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#it might just be one of my favorite things
00kittenz · 2 days
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── smarty. ( pjs ) 🪷
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๑ Jay has had enough of your brattiness for today, there’s only so much he can take.. so he may as well teach you a little lesson, right?
pair: bf!jay ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, angst (??), small age gap (jay is 5 years older), d/s dynamics, bratty!reader, slight ddlg themes, spanking, p.ssy slapping, oral (f. rec), edging, crying, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, reader is implied to be a curvy/thick girly but anyone can read tbh ! | words: 1.7k
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“what’d i tell you about saying things like that?”
“i don’t care, it’s true !” you snarled, if it hadn’t been made clear how aggravated you were, it sure as hell was now.
you and jay spent the weekend with his parents at a resort somewhere in jeju. everything was going fine at first, that was until an unexpected guest invited themselves to join your little ‘family trip’. her name was hanna ? halie ? you don’t know and you didn’t care. what fogged your mind for the rest of the trip was how she clung up onto jay like the smoke to dry ice.
what agitated you even more about her was her need to call you out asking you a million questions about your clothing and how she’s so shocked that jay settled down with someone like you. all of her backhanded compliments would rub you the wrong way and she just gave you weird vibes. it’s as if you weren’t “pretty enough” to date him; according to her at least. don’t get it twisted, jay definitely shut all of that down. he wouldn’t let any woman pin you as anything less than you were. a fucking goddess.
“why’re you acting like this? what’d i even do?” he paused. “what haneul does has nothing to do with me.” he continued, eyes focused on the road. he’s become fed up with your constant nagging. maybe it’s just his level of maturity that makes him unable to see it, but he doesn’t understand why you worry so much, it was as if every ‘i love you the most’ ‘you’re my favorite’ ‘it’s only you’s’ didn’t matter. he felt like his words held no weight whatsoever.
“nothing to do with you ? hah, you’re the one who let her bombard our vacation. might i add family vacation.” you sterned, shifting your body closer to the door of the vehicle, looking out the window.
“what did you expect me to do y/n? she’s been a family friend for years now, i can’t just tell her to fuck off and go somewhere else. she’d go crying to my mom about how mean i was to her and that’s just extra drama that i don’t need right now..” he exhaled heavily, glancing at your avoidant figure. when he got no reply from you he left it be, turning up the music to avoid the awkward atmosphere the both of you created.
๑ ๑ ๑
“babe, can you pass me my frames ?” jay dared to ask even though you’d been ignoring him since the incident from earlier.
“y/n.” “please ?” watching as you hadn’t budged even a bit he grew upset. it was already bad enough for him that you were acting like he didn’t even exist, which was fine. though, he wouldn’t just take your constant disrespect.
so he got rid of what seemed to be your main source of attention. your phone.
“what the fuck, jay !” you reached at him. “give me my phone !”
“jay !” he mocked, his voice altering to sound high pitched like yours. “don’t you see that i’m trying put things back together? why do you have to act like such a child.” he was disappointed in you. you were a fully legal adult, yet your actions said differently.
“strip.” jay broke the silence you let fill the room. you were hesitant, and confused, but at least you were actually looking at him now. “you heard me, now.” his brow raised as his mouth slipped a scoff.
were you just gonna let him boss you around ? definitely not. were you feeling intimidated ? yes. but your pride stood stronger than the trouble you’d get into. you breathe heavily finding your way to the door of your bedroom for your dramatic escape; until you felt a tug at your arm and then the softness of your mattress, cosigned with the weight of your built boyfriend.
“i guess i have to do everything myself today, huh ?” jay sounded calm but you knew otherwise, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let this play out just to see this side of him. ‘cause you did. hell, you felt your wetness dripping past the wall of your ass, the sticky sensation sending your body chills.
the jingle of his belt caught your attention, but before you could even glance at him, your face was meshed with the comforter of your shared bed. you shriek.
“jay— !”
“oh now you wanna talk ? huh, funny.” his hand sent goosebumps throughout your body as he runs his palm over your clothed ass. “it’s a shame you don’t listen. now your pretty tails gonna be all red.” he pinched the fabric of your skirt flicking it upwards onto your lower back.
“ ‘m sorry..” you uttered feeling him tug at your underwear.
now, jay was ignoring you. all you felt was him adjusting your waist, so that your ass sat in the air.
“‘m really sorry..ja—” you pause, shrieking at the leather that came in contact with your silky skin. if you could describe the feel of it, it’s like a slow burn, a slow burning that spread like wildfire everytime he unleashed the branded weapon on you.
discipline is a topic your parents took lightly. yeah, they disciplined you, but it was never a ‘bend over my knee’ type of discipline. more like, every morning you wake up ‘sit in that corner’ type of discipline. jay never went soft on you when it came down to it. he wanted to make sure you never do whatever you’re in trouble for again.
“crying ? what’re you crying for,” jay never pushed aside your emotions, he had to hear you out or his guilt would eat him alive. hearing you sniffle shot a sort of worry in him.
“listen, you put yourself in this situation—” he paused throwing his belt. “you already know what happens when you wanna act like a brat.” he palmed your cunt. he wasn’t going to baby you this time, that’s all he ever did. maybe this was partially his fault too..
subconsciously, you felt yourself grinding on his hand. you were needy, you always were after a punishment, even if he didn’t know. but now, you were on display. there was no way he wouldn’t find out.
“you’re such a fucking slut,” his thumb caressing your entrance, pushing your sweetness through your dewy folds. “already so wet for daddy, hm?” his thumb slid through your sticky walls in a in and out motion. your slick caking his finger everytime he pulled it from inside you.
“please..” was a constant that came from your mouth. you didn’t know what you were pleading for. more ? less ? what was it ? you only knew that he made you feel so good. the look of him drenched you. you wanted him to slut you out. ruin you.
“please ? please what?” he couldn’t help but snort at you. the mere thought that you can get what you want with just a please— scratch that. the thought that you think you can get whatever you want after testing his patience, made him laugh. “please.. forgive me ?”
“i dunno..m” you slurred, you were estatic. just his thumb, making you feel so dumb. it made you feel small, like you were nothing but a tiny spectacle of dust.
“you dunno..? wan’ me to help you find out ?” you were flipped onto your back before you knew it. once you saw the shift in his eyes change, you knew what he was prone to do. the thought itself making you spread your legs wide open.
you even made the mistake of trying to rub yourself. that quickly got disposed.
“you lost your damn mind ?” his hand reached down to slap your weeping pussy.
“baby, i can’t wait.. please!” you whined watching as he kneeled down, face between your begging thighs, hands cupping each pretty chunk of flesh.
“but you can.” “matter of fact, you will.” he blew onto your core. the cold sensation bringing your hips to a jolt. his eyes scanned your smaller figure watching every expression that played out on your face, then down to your breasts. “lift up your shirt, let me see your beautiful body, baby.”
earning yourself a “good little girl.” when you comply.
๑ ๑ ๑
you hadn’t gotten a break since he started his mouth on you. drinking in your first orgasm, then the second. seems like you were now on your third.
“fuck.. jay.” you groaned your hips aching to move in his grasp. you’d try not to breakdown whenever his nose came in touch with your throbbing clit.
“you done ? talk to me baby.” he growled against your heat. his warm breath made you thirsty. he was eating you like it was his last supper. ripping you to absolute shreds.
“i’m gonna come, daddy..” your legs were shaking, your voice was whiney, and you needed an exhale. once he started sucking on your clit your back arched. at him, the feel, and the thought of him, making you feel.
“yeah, you gonna come for me ?”
“yeah.. wan’ come for you..” you spoke through labored breaths. once your moaning got louder, he stopped. he’d love to make you come, third times a charm. but he wasn’t going to. he basically lured you in just to trick you.
“jayy !” “it was right there, i was about to cum !” you childishly whined at the begging sensation between your legs. the quivering feeling making you force your legs closed to suppress the throbbing feel. you felt his hungry stare on you. you knew he wanted you. it’s when you realized this wasn’t an after punishment treat. he was edging you. right after overstimulating you. how cruel..
“aww, look at you ! my pretty girl..” he pouted at you, your sad, twitching state. you were groaning for more as he watched you. pitying you. how could you have thought it was over? after a mere spanking ? silly.
“i guess you really thought huh.” he cackled. “ooh ! should we order room service.. i’m kinda hungry. you ?” he got up to go and search for the phone.
maybe you did deserve this. shouldn’t be acting so damn bratty all the time, even if it’s in your nature to piss him off. now look at you. eyes all watery, and a mess between your legs.
oh well, not his problem.
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kyri45 · 2 days
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✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 28/09✨
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Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~
Anonimo ha chiesto: I am going to ask you to make a difficult decision… freenoodles or Shadowpeach
(Freenoodles, in my opinion, is just barely better than shadowpeach. Just because of how gay they are in season five. I mean, look at them and tell me they aren’t married.)
Sooo I go with shadowpeach. Freenoodle is like my comfort shit. so many cute and funny shenanigans, for me they are just the married couple who would probably have the healtiest of the relationship. They have teh experience, they went already throught all the "obliviouss-ness" and the "what if they don't love me" yadda yadda.
But Shadowpeach. Ow man. I thought the ineffable housband ship was complex. but god. oh god. how wrong I was. like- these two went from friends, to brothers, to lovers, to enemies, to friends again and to be lover again. They fucked up so much nothing will ever be the same. But they still weak for each other. They are at each other throat and also they know the other in the most intimate way. they are immortal. One of them fucking killed the other. They thought the other left them and betrayed and went both drama to forget (one choose found family, the other murder but anyway-)
Like- WHAT SHIP CAN BE MORE COMPLEX THAN THIS?????
Anonimo ha chiesto: Does MK have a favorite between his bio parents
oUH NO POOR MONKEYS. He doesn't, but he has a favourite depending on the context. Like, for training he prefers Macaque because he explains a lot better than Wukong, but sparring with Wukong is much funnier, but he prefers Macaque scratches and grooming, but he loves Wukong squeezing hugs, etc...
Anonimo ha chiesto: You know, I just realized something. So you know how people in the fandom give Macaque lotus nicknames since his ears kind of resemble lotus flowers. Well since MK has both Wukong and Macaque's ears that kind of makes MK's ears resemble Peace Lilies (which is kind of ironic since MK is the Harbinger of Chaos)
Aww I guess they do look like them!
Anonimo ha chiesto: I may sound a little to mean but Mk din't suspect a thing aout macaques eye? he has multiple forms were his eye is a cross i mean, i would think smt happend to that eye but that just me uu I LOVE UR ART IT MAKES ME WANT TO KMS /POS
He surely suspected something happened to Mac eye but he didn't know how that happened.
@queen-of-purple-roses ha chiesto: I have a question and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t have too; since we’ve seen Macaque feel guilty with how he treated MK in the past, does Monkey King feel guilty about all the dangerous moments that MK was put in, since most if not all of the fighting ends up on MK’s plate and not Wukong’s.
Oh absolutely, the more time passes he feels more and more guilty.
@catbox730 ha chiesto: Can we get more MK and Red Son please
mayyyyyybe. If you guys behave
Anonimo ha chiesto: It would be funny seeing MK‘s dads going to a doctor with him for like getting his wisdom teeth removed or something xD
The parents being extremely worried that something will go wrong while MK is super chill. When the dentist comes out of the operating room they grab him and ask him if he survived while MK is just eating ice cream post-surgery.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Will MK ever fight against one of his parents in a serious battle ? Or be forced to fight one of them ?
mmm. Probably. Maybe in the future they have a discussion. Nothing maybe too serious. But not in the AU plans.
What is Wukongs and/or Macaques biggest nightmare(s) I imagine it would be something like seeing MK die or sacrificing himself again or something like that
I think Wukong is more terrified of being alone. So actually I think it would be worse for him that MK doesn't want to see him anymore.
Anonimo ha chiesto: so who is going to be MK‘s hero that he worships ? I don’t know if he still sees Monkey king in that way after finding out that he is basically his dad and hearing the past the fight with Macaque….
Maybe he wont have any hero. Maybe worshipping someone is not such a healthy thing to do. ( I'm not talking in a religious way of course, I meant worshipping a living normal person)
@emmais333 ha chiesto: Love your MK art. One question how many fights from Wukong and Mac does MK overhear on accident
He heard the first one (and the past one through the vision) then Wkong and Mac started to teleport far away enough so he wont be able to hear them discuss.
Anonimo ha chiesto: What if MK catches Mac and Wukong in the act, not visually, but audibly, like hearing it when going to flower feuit mountain, finding the monkeys in a pile, all traumatized. Or is it too soon? Do they get drunk enough to not care? Do they even drink?
in the....act? (sorry I don't understand stuff if it's not explicited said, like I can't understand double meanings if that was what you meant)
Anonimo ha chiesto: I LOVE YOUR STORY, REALLY!!!! I reread a lot. So lovely. And the Baby MK, I just want to hug so badly 🥺 ( I think Macaque become Protecting mode and he won't let me do it. ) You draw Baby MK so so so cute. My heart can't handle it.❤️ Maybe it's a terrifying idea but I would like know your thoughts. I think that Macaque sleeps very quietly, like a man in a coffin.  + Macaque fell into a very deep DEEP sleep. (maybe because he was tired from fighting demons to protect Baby MK or get injured or something?) = How do you think Sun Wokung will react?
o my god NO DON'T GIVE HIM AN HEARTH ATTACK (heloses one of their immortalities for having the most horrrendous of jumpscares)
@raspberrymixin ha chiesto: AHHH I LOVE YOU SHADOW PEACH BIO AU OMG ITS TO FREAKEN CUTEEEE AAHH I just melt into a puddle! Love you art and make sure to take breaks- anyway- I find it cute how redson interacts with MK I can just imagine him giving him stuff and little gifts and Mk just confused on why but takes it anyway because of friendship and maybe a sign he's trusting more- but MK is just oblivious to the courting- And maybe redson would ask Wukong, Macaque, Tang or pigsy to allow it maybe? And I also love the slow burn! It's just cute on how Macaque and Wukong make each other blush! Awww it's just to cute! I hope you're doing amazing and have a good night/day
Oh man MK would not be able to read a single clue and just think it's a symbol of friendship or wathever. O my god he really did take from his parents (all of them)
fayeangel25 ha chiesto: YOUUU UFUFFHH WHEN I GET YOUUUUU anyways, I wanna see wukong asking macaque about the story of him and mac ( after mamacaque storytelled his lil baby mk ) , cuz i wanna see more flustered macaque!!! Also, 👏 EATING 👏 THIS 👏 AU 👏 UP!!
Hehe he would be a little shy about it. But Macaque is a theater kid so for a bigger audience I guess he would do it.
Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like I’m new here. What is Court napping?
Consensual Kidnapping with the intend of flirting with another demon.
Anonimo ha chiesto: How many people want to court MK now that he is a real stone monkey AND the son of Wukong and Macaque ?
mmm. Only people close to MK knows that he's the bio kid of shadowpeach. So for now only Red Son
Anonimo ha chiesto: I bet PIF would try to wait for MK to lose the good guy ‘phase’ since she went through that before lmao (forget being good, convert to villainy in the name of love)
Awwww she would!!! But MK is just too good hearted to hurt a fly. (yeah I know he technically has a kill count still-)
Anonimo ha chiesto: MK would obviously call Pigsy "Papa" so what would MK call Tang and Sandy?
I think he would actually call Pigsy "dad" since it's what he calls him that in the show. Maybe it's Tang that gets to be called Papa. I think Sandy is more like an uncle.
@mage-of-words ha chiesto: When will Wukong purpose to Macaque?
WOW- HOLD ON THERE. LET HIM TAKE HIM TO DINNER FIRST.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Omg I wonder if Macaque and Monkey King ever saw MK get really hurt during a battle with a new demon. RIP the Demon bc two feral Monkeys are after them now bc they hurt their kid.
Them to said demon: So you have choosen.... death.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out, Mac and Wukong in a get along shirt for a day (lost a bet to MK and he planned this too) LOVE YOUR ART TOO ITS SO SCRUMDIDDLYUMPTIOUCIOUS
this is an old ask, sorry for taking so long to answer. But I would say that at this point of the story Wukong would probably be at cloud 9 being squished to super soft macaque all day. Macaque would be like a kitten undecided on wheter he loves or hate the situation (doesn't really likes un-warned physical touch.
Anonimo ha chiesto: Hoi there, I found you again! (Following you on Insta as well because your art is awesome ^^)
Reading your LMK ShadowPeaches comics and they are fun. And now my brain can't help but make up scenarios, one like this one. Oh my, MK is a cute little baby! (^///^) Oh my, MK is a little baby!! ('O_O) Welp, Pigsy is going to kill someone unless Wukong gives baby MK into his arms to calm down and be busy being a dad than a raging Hulk. (:P) Also, I imagine MK accidentally shrinking himself, (Wukong decided to play hide and seek with it only to later on regret it). Wukong would freaking out about it, and Macaque then shook him violently while yelling into his face for losing MK. Then out of Nowhere, Nezha shows up at the door frame and be like 'Um, hey guys. Is this yours?' Points at his nose where tiny baby bean MK was, clinging onto Nezha's nose while giggling.
askjajvbks that's a lovely scene! Unfortunately Nehza can't know yet about MK, but maybe he will...
@lara-legomonkiekid 💜:Hey! I'm here to ask permission!Can I make an art Drawing of your Bio parents AU Meeting One of my AU's?Please?(Mostly Suposed to be Meeting One of my OC's!) (Love Your Art and Comics!!!!)(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)
Yeah sure! just be sure to tag me and link the masterpost of the AU
Anonimo ha chiesto: I find it funny how your shadowpeach bio au came from a joke and now.....wow Your art is amazing
My friend even tried to warn me. BUT I DIDN'T LISTEN
Anonimo ha chiesto: I need Freenoodles talking late at night about MK's new situation Will they be worried? Happy? I don't think Pigsy will take it very well that just when he and MK accepted each other as Father and Son, he is (partly) taken away by his biological dads.
Pigsy was mostly worried that Wukong or Macaque would hurt in any way MK. Both ahim and Tang after they saw how much the 2 care about MK calmed down, still they just hope they don't mess up things.
Anonimo ha chiesto: parenting it not just about having fun with your children, but also making sure there are boundaries even if the child isn’t happy about it. So, how would it go if Macaque and Wukong would try to ground MK 😂
MK is a little old for being grounded I think but if they were to do it maybe with something like no training for a week or smt. He's still an adult (i know we sometimes forget)
Anonimo ha chiesto: MK trying to prank his parents and wake them up with a loud instrument or sound. MK forgetting he has sensitive hearing 💀
reverso uno card
Anonimo ha chiesto: Would wukong or MK help macaque in his drawings if he asked 🙃 or if they tried to help him improve
Awww they would!!! Actually what if this creative side of him was something he kind of inherted from Wukong?
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quimichi · 2 days
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⋆˚࿔ CUDDLING THE AEONS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
TW: might seem ooc, we don't know much about them yet lol, i gave them a humanoid/human body, just found out Xipe has 3 faces, lol i never saw it
SUMMARY: They cuddle their lover, most devoted follower...or their equal...
CHARACTERS: Aeons x F!Reader
WORD COUNT: 2.536
A/N: bet yall can't guess my favorite aeon + my fav path
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Aha
Each arm loops around your body, pulling you close against Aha's chest, your back to THEIR front. A leg is hooked across your hip, trapping you in the tight, warm embrace of all of THEIR limbs. THEY giggle delighted into your neck as THEY try to pull you in even further. You can feel the press of THEIR mouth against the back of your neck, THEIR breath warm like a cat purring against your skin.
"I love you," THEY mutter into your hair, THEIR voice quiet like a prayer. Unusual from THEIR usual loud voice and demeanor. THEY chuckle against your neck, THEIR breath fanning over your skin, sending little tingles down your spine. "I'm gonna eat you," THEY whisper against your ear, voice full of feigned malice, THEIR mouth stretching into a smile against your skin.
"You're mine, now." THEY snicker, their arms tightening around your body as they pull you a little closer, a little tighter, as if THEY could press the air from your lungs. "You're never escaping me...maybe i put you in a cage?" THEY tease, nuzzling the back of your neck, THEIR voice low and gravely in your ear.
"You're mine. Every little bit of you. From those pretty little ears all the way to those cute feet…"
Akivili
Akivili sighs happily and rests THEIR head against your chest. Every muscle in THEIR body goes lax and THEY practically melt against you. THEY'RE completely and utterly relaxed in your arms. "It's been too long..." you whisper mindlessly. "Too long." A longsuffering sigh escapes THEM as THEY press THEMSELVES closer into your arms, eyes closed blissfully, THEIR ear resting over your heartbeat.
"Much too long," THEY mutter, voice quiet and full of longing. THEY shift a little, moving to bury THEIR face against the crook of your neck, THEIR hair falling over your shoulder, soft as snow against your skin. THEY'RE silent for a few moments, simply breathing in your presence, lost in your scent, in the feeling of your skin on THEIR cheek.
"Trailblazing..." THEY mumble, "we should go again, like all this time before."
"You can't go one second with trailblazing, huh?"
"No."
Ena
Ena buries THEIR head into your chest and takes a shuddering breath. The sound of your heart beating against THEIR ear calms them like no other sound in the world ever could. It's almost...harmonic. THEY lift a hand and gently place it over the spot where your heart rests, as if THEY might feel life itself passing under your skin.
THEY have come undone, unravelled into the person they truly are. Vulnerable. Soft. And yet they feel safest in your arms. Your love is one of the few things that ground THEM. Your love is only towards THEM, you're loyal, ordered and THEIRS. Ena slowly moves, shifting a little to slide one of THEIR legs between yours. One of THEIR hands begins to wander. THEY can feel you against THEM with every movement they make, the way your body arches at THEIR touch.
"How do you feel human?" THEY ask, voice low and smooth as silk. The hand that is not gently trailing down your arm comes to rest on your hips, gently forcing you to hold still against THEM. THEIR touch is both soft and demanding, THEIR lips slowly working THEIR way down your neck until THEY reach your collarbone. Ena knows every spot to make you shiver, every place to make the heat inside you grow.
THEY continue to speak, although THEIR words are mostly meaningless. "You're mine. Don't forget that you are."
Fuli
Fulis chest is hard and cool to the touch, like glass. You can't feel THEIR heartbeat— there is no pulse beneath your fingertips. Fuli is still as a statue beneath you, only THEIR breathing telling you he's alive. The way THEIR chest rises and falls is like a wave, slow and measured against your body.
One of Fuli's hands lifts, slender fingers gently tracing along your chin, lifting your face up to meet THEIRS. THEIR eyes—blue like the cold of glaciers, grey as the rain—meet your own gaze.
"Look at me," they murmur. THEIR voice is just as gentle as their touch as they guide your chin up. "I want to look at you."
The hand cupping your chin moves, now, tracing along your jawline. Fuli’s index finger slowly traces just beneath the corner of your mouth.
"I want to crave you into my mind."
HooH
The equilibrium blinks, startled, then slowly relaxes, your weight on THEM familiar as the earth. Slowly, THEY bring THEIR hands to rest on your sides.
THEIR touch is unhurried, THEIR breath against your skin quiet. THEY carefully adjust, shifting themselves to make sure that you lie more to the left. Every move is precise, calculated to ensure that no symmetry is ruined. THEIR eyes never leave your face, watching you with the same intense devotion. Once you're settled, THEY fall still, their body taut against yours. THEIR hands continue to rest, feather-light, on your sides. THEY reach for your hair, fingers gentle. THEY carefully card through the strands, fixing it. Both hands move in perfect synchronization, as if the fingers on both were connected.
THEY keep fixing your hair for a long while, their face close to yours.
"Perfect."
IX
IX does not protest when you gather them in your arms as you found THEM in this endless black void. You always knew exactly where THEY were. THEIR body stiffens like a statue for a moment, a slight shiver trailing down THEIR spine, then THEY relax in your embrace. THEIR muscles uncoil slowly, until THEY'RE limp against you.
THEY don't pull away. THEY can't bring themself to. Not when THEY'RE warm in your arms. Not when the black void is so quiet around THEM and all they can hear is the soft sigh of THEIR own breaths. IX lifts their head from your chest and props THEMSELVES up on THEIR elbow, looking down at you with silent eyes and a tender expression. THEY lift their free hand to your cheek, THEIR touch feather-soft against your skin.
IX can't speak, bit THEIR actions tell enough. With incredible tenderness, THEY press a slow kiss to your jawline, then your neck.
You are everything for THEM.
Idrilla
THEY is practically lying on top of your body. THEY rest THEIR head on your shoulder, THEIR hair spilling down over your chest as THEY press against you. THEY feel safe here. Right in the crook of your neck, with the weight of your arm around THEM, your warmth surrounding them like a shield.
THEY let out a contented sigh, THEIR eyes fluttering shut as they nuzzle closer to you. "You're so warm," THEY murmur, the words half-hidden in your skin. Idrilla can practically feel your pulse against THEIR forehead, the thump-thump-thump of your heart a constant presence in THEIR ear. It's a comforting beat, steady and strong, like a soothing melody.
THEY rest their hand on your chest, right over your heart. THEIR fingers drum against your skin in time with the rhythm, almost subconsciously, as if to memorize every heartbeat with THEIR touch.
"I'm quite jealous my love, you are almost as beautiful as me...maybe even more beautiful...especially in my eyes and to my eyes only."
Lan
Lan is holding you from behind. THEY have one arm wrapped around you, fingers interlocking with yours. THEY have THEIR face pressed into your hair, THEIR breath gentle against your neck.
THEY'RE ’re not moving, merely holding onto you. It’s like THEY don’t want to let you go, even for a moment. Lan is completely silent, just holding you. THEIR fingers squeeze yours gently, THEIR thumb tracing the lines of your own, mapping out the shape of your hand beneath THEIRS.
THEY close their eyes and press THEIR forehead against your neck. Even the sound of THEIR breathing is measured, as if THEY'RE ’re trying to be as still as possible.
"Always," Lan vows. THEY shift behind you, pulling you even closer against THEIR chest.
"Always," THEY say again, a promise that rings in the air. "I'll watch over you. No matter what." Lan keeps you tight against THEM, every part of THEM pressed up against you. It's like THEY'RE trying to make sure you can't get away. "I will keep you safe." THEY say softly, THEIR voice as gentle as summer air.
"No one will harm you, I swear it."
Mythus
Mythus is holding you in THEIR arms; THEY are wrapped around your waist, THEIR chest pressed against your back. THEY is holding you so, so carefully. Like THEY is scared of harming you even though it is quite impossible
THEY inhale deeply, taking in the scent of your skin, feeling the comforting beat of your heart. Mythus mouths at the sensitive spot behind your ear, teasing it softly with the tip of THEIR tongue.
THEY can feel your shiver; how your body jerks, ever so slightly, at the contact. THEY'RE encouraged, emboldened perhaps, and continue to tease the sensitive skin behind your ear, leaving little nips and kisses across the flesh there. THEY can't help the chuckle that escapes THEM as they see the goosebumps rise on your body. THEY continue to tease the flesh, THEIR teeth worrying at the skin.
"Sensitive one, aren't you?" THEY mutter against your neck.
Nanook
Nanook is a warm presence beside you, pressing up against your back. One arm slings lazily across your waist, pulling you tight against THEIR chest. Nanook rests THEIR face against the back of your head and sighs. Nanook's arm tightens ever so slightly, shifting you a little closer against THEM. THEY press THEIR head against your shoulder, THEIR silvery hair spilling across your skin.
There isn't a sound in the room but the gentle rise and fall of your breaths; each of Nanook's exhales brushes across your neck like a sigh of contentment.
THEY are perfectly still, as if THEY are afraid you'll bewak from THEIR grip if they move a muscle. THEY don't want to break you ever, THEY want you in one full piece.
"Don't move, or I'll tighten my grip on you."
Nous
Nous lies on THEIR side, with THEIR head resting gently in your lap. THEIR eyes are closed, THEIR breathing slow and steady. THEY are completely enveloped by the feeling of your hand on THEIR hair, by the weight of your body next to THEM.
Nous shifts slightly, THEIR hand brushing against your leg. THEY murmur something to THEMSELF, but the word that leaves THEIR mouth is unintelligible. THEY lie still for a moment, THEIR breathing steady, as THEY take in the sensation of your fingers on THEM.
Nous head stays still against your thighs, THEY stay laying as if trying to commit this moment to memory. To remember this feeling.
"Why did your pulse quicken?"
"H-Huh?!"
"I know you better than yourself."
Oroboros
Oroboros rests THEIR upper body against your chest, head leaned against your shoulder. The creature curled around you lets out a quiet sound and THEY reach back to gently pat it with a slim hand.
"This is nice," THEY say finally, THEIR eyes slowly fluttering shut. "I could eat you up-! They want it too, ain't that right?"
The creatures let out another sound, a sound of approval. Oroboros's eyelids flutter shut as THEY nuzzle THEIR face into the crook of your neck and nip on your skin. A quiet sigh drifts through the air as THEY relax against you, slender shoulders losing their ever-present stiffness.
THEIR body against yours is surprisingly warm, a gentle heat like the summer sun against THEIR soft skin. The creature wrapped around the two of you lets out a low sound of contentment. The feel of its smooth scales and yours mixed with Oroboro's is an oddly pleasant one....a slimy one.
Qlipoth
Qlipoth is lying in your arms, THEIR head resting on your shoulder, THEIR face buried against your neck.
THEIR eyes are closed, the faint puffs of THEIR breaths hitting your skin as THEY hold you close. THEY nuzzle against you, burying THEIR face against you, THEIR arms wrapped around your waist. Qlipoth lets out a soft sigh, completely content in your embrace. THEY press THEMSELVES closer against you, seeking any bit of contact they can get.
THEY bury their face against your neck, the puffs of THEIR breaths ghosting across your skin and heating you from the inside out.
THEY tighten their grip on your waist, almost as if to stop THEMSELVES from letting you go. "I love you," they whisper, voice low and quiet.
"So you need to stay with me."
Tayzzyronth
Tayzzyronth feels complete when THEY are curled against your chest. Your skin is soft to the touch, and THEIR mind is blissfully calm. In the silence of your cuddling, all THEY hear is the sound of your breath, your heartbeat. All that matters is you.
THEIR head is tucked in against your collarbone. "I want a baby," THEY whisper, the words spoken with an almost desperate longing. "Nothing new." "I know." THEY bury themself against you again, nuzzling their face against your neck with a little sigh. "I still want one. I can't stop thinking about it."
Tayzzyronth lifts THEIR head, and THEIR mouth is at your ear as they speak. THEIR voice is hoarse with quiet hunger. "You'd look so beautiful pregnant." THEY draw the tip of their tongue along the edge of your earlobe. "If I did that to you… just the thought…"
Xipe
Xipe leans closer to you, THEIR hair catching the light and making THEM look almost angelic. THEY rest their heads on your chest and close THEIR eyes, letting THEMSELF melt into your arms. THEY are at peace, here with you.
THEY stay there, listening to the sound of your heartbeat and breathing in your scent. "Your heart..." THEIR voice is little more than a breath, soft enough to shiver in a summer breeze. THEY keep their head against your chest, the sound of your heartbeat comforting like the rhythm of waves on a sandy beach.
"Your heart beats faster with me," THEY murmur. THEY pause, lifting their head to look up at you, eyes shimmering.
"It's like a drum." A pause. Something vulnerable flickers across THEIR face. "It's like you are scared to let me go."
Yaoshi
Yaoshi leans closer instinctively and buries THEIR face in your hair, THEIR nose brushing against your neck. THEY don’t speak for a moment, content with simply being close to you.
THEIR lips are soft against your skin.
“You smell nice,” THEY murmur, the words coming out as a low rumble. "So tasty." Yaoshi shifts against you, THEIR arms sliding around your waist. THEY pull you closer, a silent display of THEIR need for you, THEIR want for you.
“I could lie with you forever.” THEY boop your nose. THEIR hands wander, almost idly running up your side, tracing the curves of your body as if THEY want to commit your figure to memory. Yaoshis fingers slip along the exposed skin of your back, pausing to press a palm against your spine.
“You’re mine now."
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oimitocat · 2 days
Text
BE PRETTY | OS
༘۠ park sunghoon x m!idol!reader
༘۠ fluff + idol life + implied nsfw
༘۠ a/n: watch this flop, it’s been years since i’ve written for kpop jaja….
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sunghoon knows your eyes are for him and him only. he could be walking across the stage, 30 feet across from you to receive an award yet still feel (and know) where your eyes are at. he doesn’t have to spot you out to know you’re watching him.
you’re both not public, it’s still hard for both of you. the public is not going to be happy with it, you both know it. yet, he doesn’t think he’s hiding the relationship and neither are you. matter of fact, the more obvious you are, for some reason the public doesn’t even notice or think too deep about it.
“jay said i have to hurry up,” he whispers as he meets you inside the stall in the bathroom.
“i just wanted to congratulate you baby, nothing more,” you smile charmingly and kiss his nose.
he hums softly, smiling at you. “ah… good because the makeup artists already left and can’t retouch my makeup.”
“that’s what you’re worried about?” you chuckle, “i wouldn’t dare.”
he rolls his eyes while you take his hand in yours. your thumb grazes over his knuckles, making him go lax. award shows are always stressful, you have to look perfect, you can’t express much and there are so many rules that his head wants to explode.
“are you free to call tonight?” you ask, kissing his jaw softly.
you have a habit of kissing his face, butterfly kisses are your favorite thing to do to him. he loves them too, feeling you love him.
“yeah, it’ll be pretty late though, like one? i have to shower and you know the drive is a little long.”
“that’s okay, i’ll always wait for you,” you hum, placing a final kiss on his lips. “you should go back now, just call me, okay?”
he nods, accepting the hug you give him. you’re so warm, he really wishes he could be in your arms longer.
“see you later, beautiful,” you say, pushing him away playfully.
“yah…” he glares at you before walking out.
the rest of the award ceremony goes on. the ride to the dorms feels too long, as much as he wants to shower fast and call you he can’t because he wants to feel clean and fresh. so after doing his skin care and finally getting under the sheets, he calls you.
the others are still up, still getting into bed or doing whatever they want before sleeping.
“hey pretty,” you say, groggy, as you had fallen asleep minutes before he calls.
“where’s your pretty face,” he demands softly, looking at the black screen.
“ah, hold on,” you grunt, moving around before your face is illuminated by your night lamp. “better?” you ask as you settle back into a comfortable position.
“mhm,” he nods, watching you.
you stare back at him, smiling. “ah, let me tell you about what happened during the changing rooms,” you say before rambling on about your group’s ruckus.
he listens intently, feeling peaceful at the sound of your voice. he closes his eyes, imagining that your next to him in person, rambling. he misses the rumble in your chest as you laugh, the warmth of your body as he’s under the sheets.
“hey…” you call out eventually.
he opens his eyes, staring back at you again. “hm?”
“you sleepy?”
“no,” he shakes his head, “i just like listening to you.”
“i know you love my voice but if you fall asleep on me i might cry.”
“what?” he laughs.
you grin at the sight of his expression.
“i love your voice so much it wakes me up.”
“hn?” you question, but at the sight of his teasing grin you catch on. “ah,, dangerous game there baby. my groups already asleep.”
“mine too…”
you stare at him before smirking. “sunghoon…” you say cautiously, eyeing him.
his eyes lit up, but he suppresses his smile. “yeah, yeah.”
and he shifts around, getting comfortable for what’s to come.
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strangemaleswaps · 3 days
Text
Strange Spellbook Swap
I've always wondered how couples stay together so long. My husband, Derek, and I had been married for 3 years now and while we get along great and support each other through everything, the sex had been pretty stale for awhile. Half the time he's not really in the mood and when he is, we usually just jerk off next to each other. I was getting tired of it and craved something more. But Derek was still so cute, him being a socially awkward nerd, and I was scared to tell him how I feel because he might cry.
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That afternoon, I was on my way to pick him up from work. We only had one car, but since both our jobs typically had the same shift, I always headed over to pick him up at his job at the library. I didn't actually have work today so I went a little earlier to look at some books. When I arrived, Derek noticed me and smiled real big.
“Hey! You're early!”
“Yeah, thought I'd browse a bit.”
“Ah ok. I just organized it all so you get to see my work!” He smiled again and continued helping customers in line.
I browsed through my favorite genre - fantasy. I always loved ones that involved magic, spells, and amazing worlds. I noticed one book that kinda stuck out a bit amongst the shelf. It was some kind of spellbook with a brown leather cover, and had a bit of dust on it, which seemed strange because the rest of the shelf was perfectly clean. I opened it up and found that it was indeed a spellbook. I wasn't the most superstitious person ever, but I did believe there was some kind of magical force out there that could do incredible things.
I flipped through the table of contents and noticed there was a category called “relationships”. I turned the pages to the section and saw a bunch of spells - ones to make someone fall in love with you, ones to get promoted at work, ones to impress your family, things like that. I was about to close the book when I found one page - how to spice up your sex life. That was just what I needed! Even if it didn't work, it couldn't hurt to try.
I walked over to the counter right as another guy started talking to Derek. He was a real muscular guy wearing a white shirt and tan hat. His pants left absolutely nothing to the imagination with the way they were tight fitting around his ass. A mustache covered his thick face, which complemented his bright green eyes. He was carrying a tote bag.
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“Hey can I help you?” He greeted the man with an eager attitude. “Need a book recommendation or anything?”
“Oh no I don't read.” The man spoke with a deep manly voice. “I mean, who has time to when you could be working out?” I could see the rare irritated look on Derek's face.
“Then…what do you need from the library?” He replied, much less eager than before.
“Just dropping off some books for the wife. We're going on vacation and they’re due tomorrow.” He took a couple books out of the tote bag.
“Allright. I can take them.” The man handed him the books and immediately turned around and left. Derek's smile returned when he saw me with a book in my hand.
“Hey! What'd you get?”
“It's a book of spells.”
“Of spells? Like real ones?”
“No way,” I laughed. “Just some dumb thing. Looks fun to read though.”
“Allright. Gotcha.” He checked me out and I sat down, waiting for him to finish the rest of the closing.
That evening after dinner I tried to seduce him but he wasn't having it once again.
“Sorry, work has me so exhausted you know?” I wish that I wanted to, but…well I just don't want to. Sorry.” I stood there defeated.
“Ok.” I let out an emotionless reply. As Derek brushed his teeth and got ready to head into bed, I flipped through the pages of the spellbook. I found the “spice up your sex life” spell and read the instructions. I needed to recite the incantation while looking at a picture of the two of us. I took out my phone, and scrolled through my gallery until I found the perfect picture. Then I started to recite the spell. Nothing happened. I tried again. Still nothing. At that point I was mad at him and now mad at the spellbook for wasting my time, so I headed into the bedroom. There I found Derek waiting for me.
“Hey…look I'm sorry. How about tomorrow morning we have some fun? I promise I'll go through with it!” Maybe the spell did work afterall! We both had a day off tomorrow so that was perfect. I was so excited that I could barely sleep.
The next morning I woke up to Derek nudging me awake. Excitedly, I turned over. But to my surprise, it wasn't him smiling at me, but a hairy guy with a mustache. He was giving me a sexy smile.
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“Hey…you ready?” He gave me a look of uncertainty and cleared his throat. I didn't even know what to say but I was so confused that there was total stranger in my bed, so I had to say something.
“Who are…you?” He frowned beneath his mustache.
“What do you mean? Oh no, am I having an allergic reaction somehow? That would explain my voice and why my eyesight is blurry even with my glasses on. It's me though! My face must be so puffy…oh god."
”Holy fuck. It's Derek! But this was far beyond an allergic reaction. He's an entirely different person! He pushed the covers off and was about to get out of bed, probably to take a look at himself in the mirror, when he glanced down at his body. This was definitely not normal. He was muscular, tan, and hairy - a stark contrast to what he normally looked like. He made a terrified face, which was a strange sight on such a macho guy.
“What? What's happening? I-I…” He looked at me with worry in his eyes, and it was then that I realized WHY this was happening. It must've been the spell. I guess turning your boyfriend into a muscle hunk would definitely spice up our sex lives. But I couldn't leave him in the dark.
“I-I,” I started. “It was my fault. That spellbook I got, I used it on you. I didn't expect this though!”
It was then that I realized WHO he was. That guy we saw at the library yesterday. He somehow swapped bodies with him!
“What? What spell was it?”
“Spice up your sex life. I just…was getting bored. And you were never in the mood.”
“Oh…but it turned me into this?” He then rushed to the bathroom. I followed. He immediately recognized himself as soon as he looked into the mirror.
“Hey! I'm that guy from yesterday!? Why did it turn me into him?”
“I-I don't know! Maybe it picked someone from a recent memory?”
He gazed at himself in the mirror with an open mouth, and touched all around his face, pinching and feeling his mustache.He gazed down and admired his new muscles, feeling all around his pecs and the chest hair growing from them. He then turned around and stared at the mirror again, this time making a variety of expressions.
“What am I supposed to do? I can't stay like this!”
“I don't know! There must be something about a reverse spell in the book.” Flipping through the book, I once again found the page I needed. I read every word but didn't find anything about a reverse spell. Could he be stuck like this?
“Maybe if we see like a professional?”
“What, like a fortune teller witch lady or whatever?”
“Exactly.”
“Well. I do remember seeing something like that close to town. A psychic. Maybe they can help?”
“We could try.” I looked up fortune tellers and found Madam Cleo - Psychic. It was a short drive away. I was hoping we would find our answers there.
“I got it.”
“One problem,” Derek said doubtfully.
“What?” He stared down at himself and then answered.
“I don't think anything will fit me now…” I couldn't help but laugh out loud.“I think we can find something at least.”
We dug through the closet and eventually found the Lakers jersey that my uncle gifted me a few years back. I wasn't even into basketball and it was a few sizes too big, but at least it helped us in the end! Derek slipped it on and gazed at himself in the mirror. It fit pretty nicely.
“Not really my style…but it'll do for now.” He put his finger on his chin and then rubbed his head. He froze when he grazed the back of it.
“What’s wrong?”
“I'm…balding.” He turned around and tilted his head up to show me. He definitely had a bad case of male pattern baldness. I thought it was pretty hot, but he looked terrified.
“Hmm…well. That's something we can just fix with a hat. I walked into the bedroom, grabbed one of my hats, and put it on his head. It completed the look well.
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“I guess this'll work. Maybe.” I laughed again.
“You'll be fine.”
We got to the car, Derek struggling a bit to fit in the passenger seat with his new frame, and headed over to the fortune teller. It was a warehouse-like building, although much smaller. As we were about to walk in, someone else walked out. He was a young looking guy around my age, but at least 200 lbs heavier. He looked like he made absolutely no effort to control his weight.
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“Hey! That lady is awesome!” He said excitedly. “She told my fortune and said that I would lose weight very soon! I can't wait!” He then ran off, his gross looking belly jiggling up and down, and drove away.
I kinda felt bad for people like that, that actually believe that sort of thing…what am I saying? We're the ones going to a fortune teller for help. I just really hoped she was legit then.
We walked in and found that the interior was nicely decorated, completely different from the outside. Shiny wooden floors, a chandelier, and LED lights hanging from the walls. All of that surrounded a crystal ball in the center. Within a few seconds a woman dressed in a typical fortune teller outfit appeared from a curtain in the back.
“What does the future hold for you two today? Let's find out,” she said with an ominous tone to her voice.
“Actually we're not here to get our fortunes told. We need your help.”
“What do you mean? She asked, dropping the ominous tone.
“Well my husband here is a victim to a body swapping spell gone wrong.” I showed her the book, flipping to the page.
“Oh my,” she said with a concerned look on her face. “This is very powerful magic indeed.”
“But how do we reverse it?”
“I don't know for sure. But the victim should try to recite it instead.
“Victim? You mean Derek? How would that work?”
“Do not question why things are the way they are. Now go!” She said suddenly. With that, we hurried back home to recite the spell.
“Ok how do I do this now?” Derek asked.
“Just recite the spell, and focus on a picture of us.” He recited the incantation.
“Nothing happened…how was it last time?”
“Same as this time. I guess it took awhile to take effect. What should we do in the meantime?” He didn't reply, but instead stared at himself in the mirror.
“You know, now that this face actually has a brain behind it, it's actually kinda hot.” He then walked over to me and got real close. I'd never been intimidated by Derek before for obvious reasons, but this time I couldn't help but feel dominated by his brawny self.
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“The spell picked this guy because you thought he was so hot didn't it? That's gotta be it.” He said with a low voice.
“Y-yeah. I admit it. He seemed dumb at the library but hey, he was a hunk.”
“And now I'm that hunk.” He started feeling all around his body again. He then glanced at his dick and began to stroke it. I knew exactly where this was going and I was all for it.
“Well then Mr. Muscle Hunk, why don't you show off that body a bit more?”
“I'd like nothing more…but I'm gonna go shower first. Who knows where this guy's been?”
“Yeah good idea. I'll be in the room.”
I was so excited! This was gonna be the hottest thing ever! I headed toward the closet to find something sexy to put on. Suddenly I felt a bit dizzy. I noticed my skin seemed to be glowing somehow. Within seconds it turned ghostly white, and then became so bright, it hurt to look at. Why was I glowing? It seemed to be just my body though, nothing was happening to my clothes. As quickly as it came, the glowing stopped and the dizziness returned. I didn't have time to see what happened, because as soon as the glow stopped I lost my balance and fell onto the nearby chair.
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My clothes felt incredibly tight, but it wasn't long before I realized why. I was fat! My shirt didn't even fit over my large belly. My pants must've popped a button as my gut hung over them. I tried to get up but the weight of my gut kept pushing me backwards. How do fat guys even do this?
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When I finally got up and onto my feet, I rushed to the mirror, my hanging belly flopping up and down. My face looked familiar…oh shit. I was that guy we saw at the fortune teller's! Did the spell do this? How did this happen?!
I heard the shower stop, meaning Derek was going to meet me here any minute now. I couldn't believe the hottest night of my life was about to be ruined! Why did this have to happen?
The door opened and there he was, standing there in a pair of briefs. They were always a little big on him, but with his new body, they were pretty tight. It looked like he shaved his head too. He stared at me, at first he looked shocked but then his expression changed. Was that a look of lust?
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“So the spell did something to you too?”
“Yeah…look at me! I'm a mess!” I jiggled my flabby moobs to prove my point.
“Well…”
“Well?”
“It's not so bad.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I mean…well you know how you said I look hot like this? And that the spell probably made me like this for that reason?”
“Yeah. What are you getting at…wait.”
“Mhm.” He mumbled with a sexy smirk.
“Y-you think I'm hot like this?!" He got real close and started making out with me. It was the most intense make out session I'd ever had. The feeling of his thick mustache rubbing against my face was a sensation I would've never expected could feel so good.
“Does that answer your question?”
“Yep,” I said with a smirk.
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flying-fangirls · 2 days
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As a music, religion, and literature nerd, the Dies Irae has been one of my favorite go-to pieces of trivia for a long time, which means that this line:
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Has been driving me batshit BONKERS since part 42! And also as a semi-professional media analysis yapper, I figured I might as well dive into the exact reasons I jumped up and audibly gasped upon first hearing this line and have subsequently lost my mind since then. So!
Here is why I think that the Dies Irae is the perfect analogy for John and Arthur:
Religion
Let's start with the most straightforward meaning: "Dies Irae" is a Latin term, and it translates to the "Day of Wrath." Or otherwise known as the Judgement Day, the foretold second coming in Catholic canon, when Christ will "come again in glory to judge the living and the dead." It's at this Last Judgement where God will wield perfect justice to send the worthy to everlasting peace and the unworthy to everlasting punishment. (everyone say "thank you" to excessive childhood Catholic lessons for burning this into my brain)
There's a kind of irony to the fact that Arthur so vehemently rejects Christianity and religion as a whole, and that John spends much of his arc trying to distance himself from the role/identity of a god, yet both are given this incredibly religious title, effectively restricting them from ever forgetting the presence/influence of religion in their lives.
This title has a couple layers though, because we have to consider why it's the Day of Wrath specifically that represents Arthur and John. Now, I don't think I have to tell you that those two are bursting with anger 80% of the time. But I am going to tell you that those two are not just angry, but moreso "divine fury" incarnate.
The Day of Wrath, the Final Judgment, is the final and eternal judgment of God on all: "For now before the Judge severe / all hidden things must plain appear; / no crime can pass unpunished here." (Dies Irae, Dies Illa). The final Judge, the all-powerful God, can see the objective morality of every single person, and is thus the sole, rightful determiner of fate.
This assumption of their right to perfectly and single-handedly decide others' worthiness shows up over and over, not just John and Arthur's actions, but also in how they describe these judgments.
When Arthur kills the widow on the island, it's not because she was dangerous, but because she was a cultist who "deserved" to be punished.
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When John and Arthur need to get rid of Mr. Scratch's stone, John says they should give it to "criminals" who are "deserving of this curse." Even though, just moments before, Arthur refused to give the stone to Oscar because to do so would be to cursing him to a fate of eternal suffering.
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And I can't go into every single detail about the entire Larson plotline because this post would double in size, but it obviously needs to be included here. Possibly the strongest tie between this arc and the idea of the Dies Irae is Arthur's conviction through it all. Arthur vows that he is going to kill Larson in divine retribution not because he wants to, but because he has to. He even goes so far as to admit that killing Larson will be a mistake, a cruel and overly-bloodthirsty action that goes against his compassion. But killing Larson isn't a choice to Arthur, it is the unavoidable punishment for Larson's sins and Arthur is simply the enactor of justice. Just like the Final Judgment, there is no sympathy, no hesitancy— the judgment is absolute, divinely ordained, and cannot be stopped no matter how undeniably horrific it is.
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If we look at the Catholic Catechism, principle 2302 states that it is sinful to kill out of desire, but that it is "praiseworthy to impose restitution" and use violence to "maintain justic." So even if Arthur has intent to kill, his actions count as divinely sanctioned. He is acting as the hand of God's punishment.
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Over the course of Season 3 and 4, Arthur's fiery rage dies down to a more gentle simmer, but his conviction only seems to grow, and John follows suit. Despite previously reprimanding Arthur for his unquestioning wrath, John eventually becomes just as convinced that Larson "deserves" to face a wrathful reckoning. The "fact" that Larson is wholly unforgivable and is fated to receive eternal punishment becomes more indisputable in their minds, and they both stop questioning the morality of their intentions, entirely convinced of their judgment.
Throughout the story, Arthur and John insist upon the importance of kindness, compassion, and forgiveness, and say that these are the values that guide their every action. Yet, time and time again, they approach certain people with nothing but wrath and resentment. It's a sharp contrast to the benevolent figures they make themselves out to be, and Arthur and John are often blind to the contradiction because, in their eyes, they are still following those values in every action. And in the moments when they do recognize their horrific words or actions, they still cannot let their judgment go, convinced that it is their "duty" either way.
In Part 35, Arthur says "Just because you can't make the hard decision, doesn't mean it's wrong." This is exactly how John and Arthur view themselves. They know that some of their actions are harsh and violent and painful, but they are don't view that violence as wrong, because they are enacting that violence in justice. They move through life with carefully-selected destruction, culling the world of those they view as unforgivable sinners, and punishing them with divine righteousness. Arthur and John carry righteous fury in their every step, bringing the Day of Wrath down upon the world around them.
Now, there's already a ton of meaning just in this religious allusion alone. However, there's another application of the Dies Irae in modern culture, which brings us to the second side of this title:
Music
Back in the 13th century (sounds like a familiar setting...), friar Thomas of Celano wrote a poem for and about the Dies Irae. The poem was recited at Requiem Mass (church services to honor the dead), and it ended up being set to a Gregorian chant tune.
Over time, this melody has been used by a variety of composers, but the one we're focused on is Hector Berlioz. In 1837, Berlioz used the Dies Irae melody as part of his narrative symphony, Grand Messe de morts, in order to communicate that the main character had died. Then a lot of other composers saw that and said "Hey that's a cool idea!", and started also using this melody to represent death in their music. Nowadays, it's a fairly staple part of modern film and musical storytelling. If you've listened to literally any major soundtrack, then there's a good chance you've heard this motif (or a variation of it) used before. It's often subtle, sometimes loud and obvious, but no matter what, it reveals the inevitable presence of death. (essentially, the Dies Irae=death)
Now, obviously there's something tragically ironic about Arthur being likened to a musical motif when he tries so hard to distance himself from it, and there's something tragically ironic about John being associated with such a dark piece of music when he shows so much fascination and joy toward the art. Again, though, we've got some layers here. Yorick doesn't just compare Arthur and John to the Dies Irae, he literally defines them as the Dies Irae, a full embodiment of it.
Even before the story started, Arthur lost both of his parents, his friend and wife, his daughter, and his best friend.
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John, when he was part of the King in Yellow, knew only how to harm and attack. In the Dark World, he falls back on this fearful lashing out with violence, harming even more people.
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And throughout the story, John and Arthur seem to bring devastation to everyone else around them: Lilly the buopoth, Oscar, Noel, Collins, Daniel, Larson and Yellow.
The arrival of Dies Irae musical motif in a film always indicates that death is approaching or that is has already struck— a host carrying its blight to spread onto others. Just like the musical motif, the arrival of Arthur and John foretells the near-arrival of death. They play a duet together— John and Arthur, and death— always singing and dancing around and with each other.
These two never succumb to death, always finding a way to slip through its fingers and survive every situation. But they cannot escape death's presence because they are death's partner— singing the melody to death's subtle harmony. They cannot escape death because they are its host— destined to carry and spread devastation to death's victims. From the moment you meet John and Arthur, you know that death is inevitably approaching just a step behind, waiting to strike you down.
Whether it's the religious or musical side, we can see that John and Arthur are the literal embodiment of these allusions. They carry these powers and ideas in their every action and word, in their every step, in their very breath and blood.
Arthur and John. The hands of God's justice. The enactors of divine fury.
Arthur and John. The hosts of blight and destruction. The partner of death's song.
The man himself. The voice inside his head.
The Day of Wrath. The Dies Irae.
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some-stars · 1 day
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REC POST REC POST REC POST LIKE IT'S 2005
im gonna do more of these, but this one is "poolverine(-adjacent) fics where they have serious relationship conflict besides pre-confession pining and miscommunication". please enjoy! leave comments!
The One Where Logan and Wade Learn How to be Boyfriends (series), ashe_urbanipal Literally you could not describe a story/series in a way more designed to push all my most favorite buttons. They have to figure this shit OUT!! It's MESSY!!! And they keep TRYING and getting gradually, unevenly better at it, mostly!!! The love confessions happen in the first fic in the series and then we get into the MEAT of it all. Brain damage, jealousy, trauma, and intense relationship-repairing conversations while having fingers cut off. This series has it ALL.
Come Hell or High Water, farmhandler Another wonderfully messy long fic that acknowledges these guys need serious therapy. The deep affection and intense frustration are both so REAL, it makes me so happy.
Blood, Dirt, Love (Stop), por_queeee The relationship issues are resolved without TOO much difficulty here but they're definitely present, and also this fic has my absolute favorite take so far on Logan's X-Men-related trauma and how that might play out for him.
Don't Want To Be A Fool For You, HeavensAche This is just deliciously complicated and messy and beautiful. Like honestly I could list specific things but if you want the slow tangled process of them figuring their shit out, this DELIVERS.
Like a Little Prayer, whiskeywitch This one is very short but it's probably my favorite take on the "Logan skewers Wade during a nightmare" scenario. Intense but understated, not easily fully resolved.
It's Not Fucking Nice, Thestarvedghost I really enjoy this exploration of how Logan's two hundred years of issues and damage would weigh heavy on his relationship with Wade, no matter how much they love each other. A really interesting way to bring Logan's Victor issues into it, too. (Me being me, I should probably specify that this contains NO sibling incest, just deeply abusive and unhealthy relationship dynamics.)
the girlfriend experience, kekinkawaii In which Wade FUCKS UP, big time. Happy ending but GOD, I love when they really truly badly hurt each other.
so leave me my liver and leave me my skin (leave me the way all those other homes did), iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid Love when Logan gets to be an absolute fucking mess of trauma and poor coping skills. With a hopeful ending, even! (This one is gen but it's still in great part About Them.)
themes for future rec lists: best smut, my favorite honda odyssey fics, Just Really Fucking Good Shit, cablepool, ???
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 27: Take Me Back To The Beginning
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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.
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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.
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"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. 😊
Taglist:
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@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs
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dear-ao3 · 2 days
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bucket of facts here. This is one of my favorite f1 things ever, apologies for how long it ended up being:
In the 1980’s, formula one teams, notably BMW, added toluene to their fuel mixtures. If that word sounds like it’s probably dangerous, that’s because it is — most people know it as rocket fuel. It’s extremely poisonous and carcinogenic, but did have some upsides! For one, it was less volatile [citation needed] than what they had been using, making is slightly less dangerous in the event of a crash (by 1970’s-80’s F1 standards that just means in only turned into a small bomb most of the time). It was also denser and burned faster, so the same amount of toluene could give much more power than the standard F1 fuel.
While the new fuel did allow them to run higher turbo pressures, it did it have a tendency to increase turbo pressure as it was run during the race, and everyone ran turbos at this time. They had to dial back the turbo pressure from what it’s max could’ve been, just to compensate for the power of the fuel — this mitigated the admittedly high likelihood that the engine decided to submit its two weeks notice on two seconds of warning (read: it caught on fire and sometimes kinda maybe sorta just exploded).
Modern f1 fuel has an RON octane rating of 95-102. The toluene aided fuel had an RON octane rating of 120+. For context, your car probably runs on about 87 RON. For those unfamiliar, RON octane ratings measure how much compression fuel can be put under before it sparks, which is how engines work: compress fuel, spark, make power (I can explain that better if you want but short version is that). This incredibly high octane level allowed the engines of the time to be run at a much higher compression, which had a myriad of bonuses to the cars.
Current F1 regulations are 1.6 litre V6 engines that rev to 15,000 RPMs (max allowed) and produce a max of 850 BHP (horsepower) when they’re pushing the edge of their abilities without aid of electric components like H/KERS, which is used to boost the cars to around 1,000 BHP.
Brabham-BMW’s 1983 engine took Nelson Pique to his WDC that year. It was a 1.5 litre inline 4 (so smaller than current) and produced 12,000 RPMs, as the restrictions were a bit tighter there back then. Without electronic aid like today and a smaller engine than your standard Toyota Camry, it easily produced 850 BHP at race trim, the version built to last a whole race. When in qualifying trim, with everything tuned to maximum to get the most out of the car without it blowing up, it ran at 1,250 BHP. Original testing put it at producing over 1,400 BHP, but BMWs testing facilities couldn’t measure past that — the car put out more power than they could even register.
The teams also had a sneaky loophole: the amount of fuel allowed to be held at once in the car (refueling was banned at this time) was effectively limited to how large the gas tank could be. The teams realized that they could literally freeze the fuel and store it at cold temperatures. This compacted the fuel, allowing them to put more fuel into the gas tank — more fuel per fuel, really. This allowed drivers to be more aggressive and push harder more often, not having to worry about running out of fuel.
In case this whole toluene thing seems bad, don’t worry! It’s only used in nail polish, rubber, adhesives, and paints :3
hit me up for more facts if you want
oh my
anon bestie i might in fact be in love with you
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vxnuslogy · 2 days
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— a proper knight.
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pairing: dainsleif x gn!reader
premise: fading memories of bygone pasts are no stranger to dainsleif, but if there were two things he still remembered it's his journey with an outlander, and his beloved mentor who loved flowers.
— warnings: slight angst if you squint
— author's note: khaenri'ahn people will always hold a special place in my heart. this has been in the drafts for so long and it's finally going to see the light of day!!! thank you ray ( @mikashisus ) for proofreading this <3. art credits to @.birdsofpasssage on twt. | 2.1k words.
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a knight has seven virtues: courage, justice, mercy, generosity, nobility, hope, and faith. dainsleif often wondered why faith was a virtue he must have to become a knight, it seemed silly to have in a nation that believed in no god, but he was proven wrong when he first saw you.
“the nation’s finest knight,” “khaenri’ah’s greatest talent,” and “the light bringer.” these were all the titles given to you in your many years of serving this nation. just like how his father told him, khaenri’ah’s finest knight was fearless, just, and merciful. you embodied the hope this nation craved—a guiding light. he often wondered what exactly you saw in him to take him as your apprentice. but when he asked the question, you gave no reply and asked, “what’s your favorite flower?”
dainsleif was confused—was this flower loving knight really khaenri’ah’s greatest talent, the same harsh instructor everyone feared? dainsleif let out a heavy breath when he realized he might have signed up for the wrong job. but like the first time he saw you swing the sword, all his initial doubts were quenched. you simply loved flowers because they contrasted your brutal animosity on the battlefield—a reminder of the fragile and beautiful home you grew up in and the weight of khaenri’ah’s fragile hope of the world.
yes, you were harsh, and yes, you criticized every swing of his sword, but you cared. deeply so that you would drop to one knee in front of a crying knight who profusely apologized for retiring—the burden of being a hero was too great. you would take the burden of others out of their hands and carry them yourself, even if it meant burning out the light the people gave you. 
that day, dainsleif found a new purpose for being a knight: to ease your burdens and see you rest under beds of the flowers you loved the most, free from all worries. so he trained, long and hard until all his bones began to quake and beg for rest, and even then he never stopped. he trained until he adopted your way of fighting in the bloodshed—even when bloodied and on the brink of death, turn to your comrades and give them hope; a reason to fight until the end. he learned to bask in your silent company, weaving inteyvat like second nature, as if these delicate flowers could bind both of your souls together in a silent promise. 
you were quiet in your affections and bitterly cold in your duties, but even when dainsleif hangs his head low as you appoint him his title, he feels the gentle grip on your sword. he hears the crowd cheer and applauds, he takes this as a sign to raise his head, and he’s grateful for the neutral expression you’ve instilled in him since his trainee days. one soft look in your eyes that’s directed at him and he’d go down on his knees and kiss the ground beneath your feet—offer you the stars that hang in the sky and demand a seat reserved just for you in celestia’s abode.
the both of you sneak away from the festivities and dainsleif takes this chance to ask, “why the title of twilight sword?”
he believed you wouldn’t answer—you never did—and to no one’s surprise, you simply placed an inteyvat behind his ear. gloved hand brushing his hair back and securing the fragile flower in place with khemia. 
“you’re still young, my stubborn apprentice,” you start, voice carrying years of wisdom unknown to him. “you’ll understand when you’re a proper knight.”
dainsleif furrowed his brow in contemplation. wasn’t he already a proper knight? the title given to him should prove it, so what did your words mean? dainsleif should’ve stayed in the garden until dusk arrived. cherished the already scarce moments he had with you, but you can’t blame him for the hurt you had caused because how dare you view him as a little boy. 
he’ll never have the chance to yell at you or even get mad because, by the next few days, his home will be bathed in a crimson catastrophe. dainsleif couldn’t even process anything properly as you jumped into action—carrying the sword in your hand, cape flying with the wind as you barked orders. “protect the people! you are all knights, experienced or not, your duty is to protect your home.” your voice reverberated in the chaos before diving into the battlefield head first.
you were nowhere in sight and dainsleif had never felt so helpless in battle. all the confidence he's built over the years comes crumbling down as he forces his band of knights to retreat—their defeat was already set in stone. but he couldn’t give up yet so he stayed in the fray, swinging his sword, searching for survivors, and hoping to catch up to you. he knows he’ll die if he doesn’t retreat but he can’t bring himself to be sheltered when you’re still out there, fighting for your life.
the sky burned a deeper crimson as the fury of the god’s raged on. amid the battle, you stood there, all on your own, a figure of unwavering resolve and devotion. dainsleif watched in silent agony as you took down monster after monster, racing against the time you don’t have. he knew, dainsleif knew deep down you would not come with him, and that thought makes him falter. how can you, the person who taught him to fight for all he’s cared about, suddenly teach him how to leave everything behind?
“[name!]” he shouts, voice being lost amid battle, as he runs in your direction. dainsleif feels a bile rise to his throat as he tears his gaze away from the bodies littered at your feet. the flowers you dearly loved were now revolting. “we need to retreat.”
“i cannot,” you cut down his hope like a knife. you turn to face him, all the hope he once admired in you now gone as you walk farther away from him. “leave, dainsleif. let me handle the rest.”
“i won’t leave you here to die in vain.” he catches your wrist and tugs at you in the direction of safety. “we’ve lost, light bringer. please, retreat with me.”
you break his hold on your wrist, your gloved hands stained with blood cradle his face before shoving him harshly and desperate. “my duty lies here in khaenri’ah and i will die upholding it. but you are different my stubborn apprentice, allow yourself to be more than just the twilight sword.”
“what am i supposed to protect if you aren’t there to encourage me?” he questions, unsure of his purpose if you weren’t there to help him.
but you only smile—kind and reassuring. “you will make a fine knight one day, dainsleif. do not let this one defeat sway your resolve. i did not train you to give up easily. now go,” you push him further and further as the monsters roared and the gods rained their fury.
the weight of your decision was palpable—dainsleif couldn’t bring himself to breathe as you jumped into battle once again. he wanted to be your sword, the one to aid you in battle even when he’s no more than a rusty piece of scrap metal. he wanted to scream at you, how could you abandon him so easily when he’s spent all these years staying by your side? but you still turned back, eyes no longer as hopeful as before but they still flickered faintly. 
“carry on, dainsleif,” you whisper to him from a distance, amidst all the screams and crimson sky, dainsleif still hears you. it was not a command—it was a promise.
dainsleif’s last memory of you was the beds of inteyvats beneath your feet and the tears that stained your cheek. that was over 500 years ago, and the memory of that cataclysm was still a fresh wound in his mind. in those 500 years, dainsleif traversed through teyvat, following every and any trail of the abyss order to put an end to this madness. all the while, he found himself picking flowers from each nation, pondering which would be your favorite.
he’s always imagined your second meeting to be bittersweet; a harsh cut to the heart with you laughing at someone while dainsleif stood on the sidelines. but that wasn’t you at all, because when you do meet for the second time, it’s by a bed of sumeru roses and wild flora as you indulge in the aranara’s amusement. 
dainsleif has always thought you were meant to be like this, not a valiant knight covered in scars and blood, but an angel bathed in moonlight as you sang the kids a lullaby and wished them a good night. you were meant for flowers and crowns, not a sword or shield. 
he takes one step, then two, and then he fully stops. dainsleif wanted to approach—the yearning to catch up with the mentor he grew to love—but he was scared. who was he to disturb your fragile happiness? you had survived a great catastrophe and are now living a happy life, he no longer had a part to play in your story. this guilt for failure was his and his alone to carry. who was he to disturb your quiet sanctuary when he left you behind for 500 years?
“not going to say hello to your old mentor?”
dainsleif feels an arm drape across his shoulders, bringing him down to face your height as your other hand comes to pat down his blonde hair. “i taught you to be chivalrous and courteous. don’t tell me you’ve forgotten in a measly five-hundred years?”
500 years wasn’t a number to scoff at, yet here you were, the same hair that was swept away from your eyes and the same confident stance. you let him go and the two of you fall into a silent walk. to where? dainsleif’s not quite sure. he didn’t want to drag you into his scuffle with the abyss, he’d much rather have you stay somewhere in sumeru where you’d be safe. but he knew, deep down dainsleif knew, you wouldn’t pass up the chance to know what truly happened that day.
“you’ve been blessed with a new life,” he mentions and motions to the cryo vision on your hip. “you can leave khaenri’ah behind now.”
you only shook your head. “teyvat has treated me well these past five hundred years, but i’d much rather come back home.”
dainsleif presses his lips into a thin line and says nothing. what could he say, after all, throughout the years he’s been with you, not once has he ever convinced you to retreat. he was snapped out of his daze when your hand came to pat the back of his head. you no longer wore gloves, and dainsleif swore he could feel every callous and gentle press of your palm.
“you’re so grown up now,” you say in jest, eyes twinkling with uncontained amusement. “don’t take my last statement about you to heart, dainsleif. you have always been a proper knight, i just didn’t want to see you go so soon.”
he stays silent and allows you to pat his head like a child. when the two of you start walking again you tell him your reason for his title.
“twilight is when light and darkness merge,” dainsleif’s eyes never once left yours as you talked. you just smile and continue. “it’s a period where the world becomes uncertain, just like you. that’s why dusk is the one to give birth to dawn.”
dainsleif lets out a small sound between a scoff and laugh. “i still don’t understand why you carry the title of dusk. why not let someone else carry the burden?”
you chuckle and look over to the horizon. “i simply do not wish for someone to suffer as i have.”
“you’re foolish,” he mutters and you hum in reply. he tears his gaze from you and instead looks over to the rising sun in the distance. “why did you choose me that day?”
“you were the only knight who would willingly cross hell before he arrived in heaven.” 
dainsleif furrows his brow in confusion. even after 500 years, you still spoke in riddles he couldn’t decipher without any hints. “i have no desire to go to heaven if you’re not there. my duty will always be bound to the abyss.” 
“like a mentor, like a mentee, still so stubborn to uphold a duty that’s long passed. but even then, you’ve become a fine knight, dainsleif.” you compliment.
“i had a stubborn teacher, but they were the best of the best. the greatest knight in khaenri’ah.” there was a joking air to his response and you let out a chuckle. your hand comes to rest at the back of his head and gently pat it as you both look away from the rising sun.
“well, shall we go back home now?”
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© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.
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robin-bakery · 2 days
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𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 🐲🐲
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A dragon is a magical legendary creature that appears in the folklore of multiple cultures worldwide. Beliefs about dragons vary considerably through regions, but dragons in Western cultures since the High Middle Ages have often been depicted as winged, horned, and capable of breathing fire. 
Ps : this headcanon has a lot of references to dungeon meshi my new favorite anime
( English is not my first language )
since dragons are one of my favorite mythical beings and the world has their own version of the dragons in their own culture, I'm planning on making two or more of different types of dragon!yuu head Canon and so I'll be starting with the western style dragons.
I imagine they have 3 forms of transformations.
( the first : human form ) one is basically their human form, the form where they usually interact with people. But some of their dragon features would still appear like their tail and horns
( the second : chimera form ) is basically basically their human form as the upper body while their dragon forms as the lower body with 2 pairs of large wings.
( third one : dragon form ) is just their full dragon form
The second form would be 11 meters. and the third form would be 30 meters. Depends on you guys headcanon, dragon!yuu could have feathers or not, you guys can add in your own unique features on them, I also imagine them being able to use magic and having some sort of healing factors
First scenario : basically dragon!Yuu were confused about where they were and their first instinct is to attack because they might get captured and so it leads to a dragon!yuu vs multiple students and staff, trying to detain them or calm them down. After a while they manage to calm them down.
Second scenario : they appear the same way in the game, in the coffin and when grim was setting the school on fire, dragon!yuu manage to save multiple students from the fire and cast a spell to stop the fire.
when fighting the overblots, I imagine them fighting in their chimera form and by flying to the sky opponent in hand and then crushing down their opponents to the ground, very effective or not they might use their tail to launch their opponent backwards and then cast a spell on them. But don't worry when the battle is down, dragon!yuu will heal the injured characters using recovery magic or ressuraction magic to heal damages That might be permanent.
Malleus and dragon!yuu would definitely build a connection with each other, both of them came from dragon descendants. They would definitely have a deep relationship with each other whenever or not it's platonic or something romantic depends on you guys.
imagine dragon!yuu has a habit of hoarding things they might think is precious, I imagine dragon!Yuu shows it off to people that are the closest to them with so much pride.
Dragon!yuu would also have a large appetite, they can eat an entire cafeteria worth of foods in one day without troubles but they have to suppress their appetite to make sure most of the students get some food. So they usually go hunting for food in the forest or somewhere else. They also have a strong digestive system to the point it can withstand Lilia cooking without troubles and also with a little help with their healing factor abilities.
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warlocksoup · 20 hours
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on the way ⋆✴︎˚。⋆ k. sakusa
masterlist
tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, established relationship, grief, awkwardness/tension, family member death, funeral, mentions of a dysfunctional family
a/n: me stop writing abt dead brothers challenge failed. sorry im coping still.
word count: 1.6k
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07:00AM
His alarm goes off. It’s dreary and gray outside. Her body’s absent from the left side of the bed.
It doesn’t take very long to find her, and Sakusa doesn’t try very hard. He rolls out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and drags his feet into the living room. She’s standing out the window, looking out of it. He’s not surprised. Staring out windows silently, pensively, is a lot of what she’s been doing lately.
Sakusa approaches her from behind. She doesn’t flinch or acknowledge when his arms snake around her middle. “Are you going to get ready soon?”
08:43AM
They’re late. Thirteen minutes late to leaving. Sakusa doesn’t make a thing out of it, like he normally would. He doesn’t say anything at all as she climbs into the passenger seat and unceremoniously throws her back into the backseat. Sakusa figures that’s his cue that he’s the one driving. He doesn’t complain about this, like he normally would.
Once he’s settled in the driver’s seat, he takes a moment to wrap a wide hand around her knee, squeezing slightly, even though they’re running late. She doesn’t react. Sakusa looks at her, lips pursed together like he’s waiting for some kind of reaction from her. He’s been waiting for a reaction since the news broke. “You ready?” he asks.
She turns her head to look at him with her eyes dry and decorated with heavy, purple shadows. “Yeah,” she replies, voice devoid of animation, flat and stale. “Let’s go.”
Her grief makes him uncomfortable. Sakusa can only think of how uncomfortable it makes him as he pulls away from their home. He knows this makes him bad person. Or at least, it’s a bad feeling for him to have. He knows that he should be supportive, whatever that means, and that he should be a partner she can rely on.
Whatever that means. Sakusa hasn’t figured it out yet.
It might be easier if she cried. He would at least know what to do then. He could take her in his arms and tell her it’s okay to cry and he would make her some of her favorite food and do things that loving, doting partners do in times of grief and sorrow. But she hasn’t cried. She hasn’t done anything but stare out the window and become a whittled down, blank version of herself.
He feels like all he can do is stare and wait. Just watching as she slowly dissolves, day-by-day.
The car pulls onto a main road. There’s traffic.
09:32AM
She doesn’t play music. None of her aggressive and headache inducing rock music or bubbly and headache inducing pop music. It’s just silence. The wind that sneaks in through the backseat window that never fully closes, and Sakusa’s breathing.
There’s nothing else.
He keeps looking at her, glancing at her for just a second when the road in front of him is clear. He’s taking stock of her expression, checking for slight changes and variations. But each time he looks, her lips are slightly downturned, eyes half-closed, cheek resting in the palm of her hand.
She’s unmoving, statuesque.
Sakusa watched when she got the call. He saw in real time as her mind started to shut down. With her phone pressed against her ear, standing in the kitchen with a half-cooked pot of curry, he watched as any traces of joy or excitement slip off face like melting snow plummeting off a roof. “Oh,” is what she said, “thanks for telling me.” That was all Sakusa heard before she hung up and turned to deliver the news back to him.
“My brother’s dead.”
He took hold of her at once. He whispered condolences into her hair, and he felt her shake but he never heard her sob or cry or anything.
She’s looked the same since then. She looks the same now.
He steals another glance at her, hoping for something different. It’s the same.
10:04AM
 She talks. Sakusa feels like it’s the first time she’s talked in days.
“He used to carry me around the neighborhood on his shoulders,” she says, out of nowhere. It makes him jump, slightly, before he steadies the steering wheel. He glances again. She still hasn’t moved. “His friends used to pick on me a lot but he always defended me. One time I caught him smoking cigarettes behind the house, and I pretended like I was going to tell our mom, but I didn’t. When my mom disappeared, he made sure I still went to school. Packed my lunches and everything. And when I was really little, I remember being confused. Because sometimes he felt like my brother, but a lot of the time he really just felt like my dad.”
Sakusa’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. He thought he would have something to say, but he doesn’t. Nothing feels right.
10:36AM
They’re late. Sakusa has a nervous pit in his stomach about this, but everyone else in her family is later than them.
She hugs her mom, looking stiff as she does, and returns to Sakusa’s side as soon as the awkward embrace is over. He holds onto her hand and doesn’t let it go for the rest of the service.
He listens to people talk about him. Sakusa never met her brother, never knew him personally, but it seems like the him that existed to everyone else didn’t exist to her. They get up there and they talk about him and the dark path he was on and how far he had strayed and how he was so untouchable, unsavable.
She’s stiff beside him the entire time. It seems like she’s holding her breath. Sakusa has to lean down and whisper in her ear, “Breathe.”
Her shoulders rise and fall.
11:49AM
She looks smaller in her childhood home, but she moves around it like she’s too big for the space. Sakusa still won’t let go over her hand.
In her brother’s childhood room, she flicks through piles of CDs and old mangas. There’s posters for bands Sakusa’s never heard of on the wall. There’s a half-full jar of foreign coins and trash that still hasn’t been emptied. Sakusa feels that it is all too intimately human.
Her fingers graze along the spine of a book that’s shoved under small television on his dresser. Love is a Dog from Hell. “He never read this,” she comments, lifting her fingers away. The tips of them are coated in dust. “He stole it from me, and then never gave it back.”
Sakusa watches her carefully. Her shoulders are more relaxed in this space, and there is a ghost of a smile on her face. He doesn’t want to make her leave, but he knows she can’t stay here, surrounded by memories and dust. “Do you want to take anything home?” he asks.
This makes her frown, and he doesn’t know why. “I can’t just take it from him,” she tells him, sounding so small.
She doesn’t need to take anything, anyways. Her mother prepared a small box of belongings that she thought her daughter would appreciate it. She shoves it into her arms on the way out, and it finds itself stuffed into Sakusa’s trunk.
12:59PM
She wanted to leave early, so they left early. She wanted to drive home, so Sakusa let her drive home.
She put in a CD for the drive home. It’s sad. If Sakusa felt like he knew better, he’d tell her that maybe they shouldn’t listen to something so depressing. That maybe they should let the radio play or they could talk about something. But Sakusa doesn’t feel like he knows anything.
He doesn’t feel like he even knows her, right now. Not shrouded in grief, not with this black veil pulled over her eyes. He doesn’t know what’s best for her. He doesn’t know how to help her or how to make anything better, even slightly.
He reaches over the center console and lets his hand rest on her thigh. He leaves it there this time. He doesn’t know if she appreciates it or likes the comfort or if she even notices at all. But he leaves his hand there, and hopes it does something.
03:02PM
They get home. She goes inside without grabbing the box. Sakusa gets it for her, and puts it somewhere where she won’t have to see it, if she doesn’t want to.
05:22PM
Sakusa cooks dinner. Her favorite. Definitely not curry. She eats it in small bites, and then takes a shower that lasts too long. He cleans, and listens for the sounds of her.
07:54PM
She’s in bed already. Funerals take a lot out of you, he figures. He joins her, if for no other reason that he doesn’t want her to be alone. She’s on the let side. He’s on the right.
His arms snake around her middle. He pulls her closer and kisses the side of her face. “I love you,” he tells her, because it’s true, and he wants her to know it. Even if he’s useless. Even if all he can do is watch.
He can almost feel it cracking in her chest. The way it boils over. She inhales sharply, and says, “Kiyoomi,” in a pitch or two higher than she normally speaks, like she’s out of breath. “I really miss him. I miss my brother.”
Sakusa tightens her arms around her as the sobs let loose. It rocks through her violently, and he holds her through it all. “I know,” he whispers back. “I know.”
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lovemyromance · 23 hours
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Now this has likely already been analyzed and theorized over the course of the past 3-4 years in this fandom, but since I haven't seen it before I am presenting a theory:
We all read the Elriel moment with the potato dish in ACOSF and clocked it as something interesting. It's not necessarily romantic per se, but it's thoughtful. It's odd enough to call attention to such a normal scene of serving dinner that I raised my eyebrows and wondered why SJM even wrote this.
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Now, bear with me while I present the same content for the 308th time probably, but this time, like a tour guide at Jurassic park:
A few things to call out here:
See how Elain goes still at the sight of Azriel? It's parallel to that scene in ACOWAR where Cassian & Azriel both go still at the sight of Nesta & Elain.
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Then we have Azriel. He "just moved towards her", like it was instinct. AND THEN - here's the real keep-you-awake-at-night point: Mor tenses
Why does she tense? Why are HER reactions to Elriel moments always so peculiar? Even in ACOWAR, we have this moment when Azriel disappears (where did he go?) and Mor stares at where he had been standing? What is Mor thinking?
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It's interesting because we don't know what her powers are other than "Truth" - whatever tf that means. What if she sees something between Elain & Azriel that surprises her, even?
The story gets even deeper when you combine Azriel AND Feyre questioning the cauldron. I cannot stress this enough when I say that no other pair of mates has been questioned in this series other than Elain & Lucien. You have MULTIPLE main characters describing their relationship or lack thereof as uncomfortable and questioning their bond.
Now, I'm not going to sit here and say the Elucien bond is fake. I don't think it is, but I genuinely think Elain - as the cauldron's favorite - might have two bonds. One with Lucien - Cauldron Made, likely to provide strong offspring but not necessarily an ideal love match, like Rhys & Tamlin's parents. But then also one bond with Azriel, which is blessed by the Mother, which is more similar to what Feysand and Nessian have.
And I think that entire scene with the potatoes, everything from describing the potato steam like "Azriel's shadows" to Azriel not letting anyone eat before she sits down - I think it's a big hint that Elain & Azriel also share some kind of bond. I think Azriel, at least, is more aware of the traditions and religion so he has an idea of what he's feeling. It's what leads him to ask the question "What if the cauldron was wrong?" (And then later discover it was, in fact, wrong)
I have a theory that Azriel at least suspects there's a bond between them. Maybe that's why he took the potato dish out of her hands, so she couldn't serve him. He didn't want to give her another "You're my mate" PTSD. Or he might not realize WHAT it is yet, be he can feel it. He knows there is something there between them.
It's why he questions the cauldron (nobody is questioning their religion over 'just lust'). It's why Mor sees it too. It's why Azriel can smell the Elucien bond and it makes him sick. It's why he went sicko mode when he realized she had been taken by the Cauldron. It's why Elain knows him so well, even though we only see a handful of their interactions on the page. It's why their BC encounter was so hot and full of UST. Like they are down bad for each other and it is CLEAR.
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humblefryingpan · 2 days
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The "Amy likes spiders" poem in doki doki literature club (Natsuki's second poem) just makes me think of being closeted with internalized homophobia and I think it works really well for her
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There's the poem if you haven't seen it!
(This is just me analyzing the poem and it's probably my longest post yet. I've been overanalyzing all the poems but this is the only one I've typed out atm lol)
It specifically makes me think of four things - Yuri liking different things and her disliking her for it, Natsuki being so far in the closet that she'll take any excuse to avoid the pretty girl™, Natsuki's self projection onto "Amy" and most importantly internalized homophobia, like I said earlier
It generally makes me think natsuri but I'll get to that later. So if we go from the internalized homophobia + closeted perspective (more like raised homophobic and doesn't know she's gay but ykwim), it reads as "a girl I know is a lesbian and Im meant to hate her for it. She's pretty and she makes me feel things but I can't be friends with her because she's a lesbian"
'The narrator' (Natsuki) heard a rumor that a girl, "Amy" (the lesbian), apparently likes 'spiders' (girls) and is repulsed. And that's why she isn't friends with her.
"Amy" sings the narrator's favorite love song, her voice is cute and it's making her heart pound. But she still likes 'spiders', so she can't be her friend.
She hurts her leg and "Amy" helped her get to the nurse. She tried to avoid touching her because her hands might be gross due to touching 'spiders', so she still can't be her friend.
"Amy" is very popular, but "she probably talks about spiders" (being gay). "What if her friends start to like spiders too?" (This entire verse rlly speaks for itself)
The next verse is shortest and even more repetitive than the rest of the poem (to emphasize her point) "it doesn't matter if she has other hobbies, it doesn't matter is she keeps it private, it doesn't matter if it doesn't hurt anyone" because to the narrator - she can't be "Amy's" friend, no matter how bad she wants to, because she's always going to be a 'spider lover' (lesbian) and she won't be able to ignore that.
And then the final nail to seal shut the door to the closet - "it's gross, she's gross, the world is better off without spider lovers. And I'm gonna tell everyone" because she needs everyone to know she hates 'spider lovers' to make sure no one knows she is also one. It's so gross because she was taught it was and now she can't stop thinking it's gross, no matter how nice/pretty/kind "Amy" is.
Onto the natsuri part so if you don't like that ship feel free to skip the rest of this (if you're still here lol)
Yuri and Natsuki like such different things (creepy and complex vs cute and simple) and they reach the point where they've argued so much that Natsuki doesn't want to admit she doesn't dislike Yuri. Even if she likes her poems, she'd never tell her because she feels like she can't at this point.
Natsuki couldn't see past their differences for a while, when she finally does, she's too embarrassed to apologize and too uncomfortable to befriend her without apologizing.
Nearly every verse of the poem will talk about how great the girl is. How she has a cute voice, she helped her, she has lots of friends, she makes her heart pound. But every verse she will still come back to "but she likes spiders. That's why I'm not friends with her". It feels like her gradually warming up to Yuri but still reminding herself that she can't be her friend, they're too different, Yuri likes creepy things (Yuri probably does like spiders so that's a bit more literal but it's also that spiders seem to symbolise everything she likes that Natsuki doesn't) and she couldn't be friends with someone so different.
And lastly, Natsuki's self projection (this is what the meaning is said to be in-game), meaning "Amy" is Natsuki herself. Natsuki likes manga and her friends won't believe it counts as literature. Her manga is the spider in this interpretation, she doesn't want people to judge her based on what she likes. She's had to be so defensive about what she likes, she may even judge herself for liking it at this point. She doesn't want people to judge people by their interests.
I keep seeing people say that Amy is a real person but that's one of the only interpretations that makes no sense to me. Because Natsuki may be a bit judgemental but even she wouldn't make an entire poem about disliking her classmate's love of spiders. She said herself that anyone that agrees with the narrator in the poem is a bad person. It's far more likely that "Amy" is a made up idea, she's barely even shown as a person. She's seemingly meant to be symbolic of Natsuki's flaws and insecurities, whatever you perceive those insecurities to be.
Portraying Amy as an actual person kinda cheapens the poem, at least in my opinion, because she was talking about how people should be given a chance no matter what (or who) they like and if Amy was a person it wouldn't make sense
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gimmeurmoneyagh · 14 hours
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hehe my twst panic oc 😼😼😼
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*i was too lazy to draw the other eye😭😭😭 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐋𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚
𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄: ❝Puh-leaze! As if I’d like losers like them!❞
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𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌: Pain (disney hercules)
𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎:
Class: 3-C
Dorm: Ignihyde
Birthday: June 18!!!
Age: 18
Height: 6,2
Dominant Hand: Right
Sexuality: Polyamorous and Queer
Favorite Subject: Ancient Curses
Hobby: attending comic convections, playing guitar or piano
Likes: Money, her friends, her boyfriend
Dislikes: Judgemental people, ppl being rude to her
Favorite Food: Baklava
Least Favorite Food: Meat Pie
Club: Pop Music Club!!!
Homeland: Fleur City
Special Skill: sniffing out rich ppl
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𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂:
𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓*
*broski so the name might sound a lil’ crazy its not!!
it just means if she touches someone she can just place her unique magic on them and they’ll be scared or worried or well panicked for no reason
That means theyll be skittish, won’t think clearly, and in a state of some kind of mental fog
Which Thana usually takes advantage of
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𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘:
A loud brash girl who will fight you if you try to disagree with her
Will fight you if you say anything about her friends
Smug, and will always hide her true emotions 
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𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄:
A tanned girl with some scars, and a snaggletooth smile
Sharp teeth
Very, very bright yellow eyes
Horns!!! Has a tail and wingswhich she hides,
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𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃:
When Thana was young there was one thing she knew for sure. Never bond with others.
Bonding meant telling others her thoughts and secrets. It would do her no good to befriend others.
It was shoved down her throat by relatives and family friends, and over time she started to believe it.
Until Idia and Melaina(twst pain oc!!!😜😜😝😝) came into her life.
She loved them and thought they loved her too!
Until the day he died. Thana disn’t think he actually belive her! It wasn’t her fault! It wasn’t her fault.
At least that’s what she told herself.
Idia was in shambles, he wouldn’t talk to them anymore and they weren’t allowed inside.
She knew he hated her, and she didn’t blame him either! She hated her for this too... Melaina tried to talk to her but Thana blocked her calls. Melaina didn’t deserve her.
Until eventually... they stopped coming.
Thana couldn’t believe it. Her friends left her! They left her. They left her! They were horrible she couldn’t believe them!
They all lost contact for years. And Thana was happy! For sure! Who needs those losers anyway!
Until that carriage came. A carriage to Night Raven College.
Fuck.
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𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒:
Loves researching mer-folk!!!
Will bite you!!
Scene girlie!!
Eats anything edible!! Big-back alert!!
May or may not blame herself for Ortho’s death!!
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Taglist!! @babyghoul138 @cheerleaderman @jewelulu @beneathsakurashade
@bunniehunn @the-rini-rush @skibidibabygirl @screamintoad
@teighveepao @skrimpyskimpy @cloudiepuffs @kuragebride
@4necdote @twtysevapr @blood-red-bumblebee
lemme know if u wanna be tagged or not!!!
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the thing is im usually allllll for putting eddie in the torture nexus, its actually my favorite favorite thing, but it hits so different when its chris. when its the person eddie has tried so hard for again and again and again. when its this thing he's poured his entire soul and life and being into for YEARS to try and Not Fail His Kid. when its now his kid being merciless in punishing him. now the same kid is ghosting him for this one mistake that also hurt eddie terribly.
and i get it isnt out of place for a teen to do something like this, bc their emotions are so big, but can someone CALL THAT OUT? can someone be like yeah hes taking this a bit far lets maybe put a stop to it??? but eddie's parents are just ignoring eddie and letting this Angry Teenager uproot his entire life and break his dads heart while eddie is powerless to do anything about it because he, once again, so desperately, wants just to be a good father. but he actually kind of isnt being one because he doesnt value himself enough to be like oh hey, wait, you're actually being unfair. we need to discuss this. he can't teach chris that running and being selfish and icing people out is Not Healthy because that would mean prioritizing his own hurt over this months-long temper tantrum christopher is having. and it would be great if this arc ended in a way that addresses THAT.
and if no one's gonna explain this to chris, i just need someone to explain it to eddie, i really desperately need someone to actually comfort EDDIE. i need someone to tell him, or at least acknowledge, that it wasn't completely his fault. that he tried to stop it before it affected chris. that he did the right thing but then got ambushed by kim. or even that the whole kim thing must have Hurt Him Too. like someone just hold him or talk to him or ANYTHING in a way that isn't wow you really hurt christopher huh :(
but i honestly can't tell where they're going with it bc its been one episode. i just know i, like christopher and eddie, am having Big Feelings and DONT KNOW HOW TO PROCESS THEM.
there's so much potential and im tentatively excited but also hahahahasf i would like this particular torture nexus to end immediately. this is a kind of emotional horror that might actually give me heart damage. christopher diaz get over yourself and go home.
im really hoping all this leads to a VERY heartwarming reunion because if it does not then i have beef with a fictional thirteen year old im so serious. (also the diaz parents but i've had beef with them so.)
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