CEO loudly, "Oh, this is the bed-wetter boy you were talking about?"

Hao is absolutely fuming right now and you can tell by the lack of expression on his face. No visible reaction from him always meant you'd be paying for whatever you earned later.

He steps aside as you take center, moving to your previous spot as you run the dance this way for your teacher. You give it your all, but you're admittedly a bit surprised to be considered for center for "How You Like That". You had been up all night for a week trying to finish an essay for your Sociology class and you hadn't stayed at the company past nine for the last three days. Practicing this dance had been low on your list of priorities.

As you hit your final pose, your teacher nods thoughtfully. He always looks so angry that you can never tell what he's really thinking until he says it out loud.

"I think we should put it up to a vote," he says decidedly.

Your eyes find Hao's quickly, a look of surprise on his face mirroring yours. "A vote?"

Your teacher claps his hands together. "A vote. You can practice for 24 hours. And tomorrow at this time, you'll both battle it out and the whole company will vote on it."

You swallow hard. "This is a terrible idea."

"What? Afraid you can't beat me?" Hao challenges with a smirk.

You study him for a second: his stupid (perfect) hair, his stupid (fashionable) outfit, his stupid (handsome) face. You know very well that he hates this idea as much as you do, if not more.

Your status as the top two trainees at the company made you both targets of jealousy and bullying, often leaving you feeling ostracized from much of the group. Funnily enough, Zhang Hao was probably the only person who could really understand how you feel most days, so it was both ironic and a real shame that he hated you most of all.

"No. I'm afraid of what will happen to me when I do," you reply, folding your arms as you turn your attention back to the front of the room.

Your teacher sighs in disbelief. "You two are the most annoying students I've ever had. Talented... But so irritating."

Some trainees behind you laugh while your teacher dismisses the group practice and you quickly gather your things and run out the door to an individual practice room.

You practice for a few more hours, not really wanting to lose to Hao now that you'd challenged him in front of your whole group. Crashing into your dorm around midnight, you work on your essay for another four hours before finally falling asleep. By 5:45 A.M., you're up and ready to walk through company doors at 6.

The day moves so slowly as you phone it in for every practice session and spend your lunch and dinner breaks alone in a practice room, thinking only about the choreography for the showcase number. You will never be able to listen to "How You Like That" the same way after this.

Finally, you reach your last practice session of the day at 8 P.M. and as you make your way to the studio room, you're surprised when you see Zhang Hao sitting in the hallway with his back against the wall.

Approaching the door, you look over at him. "What are you doing?"

He looks up at you and you can swear his eyes are watery. "Nothing."

"Are you crying?" You ask in a less than caring manner.

He looks away and sniffles. "Allergies."

"Did someone... say something?" You prompt reluctantly, knowing that it was a common occurrence for one or the both of you to end your days in tears from a nasty comment from your peers. "I don't know why you'd listen to them anyway. They're just jealous of you. Why wouldn't they be? You're better than them."

You're not really sure why you're offering even an attempt at words of comfort right now. Maybe it's because of your sleep deprivation. Maybe it's because his handsome face looks extra pathetic right now. Or maybe it's because you can't help but sympathize with him.

His wide eyes meet yours in a way you can't remember having seen before, but he doesn't say anything.

"I'd also be happy to say something even worse to take your mind off it?" You offer facetiously as you take into account his non-response.

He checks his watch suddenly and stands up, dusting himself off a bit as he grabs the door handle and pushes it open. "I think beating you should help just fine, actually."

Hao goes first, performing the center choreography and vocals for "How You Like That" to an audience of about fifty trainees that your teacher could muster up. Hardly the whole company, but you were surprised even that many of your peers wanted to watch either of you.

You can't help but notice that Zhang Hao seems a little distracted. Moves he would normally punch perfectly on an accented beat are lagging slightly and his expression is less than enthused. Nevertheless he does well and after he finishes, you hop up to take your turn. Fighting the exhaustion that is consuming your body, you battle to the best of your ability. Your voice has sounded extra good today, maybe because you hadn't let it cool down for over twenty-four hours. Hitting your final pose, you know you've out-performed Hao by at least a noticeable margin.

And from the look in his eyes, you know he knows it, too.

Your teacher stands up and calls for the vote. The trainees all hand in small slips of paper with either your name or Zhang Hao's on them and your teacher counts them quickly.

"Zhang Hao is the winner with... 43 votes," he says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Huh."

You feel your cheeks start to heat up at the embarrassingly large defeat, swallowing the lump in your throat quickly. Your group practice session resumes without fanfare and you work on ironing out your original sub-vocal one and main rapper part for the rest of the hour, scurrying quickly from the practice studio and out company doors as fast as humanly possible.

You hit 'submit' on your essay at 11:37 P.M. exactly, just making the midnight deadline. Rubbing your eyes furiously, you start to get ready for a good night's sleep after a restless week of practice and schoolwork. Your toothbrush is in your mouth when a knock sounds on your door. Your roommates had gone out to drink tonight and said they wouldn't be back until early morning, so you wonder who the mysterious guest could be.

Spitting into the sink and wiping your mouth, you run to the door and open it cautiously to find Ricky, Zhang Hao's roommate, smiling politely back at you.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)... I think this got delivered to our room by mistake. I flipped it open quickly since there was no name on it and it's addressed to you, so I figured it just got mixed in with our mail by accident," Ricky explains, handing you a delicately folded piece of white paper.

"Oh," you say, turning it over in your hands. "Thanks, Ricky."

"No worries," he says with a nod, starting to walk away before adding, "Hey, uh, don't feel too bad about today either. Hao is really good, of course, but he only won by such a big margin because he bought everyone ramen for dinner tonight in exchange for their vote."

You can't help but laugh at the information you should've probably deduced for yourself. "Typical."

"If it makes you feel any better-- I'm upset about it, too. He used my credit card," the tall boy relays with a sigh, turning around and making his way back to his dorm.

You close the door to your room, sitting down on your bed and staring at the strange letter in your hands. You carefully open the folded piece of white paper and read the neat handwriting on the page:

"(Y/N),

Why are you like this? So perfect, I mean. You didn't practice the dance nearly as much as I did, but you were so much better. Why do you have to be a trainee at my company? Wouldn't it be better if we had both signed with different companies? Then maybe you wouldn't hate me so much. Then maybe I wouldn't have to pretend to hate you at all. Then maybe I wouldn't have been staring at you so much during practice today that I had my position as center questioned.

Ugh, this is so stupid. I don't know why my therapist told me to do this. So what if it's not healthy to have an "arch nemesis"? So what if it's even less healthy to have a crush on my so-called arch nemesis? What does she know?

I know I can't ever say any of this to you, but I just feel like you might be the one person who really gets me. How else would we be able to ruin each other's lives so effectively? Is it so wrong to want to turn things around? And it's not like we really have anyone else to talk to. I guess I just don't know how to tell you that I--..."

The letter ends there; a pen mark after the letter 'I' indicating the writer was pulled away from it in a hurry. It isn't signed, of course, but you know there's only one person who could've written it.

Jumping off of your bed, slipping on your shoes and racing down the hall, you knock on the door to his room. Ricky opens the door, smiling at first and then eyes widening in fear as he sees the look on your face.

"Is Hao there?" You ask frantically.

He shakes his head quickly. "No, he's still at the company, why--."

"Thanks," you say, starting down the hall as the blonde boy stares after you. "You should be running too, Ricky!"

"Why?" He asks, brows furrowing in confusion.

Opening the doors of your dorm building, you yell back over your shoulder, "Because Hao is going to kill you!"

Bursting through the company's doors at 12:06 A.M., you drop your phone in the basket in the hallway. A staff member greets you very cautiously.

"(Y/N), are you here to practice? All the individual rooms are currently in use," she says, looking at her watch to see what time it is.

"Great. Where's Zhang Hao?" You quietly demand, walking past her down the corridor to the individual practice rooms.

"Oh, um... Number three," she calls after you've already turned the corner. You're shaking slightly by the time you reach the door to practice room number three, entirely out of breath and sopping wet from running half a mile in the rain to get there in a fit of anxiety and rage.

You spot him now through the small window in the practice room door, perfecting some choreography for the investors' evaluation this weekend. His eyes are closed and his headphones are on as you prepare for a sneak attack, opening the door and stepping inside.

But Hao's eyes suddenly locking on yours through the mirror sends a panic through your system. You're breathing even harder than you were before as he turns around to face you. Taking off his headphones, he gives you a look of concern (or disgust) as he takes in your haggard state.

"What's--... What's wrong? Why are you all wet and gross?" He asks in a very Hao-like way, making it hard to believe he was really the one who wrote you some sort of quasi-love letter.

You stand there for a second, staring back at him as fear temporarily paralyzes you. What in the world are you thinking? What even is the goal of bringing this letter to him? To make fun of him? To break his heart?

... To make a confession of your own?

"Are you okay? Did something happen?" He asks then, his voice noticeably softening slightly. "Did someone... say something?"

You nod slowly, pulling out the folded letter from your hoodie pocket; now dampened from the rain.

"What's that?" Zhang Hao asks, brows furrowed as we walks up to you and snatches the paper out of your hand. He unfolds it quickly, the corner of it tearing off in the process.

You watch his face completely drop as he realizes what it is. If you were questioning it before, you now had no doubt that Hao had in fact written the letter. He stares at it silently, clearly unsure of what to do or say.

"Is it true?" You ask softly.

"Is what true? There's not even a signature on it," he denies half-heartedly, bottom lip finding its way between his teeth.

"Is it true?" You ask again. Did you want it to be true?

His eyes meet yours timidly now, as he seemingly finds himself unable to speak. He shakes his head slowly. Has he always been this cute?

"That's too bad," you concede, stepping backwards. "I might've considered it... All of it."

You raise your eyebrows expectantly, turning towards the door when you feel Zhang Hao's hand close around your wrist. You look at him, his cheeks flushed a perfect rose.

"This is so embarrassing," he squeaks out, looking anywhere but into your eyes.

You nod. "It really is."

"Well, you're the one who ran here in the rain at midnight to see me," he quips.

"Well, you're the one so hung up on me that your therapist made you write a fake letter to address your feelings," you rebuttal.

"Well, you're the one who--," Hao starts to argue, and before you're even fully aware of what you're about to do, you find yourself cutting him off with a kiss. When you pull back, his mouth hangs agape slightly in shock. "… Kissed me."

"Honestly, Hao, you are pretty cute, but you're so annoying when you talk," you explain.

He nods slowly. "And so are you... But you know what I still can't figure out?"

You raise an eyebrow at him curiously. "What?"

"How did you get this letter in the first place? It was in my r--..."

Zhang Hao's eyes narrow menacingly as realization hits him:

"Ricky."

389 notes · View notes