#like this show sees my absolute lack of a father figure and is like 'yeah.. yeah i think we're going to exploit that'

[fishtank32]

Lmk doodle page that turned into a dragonfruit doodle page. I love them sm.

[bakugoushotwife]

Daddy's Home For Good

a/n: this was requested by one of my lovely followers privately, and I absolutely love the idea of whipped daddy gojo just insanely in love with his wife and the idea of being a dad soon! so enjoyyyy. this is a part two but can be read as a stand alone.

part one : daddy’s home

pairings: satoru gojo x fem!reader

cw: lactation kink, pregnancy, descriptions of pregnant body, reader was curvier to begin with, fingering, nipple play, brief childbirth i guess? unedited as always.

wc: 3.3k

It blew him away, really. How quickly the urge to be a father came on, how good it felt to act on these needs with you, and how successful his attempts turned out to be. When you came to him with all those positive pregnancy tests, he didn’t think life could get any better. This truly was the highlight of his life, and anyone that knew the man that existed pre-you would absolutely cackle at the sight. Satoru Gojo, buying baby clothes and bibs and strollers to take his son around town in, to show off the latest member of the Gojo family tree. 

It was almost ridiculous. Every time, on his way home from grueling missions or a packed day of training those kids he loved so much, your husband came home with some sort of accessory or necessity for the baby boy you were growing for him. He always had that signature satisfied grin on his face, his eyes wide with pride and love. He just can’t wait to see your reaction to these onesies, he knows the colors go perfectly with the nursery scheme. He picked out the paint for the room as meticulously as he picked out these onesies—with all of his love and care in mind. He looked around to see the empty living room, figuring you were either in your shared room resting, or doing some more nesting in the baby’s room. He sighs happily, slipping out of his shoes and putting his keys down, that shit-eating grin still adorning his features as he waits for you.

You—his most precious wife, glowing and beautiful with that bump of yours. He just can’t help himself, Satoru has always lacked impulse control and the way you waddle out from the bedroom to greet him makes his chest warm with emotion and his dick pulse with another one. You were eight–almost nine– months along, his son inside you causing your breasts to grow two cup sizes, though they were already massive. Your hips had widened even more, your hair and skin seemed to shine brighter. You were mesmerizing, the perfect image of a mother. You grin happily, resting your hand on your growing stomach while you make your way over to him. You were the reason he got to be this happy, and he would pamper you in every way because of it. The next Gojo boy could arrive any day now, and he could barely wait.

“My beautiful woman!” He cheers upon your approach, holding up the shopping bags filled to the brim with clothes and pacifier clips and little shoes and anything else you can think of when it comes to a baby’s needs. His smile spreads wider when he sees your forced surprise. You were impossibly sexy like this, stroking your belly and leaning against the couch as he pulled out the dinosaur onesie he was most proud of. He loves the soft look in your eye as you look at him, the adoration you have can only mirror the kind he holds for you. 

“Look at all this, Daddy spoils us.” You giggle, shaking your head as you examine all the clothes and toys your over excited husband brought home. You couldn’t wait to give birth at this point either. You thought you looked horrendous, sweaty and swollen at all hours of the day. You can’t get any sleep because of your size, and no clothes were comfortable. You loved being pregnant but…you also loathed it once you got this big. “Haru is so lucky to be your son, yeah?” 

Satoru beams at this, nodding his agreement. “Oh but of course, nothing but the best for my loves.” 

 You can’t help but admire him this way. He’s so in love with you and the prospect of a family, he can’t stop himself from bringing home an obnoxious amount of gifts for you and baby both. This far into the pregnancy, as the days draw closer to Haru being on this side of the world with you, your anxiety increases as well. It was such a relief to have a husband like Satoru by your side. He took care of everything, leaving you to rest and take it easy, reading your books and preening about as you wish. It seems he had the inevitable nesting instincts, keeping the house clean and making all the meals for the two of you. 

He would always say he had to keep you healthy since Haru was sucking out all your nutrients. He had surprised you honestly, doing all this research to keep you comfortable. Half the gifts he brought home early on were suited for you, the highest end maternity clothes and body pillows—though he preferred you use him when he was home. He made sure the cleaning products he used were all non-toxic and safe for you to breathe, once again completely surprising you during the earlier months of your pregnancy. He even brought his students in to meal prep freezer food for the recovery, that way Satoru never had to leave your side and could give all of his attention to you and your newborn son. He was so beautifully excited to be a father, and you were so content to be the one giving him children. As long as he kept this treatment up, you’d continue to pump out Gojo’s until he wanted to stop. 

Which didn’t seem to be on his mind at all. Seeing you like this right now, swollen and fatigued from all your hard work, he wanted this all the time. It was such a dominant and possessive and honestly out-dated thing to desire so deeply, to keep you pregnant and at home caring for all the other babies all day long, but fuck this would never get old. Your giggles as you pull out yet another adorable little outfit for your son, the sweet way you bat your lashes up at him to say thank you, the darkening patches spreading across the cloth of your t-shirt…it all made his body break out in a sweat, a need to please you growing in his gut. 

You hear his shaky breath, looking up at him to see his chlorine colored eyes darkening steadily, and his hand covering his crotch. 

“Sato? What’s wrong?” You ask, your sweet voice sending shivers down his spine and making him blush in embarrassment at the same time. You were much too big to try to accommodate his sexual desires, much less, it’s wrong that he’s so turned on by you leaking breast milk in front of him. 

He shakes his head, giving you a nervous chuckle and waving off your concern. “Oh, nothing, wifey. Don’t worry.” His eyes flicker over your form, stuttering around your chest before they meet your worried ones. 

You notice, of course you would notice. He knows you’ll think he’s a pervert for sure now, even though he most definitely was and you most definitely already knew that about your husband after the years of marriage and dating. You gasp once you see the dark wet stains in your top. 

“Shit–I’m sorry, that’s been happening here recently—I think it’s a good thing but uh, I’ll go get changed, I’m sorry—”

He grabs your wrist before you can spin around and head back to the bedroom. His brow is furrowed, and his other hand comes to hold your chin. He seems even more upset than before. 

“Don’t ever apologize to me…that’s what’s gonna feed our son, I never wanna hear that again.” He mumbles, eyes darkening again as they fixate on the damp markings. His hand lets your wrist go, coming up to brush his thumb across the fabric. It gives you a chill, your nipples have always been far too sensitive to his touch, now more than ever. You breathe in sharply at the feeling, and he bites down on his lower lip. 

He, as always, is far too sensitive to you as a whole, now more than ever. Your little gasp encourages him to keep going, maybe the idea wasn’t so horrible after all. He brushes his thumb against your hardened nipple now, watching your face closely. The moment is so quiet and delicate, he doesn’t know if he should speak, to excuse or explain himself for this. You look down at his touch and then back up at him, and his pupils expand. He likes it, he wants to see more of your leaking tits, you realize. 

“Ohhhh…” You grin as you understand his earlier strange behavior. “So Daddy likes Mama’s leaky boobs, huh?” You tease, a cute little smirk displayed on your face. God, sometimes you were too much for him. He was trying to stifle these urges, to respect the mother of his unborn child more than this—but you’re making it impossible. His breathing gets a little shakier with your taunts, and he ashamedly nods his head yes. 

“Don’t be shy, Satoru.” You purr his name like always, pushing his big hand harder against your chest. “It’s cute…you love everything about makin’ me a mother.” You coo, your other hand reaching for his cheek now. He leans his face into your hold, tremendously vulnerable now that you’ve caught him. Though, you don’t seem disgusted by him, so maybe there’s hope. Especially at your last sentence, it seems you understand him in a way he didn’t even quite get. Why would he be craving the taste of your milk right now, the sight of your pretty chest dripping with the nutrients his son would soon need? Because he caused all of it? Yeah, he understands now. His cloudy blue eyes finally meet yours again, and he nods. 

“Mhm, can’t help it, angel. You just look so hot like this, and I just wanna make you feel good..” He says, tunnel visioning back to your chest. He slips his hand out of your grip, opting to slide them under your shirt instead. You nod slowly, your breath catching in your throat when his warm palms cup your heavy tits. It’s so sensitive, they feel so weighty and full, you can’t help but moan a little bit as he massages them. He gently pushes you back into the couch, helping you get comfortable on the broad cushions. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fuck you the right way, but that was the least of his worries right now. He wouldn’t be able to carry on unless he saw you, unless he tasted the food that would help his son grow big and strong like him. 

You’re blissed out immediately, just from the relief of his touch. He supports your heavy tits in his hands, softly stroking over your wet nipples with his thumbs. His cock jumps with your every moan. He thinks its hot, the way you move your hips still, wishing he could fuck into you and do this at the same time. It makes him smile, how needy you became within seconds, and he wonders if you had thought about this too. He regretfully lets go of your chest, supporting them carefully until they rested against you. He didn’t want to cause any pain, no no. His only job was to bring relief and pleasure. 

He didn’t even understand how good it felt to be fondled and worshiped like this. He kneels between your legs on the floor, looking over your gorgeous pregnant body leaning perfectly against the couch. He pushes your shirt up–one that actually belonged to him–but god it worked perfectly on you now. The shirt rests above your engorged breasts, revealing your fully naked form to him. He shivers. He knows with your size as of late, it’s hard enough to put on the t-shirt. Pregnancy was such a gift. Here you are, your belly huge and perfect, the veins on your chest more pronounced, your nipples more pink than usual and dripping with liquid. He moans aloud, just from the sight of you. 

You giggle at the sound, heat licking up your body. As ugly as you thought you looked these days, your husband never thought you looked better. You reach around blindly for him, unable to see him from the way you were leaning combined with the massive bump in between you two. He hums, leaning up a bit so you could grab a gentle fistful of his hair. When he leans up enough to make eye contact, you nearly laugh again. He’s under a spell, his eyes frenzied with desire. He looks at your chest again, slick and sheeny and your nipples just aching for some relief. 

“You want me to suck on you, Mama?” He asks with a smirk, his hands rubbing circles into your stomach as he eagerly awaits your response. 

“Please Daddy, miss your mouth so much, everywhere.” You huff, tugging on his hair to pull him closer to your needy breasts. He won’t make you beg. That’s the least he could do for his gorgeous baby mama. He hums, his tongue parting his lips and his eyes focused on yours. He leans in and licks the wetness around your nipples, groaning at the sweet taste of your milk. His large hand gently massages the fullness of your neglected breast, his tongue flicking over your pebbled bud for more of your essence. You moan and whimper, wiggling around helplessly. He was amazed by your sensitivity, your back arching off the couch when he wraps his lips around your nipple. 

He moans, your milk falling in drops in his mouth. His eyes flutter shut, your moans were impossibly sexy and his cock was starting to hurt. He knew he couldn’t use you like that, so he just ruts against the bottom of the couch, suckling on your tits like he was the one who needed the nutrients. 

It felt amazing, the wet and warm relief of his mouth sucking out some of the pressure was too much, you could feel your pussy leaking your normal fluids all over the couch cover. “Oh Daddy, you’re makin’ me feel s’much better~” 

He nods, swallowing everything he’d collected thus far to swap to your neglected one. He sees you reach for your pussy, though with the size of your stomach, you can’t reach. He chuckles softly, taking it as a sign of your permission before he swats your hand away and replaces it with his own fingers. He circles your clit, making you gasp and part your legs even more for him. His mouth closes around your unused bud, and your whines are like a symphony. He knows you’re going to cum soon, and from the way he ruts against the couch…he will too.

You’ve done your research, you know that orgasms and nipple stimulation can lead to your water breaking but with everything else you had tried to induce your labor lately, you didn’t think this one would work. You tried the exercise ball, you ate dates, you even tried eating spicy foods but all for naught—your son seemed to be as stubborn as his father. 

So when you’re screaming and cumming hard just from Satoru suckling your chest and his minimal pressure to your clit, the extra rush of water is hardly noticed. Innocently, Satoru thinks maybe you squirted from such a naughty act. He’s brainless for the moment anyway, his vision blackened as he busts in his pants, all from the pleasure he brought to you and getting to indulge in one of his fantasies. He’s panting, laughing at himself for cumming untouched. He stands and kisses your forehead, letting you get your breath back as he steps off into your bedroom to change and bring you a towel. 

  “I hope that made you feel good, angel, you’re out here embarrassing me.” He chuckles, crouching to wipe you up. 

You go to respond, giggling, when the sharp pain cuts you off. It felt like a period cramp, but much more intense. You had had these all day, convincing yourself it was another Braxton-Hicks instance, but you knew. In your heart of hearts, it was time. 

“Satoru–”

“What’s that look for babe? You look like you’ve seen a ghost–”

“Haru–he’s coming.” You blurt out, eyes wide and face paling several shades. He does the same, hands flying to his hair in shock. 

“Right now? Oh my god—” He’s running around immediately, calling Megumi to come watch the cats and calling Shoko to meet you at the hospital and sprinting to the nursery for the hospital bag before he’s back with clothes for you, dressing you with shaky hands. “It’s really time!” 

You nod, checking the bag while he puts your pants on, sliding your feet into sandals. “It’s really time. Oh my god, Sato..our baby is coming!” You squeal in between bouts of contractions. 

He gives you a broad smile, gently helping you to your feet. He slings the hospital bag on his shoulder, the plan for Haru’s arrival having been in place for weeks. He’s a mess of nerves as he tucks you into the car, making sure for the fifteen-hundredth time that the car seat was installed correctly before he finally gets in the driver's side. He keeps a protective hand over your stomach the whole time, frowning in sympathy every time you endure a contraction. 

Part of these nerves are his excitement, his relief that his strange inclination ended up inducing your labor, and his overwhelming desire to meet his son. “Our baby is coming.” He echoes, a whisper as the hospital comes into view. 

8 hours later, little Haru Gojo makes his first appearance into the world. He’s beautiful, and strong, and certainly makes his presence known with his loud cries and haughty grip on his father’s thumb once he’s been cleaned up and given back. 

Satoru is in awe. His son, this tiny little bundle of blankets laying in his arms, the creation of him and the woman he loves so dearly. Eyes of the same shade of blue look up at him, smiling. The boy coos loudly too, babbling and reaching for his father’s face. Satoru sits next to you on your bed, utterly in love. “He’s perfect. Thank you, my angel.” He says, carefully leaning over to kiss your temple. 

You smile softly, exhausted but thrilled at the same time. You love the tamed look in your husband’s eyes, a new kind of softness invented specifically for his child. He cuddles the boy close, holding you in his other arm. His family, just the start. His heart is so full, and once again he’s surprised that he could feel so intensely. He watches you rest against him, your eyes tired and full of love for your son—the Gojo family. 

“Thank you. You gave him to me.” You remind, reaching your hand out to smooth the white peach fuzz sprouting on Haru’s head. He scoffs at you, and the baby starts to writhe towards his mother. 

“Oh gag, that’s the easiest job in the world. You’ve gone through so much just to give me this little boy, hush and let me worship the ground you walk on, please.” He insists, letting his fingers trace the tiny nose and lips of his little son. He smiles at Haru's puckers and squirms, knowing he was probably hungry. He gently places him in your arms, his strong chest helping you sit upright. He smiles, watching the magic that is you feeding his child. “Looks like I’ve got some competition..” 

You slap his shoulder and roll your eyes, giggling at the first of many dad jokes that Satoru had no doubt researched as well. He just sighs lovingly, wrapping his arms around you and supporting all your weight, keen to wait on you hand and foot until you are fully recovered—and even then. He’s beyond grateful for this life. Maybe all the pain and heartache was worth it. He gets to call himself a husband and now a father, a future he had never imagined for himself. He owes it all to you, the woman who quite literally birthed his dreams. 

“I’ve got more where that comes from so…stay on your toes, Mama.”

[tizeline]

Bro that angst potential ur separated au is keeping me up at night. You've said since Mikey would be a powerhouse due to training at such an early age, would it be safe to assume that Leo & raph are too? They've been mastering their ninpo 4 years? And if yes then dam they must be tanks. Must be a force to be reckoned with the bros and drax being all chaotic. Did they start to train so early bcuz drax only saw them as soldiers n stuff? Drax sure must've softened over the years huh guess he couldn't handle the cute lil menaces lol. Is Donnie aware of his own ninpo yet? I'm imagining him going up against the others with all his cool tech and then they whip out this anime magic ass superpower out of nowhere. Like meeting others like u after years of thinking u were the only one must be at least baffling right, now it turns out magic is real too. And he's gonna have it too(Not to mention the bro bomb waiting to drop on his head). Would his insecurities rise after witnessing all that?

Sorry I just absolutely LOVE ur au friend, i have a ton of questions but ill hold it 4 ltr. I'm really excited to see where you take it :)) -🌾

Oh man, Anon, glad to see you so excited haha!

Just a heads up, I'm still figuring out the story of the AU, so I don't know all the specifics yet, but here are some of my thoughts. And also, this became a bit of a ramble, that's what you get when you send long asks lol /lh

The way I'm thinking how Draxum is gonna be like in this AU is that he didn't view himself as the turtles' father initially, not really because he only viewed them as mere tools for him to use, he always saw them as people with induviduality. But rather, he hadn't really connected the dots that creating children + raising said children = parenthood, which led to Draxum like a year after mutating the turtles having the sudden realization one day of "OH SHIT AM I A DAD!?" and having a mini crisis because of that.

Anyway, while I don't think Draxum is the perfect dad in this AU by any means, he does genuinely care about his kids. (If Mikey managed to win Draxum over in canon after having spent a whole season fighting each other, there's no way he'd care about Mikey any less in a scenario where they've been on the same side since day one like they have in this AU.) He started training the turles from an early age and they are expected to help him with his Definitely Not Evil World Domination Plan, but they are still allowed free time and hobbies and such. And aside from some "ugh I don't wanna train right now I wanna play vidya gaemes" occasionally, the turtles never really opposed the idea of them becoming Draxums super soldiers. Kids are really easily influenced and if your parent keeps telling you that you are the heroes who are gonna save the world from evil, chances are you're gonna latch on to that narrative without question. But after meeting Donnie and April, who knows, it might be what finally starts making the other turtles question if their cause really is as just as they think :) That being said, I still have to figure out how Draxum would react exactly to his sons starting to oppose his world view.

Then their abilities! I also have to do more reasearch into exactly how the magic system works in RoTMNT cuz uhhh it's a bit unclear sometimes. Anyway, ninpo is specifically the magic used by the Hamato clan, and considering Raph, Leo and Mikey weren't raised as Hamato I don't think they would have access to that specific type of magic (though I still think they'd be be able to possibly unlock it later down the line) They would still have access to yokai magic, and of course the mystic weapons that they stole in the show would just have been given to them in AU by Draxum. And oh yeah, the brothers are powerful. To be fair, Donnie was able to keep up with Draxum pretty well in the pilot episode, so he wouldn't be COMPLETELY outmatched by his brothers. His tech is powerful enough that he'd be able to put up a decent fight even if he lacks mystic powers himself but..... three against one? Yeah, Donnie isn't winning any time soon. The biggest advantage he'd have would honestly be that his brothers wouldn't really WANT to fight him cuz they'd be all like "Long Lost Brother™??? 😭😭😭 Please come home Long Lost Brother™ we love you!!! 😭😭😭"

And I think Splinter would have kept both of their origins secret initially like he did in the show, so Donnie would't have any ninpo either, but I also think Donnie would still learn about the whole Lou Jitsu and Genetically Modified Super Soldier thing earlier than in canon. And god, yeah, learning about all of that would definietly be A Lot, which is why I still need time to figure out Donnie's exact reaction sorry Anon you're gonna have to be patient XD

[burst-of-iridescent]

Aang was indeed a bad father. It's way past time we stopped making excuses for him.

An all too common defense for Aang is the fact that he's a monk and is not well-versed in how parenting looks. Yeah! No shit! But do you know who is well-versed? Katara! They talk as if Aang is a single parent like Toph but he is not. Katara's been on Aang's side since the day they met, always stood up for him, always complimented him.

Is this really the thanks she gets? Are they really that disinterested in explaining Katara's side of the story? As if her not getting a statue wasn't insulting enough.

Another major flaw in this defense is that Aang is not just a monk. He's the avatar. This means, part of mastering all elements also means embodying all of the ideologies based on said elements. That includes elements/ideologies completely opposite of his own. His daughter's crack about Aang "cutting and running when things get tough" shows that he's learned absolutely nothing.

We never truly see him master all the elements, he just gets them and, more or less, calls it a day. I'm even beginning to doubt that he's truly mastered his default airbending and he just got his tattoos prematurely because the monks were impressed with his scooter invention.

Zuko got the privilege of understanding the ideologies of other nations, allowing him to grow, and unlearn any toxic masculinity lessons through them, and would blow a gasket if he ever saw a kid get mistreated by a parent in any way. Is it really any wonder why Zuko is the more popular character and the most requested choice for Katara, in comparison to Aang?

using the "but he was a monk!" argument to excuse aang's bad parenting is fucking baffling to me. even leaving aside that aang did have a father figure (or are we collectively ignoring monk gyatso?), i don't think you need to witness fatherhood in action to understand that showing preferential treatment to one of your children is a messed up thing to do. that seems like the kind of thing that should be common sense, especially when you're best friends with the guy who's walking proof of what happens when you play favourites with your kids.

truthfully, i also don't fully agree with katara being able to compensate for aang's supposed lack of knowledge. while i do believe katara was a good mother, and i don't think it was her responsibility to teach her own husband how to be a good parent, i have my doubts about how much, if ever, katara called aang out on his behaviour towards bumi and kya. if their relationship in atla was any indication, i suspect katara very much turned a blind eye (or at most tried to gently suggest that aang pay more attention to bumi and kya) to aang's flaws in this area, as she (unfortunately) does in most others. that's one of the reasons i was never able to get onboard with kat.aang, because katara is the only one of the gaang who is never able to meaningfully challenge aang, even when he desperately needs it. (the only time i recall her trying to push him to do something he doesn't want is in sozin's comet when the fate of the literal world depended upon it. not a good omen, methinks.)

the katara we knew in atla might not have idly sat by while aang favored his airbending child over the others, but the seeds for who she turns out to be in lok are already planted. it's not a stretch to see how katara's blind faith in aang, and her unwillingness to confront his flaws, could have easily led her down the path to the woman who would fail to stop her husband from neglecting two of their children.

it's no surprise that aang in lok is repeating all the same mistakes he did in atla, because his character arc came to a screeching halt at the start of book 3 and was never picked back up again. how are we meant to believe that aang ever became the avatar (yknow, the embodiment of all four nations in one) when he was still, at the very end of the show, prioritizing the values of one nation over the others?

truly the shocker of the century that people might prefer katara to be with a character who had a believable arc with well-written development and a satisfying conclusion, instead of the narrative equivalent of a brick wall.

[bittrlys]

I don't hate the main cast of tdp but dam do I think the series has a lot of wasted potential for them.

Yeah this is gonna be a rant and a long one at that so sorry and a warning here.

Rayla: there was so much potential rayla that all gets diminished in the series in my opinion at least. For example rayla is pretty discriminatory towards humans but that's not addressed or brought into light as much as it is when its Callum being discriminatory towards elves. I wanted to know more about raylas moonshadow culture and how that heavily influenced her actions in leaving Callum for two years, I wanted to see what she was doing in those two years, why did she come back if she didnt find viren, what are her views on her being ghosted and having her only living father figure ghost her as well, what are her views on runaan or her anger towards her parent or her fears in having to deal with what might happen to Callum and his possessions or her fears of water (I absolutely hate how that was fully conquered off screen) or how she can be hypocritical at times but the narrative doesn't acknowledge it properly or ever. (I hate the fandoms perception of morally upstanding rayla and the prescription that rayllum is a healthy ship when it isn't and it lacks communication so badly it makes me want to cry)

Callum: he also had so much potential like I hate how we don't see much of callum's views on being an orphan, him maybe getting jealous at rayla for having parental figures that are alive, or his feelings towards runnan (they're touched in a comic but not the show and I hate that even more), or how he wants to keep everyone he cares about close to him and fears losing them, or how much of an over thinker Callum truly is, or how he could of had a proper arc with aaravos where he sees how humans were mistreated during history, or him interacting with ezran a lot more or how Callum has an interesting amount of Parallels with characters he kind of hates like runaan, finnegran and viren+Claudia. Sure Callum gets a lot more justice done within the narrative but the bar is in hell for that (also your last ask post explained perfectly well why I hated how the show handled rayla dismissing callum's worries)

I don't know a lot of callum's and rayla's arc very much center eachother to the point that there is no substance outside of what they both serve to rayllum .

Soren: probably handled really well but the way his arc was done so dirty in season 4 made me cringe like why put him in PJ's and make him a joke for such important character events?!?! I wanted to see a proper Soren reaction to Viren being alive, I wanted to see guilt eat him away at the state Claudia is in, I wanted to see him have conflicted feelings when it came to Viren and Claudia how he rejects them but also just wants a family or wants them back, I wanted to see the true breakdown of sorens character and how he uses humour as a way to cope or try to soften situations. I wanted soren to maybe play a role in Claudia's redemption help reach out for her, I wanted someone to see Soren and the pain he is in and offer comfort. (I do think that Soren was done the koat justice out of all the main hero cast this season)

Ezran: i wanted to see a lot with ezran like how he felt towards zubeia sending assassins to kill him and king Harrow, or how he feels towards runnan (yeah it's touched upon but not in the main show) or how he struggles to take on royal duties and tries to get as much freedom as possible but fails, or how he is trying to choose wisdom and peace above all but a pacifist can't always successfully avoid conflict and must pick up a weapon at times, or how he felt about rayla leaving or Callum throwing himself into studies and changing after such an event or how he handles being an orphan. Also does ezran ever search who the orphan queen is? Are they similar? Or does ezran get blinded by hate and labels it justice? How is his relationship with Callum? It seems like ezran has become an isolated character stuck in a role that isn't built for him and being strapped of any innocence and naivety at a young age. Finally, what is ezrans connections to animals and we should of gotten a deeper dive on how that effects him or how he uses it.

Zym should talk more the dragon is a plot device and he has no arc or depth going for him

Yes, my feelings on the main heroes of the show are they're fine on paper but the execution (namely, how little consequences they face and how stark it is in contrast to the suffering of the villains who are allegedly taking 'easy shortcuts') leaves me wanting.

Something you touched on which I also dislike is important information or character beats being stored in supplementary material. If I don't want to drop a hundred plus on books I'm missing out on things that matter? Okay! My city's library doesn't stock all of them. Even through questionable means they're not all available. Yet if you never read, say, the book one novelization, you would miss out on the damning humans v. unicorns lore, and you're left frustrated at how the show discusses the topic of human suffering and denial of magic. This is why, while aware of this side lore, I prefer to keep my analysis centred on the show's presented narrative ... and then you're left going, "Why the hell is Rayla doing that?" for example.

Rayla feels frustratingly lacking in an internal life. As you said, a lot of her feelings on things are just not covered. I don't pay attention to the fandom at large (I see their Viren opinions and start composing manifestos in my head) but it's tough with female characters. They're often either idealized or vilified, and either way there's little care for their complexities. Even real fans of the character, in response to typical sexist fandom backlash, tend to be quite defensive. I've been there, I know the feeling, but. I wish there were more honest conversations about Rayla's issues and the way she treats Callum.

Callum really should have had more to do with Aaravos, I agree. He could have learned a lot and been taken to interesting places. At least when it comes to Callum, he at least has his pursuit of magic as a strong thread throughout the show and its his personal journey that has nothing to do with anyone else. It's given him one of the most notable character journeys on the hero side of things. (He's also allowed to actually suffer a bit.) Still, the "Rayla is his guiding star" thing is emblematic to the way he -- and Rayla -- are both burdened by their relationship. I'm really not an anti-ship grouch and indeed I enjoy a good Romeo and Juliet ship but maybe the emphasis needs to be on "good."

Maybe if they'd been written as an intended couple from the start of the show there would have been more thought to how their stories would have to eventually meld while retaining their characters. There's an interesting thing this season to how Rayla (who is alone in the world post-banishment) is scared of ending up like that ship's captain and not choosing love versus Callum realizing he should be less motivated by fear and instead by love and how they're almost conflicting motivations to arrive at the same conclusion (prioritizing love.) Yet the specific framing doesn't exactly work for me.

I hope now that they're together the relationship drama part of their stories is going to be over, at least for a good long while. They can start communicating better, be a cool battle couple, and focus on their own stories while supporting each other.

Soren did get the best stuff this season, I agree, and as ever, it's because Viren and Claudia carry the dramatic weight of the series so being closer to them increases the quality of a character's story. Hah. But seriously, I really disliked how much of a joke Soren has felt like and how disconnected he feels from the heroes. He's felt like a prop so letting him have real feelings again that take priority in the story is really nice.

Ezran ... yeah. Like Rayla, I feel they aren't so interested in his internal world. "Being king is hard" or "being king is noble" is so 101. It's like there has got to be more to this kid than that and espousing various morality speeches. That he's single-minded and hardheaded and intent on quietly suffering are not uninteresting traits, but I don't know, maybe he feels so flat because as you said he's very isolated. He lacks a peer to confide in. His brother's always off doing his own thing and Bait and Zym are just pets, and I don't think he'd want to put too much on his adult advisors because he's so determined to do things by himself. Possibly giving Ezran a friend that he can both communicate himself to and have fun with would help inject some life into his character. If he's not very curious about the world around him, fine, but what if his friend was? What if his friend challenged him? I think Aanya could be a decent choice for this but she has her own country to run, so.

"STOP BARKING, ZYM" should be on T-shirt. At this point it feels like they don't want us to get too attached to him as a character because Aaravos is going to ritually sacrifice him. Which would be funny!

Thank you for the ask! ♥ (I got really excited at how you colour-coded their names haha it's so cute.) You brought up a lot of points I have thought about myself. I'm going to go into more of what I want from the character's stories eventually, but reading through your message a unifying theme for me is just "we need more insight into their feelings." And unfortunately a lot of the feelings I most want explored may not reflect well on Xadia (Rayla's banishment, Callum with the history of humanity, Ezran with Thunder/Zubeia/Runaan) so they probably won't ever get into that stuff. Alas!

[halfetirosie]

✨ 😊 This event is healing me from the aftermath of the last event 😊 ✨

(Exercise 04 - 06 React-os!)

1) Ohhhh shit, that's really impressive, Olivine!!! 🤯🤯🤯

This dude is over here investing new spells!!! I don't know what the standards are for intellect amongst mages in that world, but isn't that literal GENIUS behavior????

Be proud of yourself, Olivine!!! You're smart as fuck!!!

2) Awwww!!! (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ◡ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝)

Look at that soft smile!!!! ♡♡♡♡♡

Damn, Rei is so pretty....

And it's always nice to see Rei looking more relaxed. The bond between him and Garu is part of it, but as a whole, his character development is helping him to loosen up with everyone and express affection. We love to see it!

3) Oh dear...

Er, is it really a good idea to let Morv be the commentator???

Are they really certain he'll be able to focus on the competition and not the competitors (you know what I mean)?

(ᵕ—ᴗ—)

4) ♡ QUINCY!!! ♡

I don't think I've commented on it yet, but that hair style is very cute on him!!! I'm a big fan of the hair-half-up style in general---it suits literally everyone!!!

Come to think of it, I wonder if 2/3 of my top 3 favorite characters ended as my favorite because of-

-PFFFT!!!🤣🤣🤣🤣

WHAT IN THE NAME OF FANSERVICE?!?!?!

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

TALK ABOUT A LACK OF SUBTLETY!!!

My GOD, I was NOT expecting the sudden zoom-in on the bulge!!! (I made a very real, audible screech of laughter!!!)

This game is going to kill me!!!

5) ♡ GARU!!! ♡

This intro is definitely on-point---a lot of people gush over our lovable wolfboy's booty, but personally? THOSE LEGS THO. I agree with Karu---I like their powerful (muscular) legs the best!!! :D

Also, that popsicle looks good. Watermelon, I assume? I could really go for a-

-PFFFT!!! THEY GOT ME AGAIN!!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

I'm getting flashbacks to the original max-damage Unfulfilled Dream Rei, where Father made an attempt to cover Rei's bare chest! 🤣

More seriously---it's very sweet of Aster to cover up Garu here. We love a Protective King!

6) PFFFT!!! GOD DAMMIT, DEVS!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

They're not even going to bother focusing on his face first??? I was wrong---THIS has got to be the least subtlety ever perceived!!! My poor Cringefail Doritoman

♡ Dante!!! ♡

(Thank goodness he doesn't seem to know that the camera focused on his bulge before even showing his face... NO ONE TELL HIM.)

/// Flustered Dante!!!! ///

Fuck, he's so adorable!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

7) Eiden, you absolute psycho!!! You wanted to make them even longer???

Please. PLEASE. PLEASSSSEEE tell me what the full titles were going to be!!!

Please, they're probably so ridiculously cringe!!! PLEEAAASSSEEE!!!!

8) *slowly shakes my head, chuckling fondly*

Dante, stop trying to apply logic to a fantasy world. You will not win. 😇

(Also, I suspect he might be jealous that his animal friend doesn't have his own custom-made accessories 😈)

9) OH MY GODDDD!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

He doesn't even know what the surfboard is, let alone how to use it!!!!🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

I can't what to see him get overly prideful when he finally figures it out! OR EVEN BETTER---if he gets embarrassed over it!!!!

This event is going to tease Dante so much, I can feel it!! AND I AM SO EXCITED FOR IT!!!!

CRINGEFAIL DORITOMAN, MY BELOVED!!!!

(≧∇≦) ♡♡♡♡♡♡

10) Not gonna lie, I feel for the devs trick and believed Dante was encouraging Eiden at first. 😅 (I mean, Dante has been getting progressively more corny and sweet to Eiden.)

But, it's almost better for it to be Sooley instead---

After all, we get to see more Sooley!!!!! HELL YEAH!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

🐾 Cat Dad Dante 🐾 fawning proudly over his animal friend is always a delight to see!

And not just because of the cute animal---it allows us to see the softer side of Dante, which he rarely shows to anyone.

(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

11) ?! Oh???

♡ Eiden!!! ♡

Oh snap, I thought they were done introducing competitors! I assumed Eiden was going to be some sort of referee! But he's a more-confusing-and-mysterious competitor!

PFFFT!!!! 😂 GET DUNKED ON, EIDEN!!!! 😈

I mean, to be fair to the crowd, sweetie; you're standing right next to three of the most beefy men in Klein... No offense, but even I'm worried whether you'll be able to keep up with them... 😅

I'm having such a good time, ya'll!!!

☀️ End of report! ☀️

[antiv3nom]

Tell me something about Sin that you've been dying to type a bunch of paragraphs about!!

THANKS FOR THE ASK SOL !!!!!!!!

okay so a joke i frequenly make about sin but have genuine feelings about is that, despite being raised by sol "what are feelings?" badguy, sin ended up being SO emotionally intelligent. like sol would not have ever had any sort of conversations regarding fuckin empathy or the like with sin, he was too busy TYING THE KID TO A TREE when he was busy, yk? (dont have enough time to dig into all of my feelings on sin's upbringing lmao, i could write a whole different essay about that)

ANYWAYS! yeah. sin has a lot of issues in overture, and he feels...like he's full of a lot of rage and resentment over a lot of things. i can't entirely speak on everything as i still have yet to watch a playthrough of the entirety of overture (i know what happens! i just havent seen all of the nitty-gritty interactions with him and others) but i know that he's got a lot more rage in him then he does in xrd. which of course makes sense, since he's still in the process of understanding and eventually re-accepting ky, and he's gotta interact a lot with him on a personal level in overture, notably without dizzy to mediate, which i personally think is likely how things went down before she was frozen.

anyways i wanna move onto xrd because i have a lot of feelings about him in sign, STARTING with his conversation with sol at one point. he's just got out after talking with ram for the first time, and sol is telling him to give it up and sin recognizes this for exactly what it is, that sol is showing his own lack of trust and actively choosing not to follow him in this, and while after this is pointed out sol worries that he's trying to turn sin into him, ky is actually the one to recognize that sin understands him at his core. i mean, of course. sin's spent probably more time with sol than he's spent with anyone else, and i find it interesting that he came out of that, not being cold and callous like sol has become, but the absolute opposite. i think he trained himself to be almost the opposite of sol, to be able to see through the walls that his guardian puts up and really understand a lot of what he's getting at. it makes a lot of sense, honestly!

i'd also like to bring up a line that he says earlier in sign, which is, "my heart always has been, and will be, open to all" and i think the real thing that cements this being absolutely TRUE is that it's towards elphelt, almost immediately after being told directly by elphelt that she's quote unquote "hot shit" akin to ram. look if he was the same person as his father or his extra father he'd be worried! but he's NOT! he very much is the type of person to trust in a person and that's important! because without that they never would have worked with elphelt to the degree they did, they never would have tried to save her and thus figured out fucking EVERYTHING with rev, they never would have gotten ramlethal as an ally, none of it! because sin had trust in them and took the time and energy to pay attention to them and try to actually emotionally connect with them, and he was a big part of the reason that ramlethal realized she had feelings!!!! fuck!!!!!!! hes integral to the plot because he is inherently kind!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also fuck. fucking hell his relationship with ky. again. i could write a whole different essay on this and it WILL be covered in bread fic which yes will be updated i swear it. anyways. it takes a lot to willingly accept an effort to repair a relationship and put in effort yourself. and it takes MORE to realize the other side of the situation, especially when it's familial. i just. fuck dude. sin cares so much about his mother and through that finds a new path of caring about his own father whom he hated for almost all of his life. fuck dude. he called him dad. he called him dad. i cannot stress enough how much it fucked me up the first time i saw that scene i was crying in public about it i love them so fucking much dude. so much.

anyways this is a big old ramble but fuck sin gets narrowed down to "haha stupid large child who eats a lot" by a lot of people and i think more of us should recognize that while yes he is a 5 year old who looks jacked and yes he does have the funny eat move, he is also an incredibly kind and emotionally mature character

[depressed-teacup-inc]

At this point, I am literally just trying to see this season to an end

Hi hello, yes I’m late, time to review Revolution! Let’s go because at this point I’m getting tired of this show.

So basically the entire episode is Adrien’s trying to tell Marinette that he’s leaving Paris and trying to stop it, but Marinette doesn’t really listen, and is focused on stopping Chloe, who’s now mayor/dictator??? Yeah trust me the logic of this show is gone, somehow people are ok with the super demonized caricature Chloe being mayor like everyone didn’t hate her already (my guess is that this is supposed to be alluding to the current state of world and politics and lack of trust people hold in the government)? Love the lack of consistency and logic.

Now. I don’t want to criticize Marinette too much, because technically, yes, she was busy trying to handle the Chloe situation (which in itself makes absolutely no sense and by all accounts shouldn’t be possible) but I will note that despite Adrien clearly telling her something was wrong multiple times, she never seems to care or understand? Like he told her multiple times that there’s something wrong, but she never seems to care or do anything about it until it actually affects her (which is unfortunately in character)

But apparently people are criticizing Adrien?! Saying how he’s awful for lying to marinette about having to leave and left it for the last minute? And frankly, the show kinda does it too (in the next episode, many of Adrien’s classmates discuss how awful it is Adrien didn’t say anything and how could he keep this from them like that)

LIKE??? BITCH??? Two points:

1. Adrien’s dad is Gabriel fucking Agreste?!

Like wow what a shocker the child of a man that has proven to abuse and isolate his son on multiple occasions has a fear of asking others for help in his situation because he worries nothing can truly beat this actual billionaire who’s also his legal guardian? And also is implied to have legit magic control powers over him, sentimonster style?

2. This really isn’t that of a big fucking deal

Like I do not get why this show keeps saying how “Adrien lied to marinette!!! He didn’t tell her he’s moving away!!!! How could he!!!” And how literally everyone and their mom is seeing this as an awful situation for marinette, when in actuality, all she knows is that Adrien will now be living a couple of hours away from her (due to the bullet train between Paris and London) and that he won’t literally be with her every second of the day.

Like I get it for a 14 year old yes this might be a huge fucking deal, but Alya even says so herself! Adrien is in London, they’ll just get a couple of tickets for the train and figure it out from their! And even in the worst case scenario where Adrien stays in London, there’s the option of a long distance relationship (that’s just as valid a relationship as any and would be a refreshing take on how not every relationship is super conventional and in person)

I just really don’t understand why the show shows Adrien genuinely going through some horrible shit from his father (like full on white room torture in the episode after) and then all the show focuses on is how this affects marinette and how sad she must be rather then the genuine psychological damage this must be doing for the kid! Like no one in this show remembers the amount of control Gabriel has on Adrien or something.

Anyways rant aside, before the entire going to London thing happens (btw congrats adrienette shippers for the kiss) there’s a whole thing where Chloe makes a deal to be akumatized by Monarch so she can send people to detention (it’s painted as a torture chamber but it’s literally people walking around with a video of Chloe saying they’re ridiculous, so basically P.E. Class), and then there’s a big fight where Ladybug and Chat Noir almost detransform because they used up their lucky charm and cataclysm and are trapped (btw the lucky charm had no fucking point to the story, why was it underwear? Frankly it was kinda creepy if the writers to have panties as the lucky charm for nothing but a weird joke, and not even connecting to the messages of unity and everyone taking action but ok)

But like… they just don’t?! Like I swear to god this show makes no sense anymore, Ladybug and Chat Noir just say they’ll never give up and fully transform and recharge again, and now they have no time limit and full powers?!

Like, the entire principal (just like Gabriel said) of the miraculous time limit, is that Kwamis need to recharge after one use, and that adults can lend some of their energy and power to Kwamis and therefore have them last longer to the point they don’t need to detransform, hence “only adults don’t need to detransform”

But now it’s apparently a purely emotional thing and not physical? Ladybug and Chat Noir somehow grew up by saying they’ll never detransform again (I do not at all see how this is a moment of growth to them) and now they just don’t detransform, despite the fact they are physically still kids?

Like by the shows logic of emotional maturity, Gabriel shouldn’t be able to hold a transformation at all then, because he’s the farthest thing from emotionally mature.

And also, it kinda makes all the stakes in fights now null and void? The biggest stake and challenge in each fight from day one of miraculous was “there’s this bad guy, you guys have one chance to use your special powers to beat them, think smart and solve this puzzle” but now it’s just gone??? It would have worked if the akumas overtime became more intense and hard to beat but clearly that’s not the case as even akumas powered up with actual miraculouses can be beat by a normal ladybug and chat noir.

The best thing the show could have done here is rather then make the becoming adult thing emotional maturity, have Ladybug and Chat Noir notice their transformation seems ti be slowly lasting longer as they age (have it be a metaphor for puberty and growing up or something) and then actually make the fights and villains more difficult and compelling so by the time Ladybug and Chat Noir no longer transform back, the priority isn’t for them to keep their secret identity (which sucks and anyways doesn’t matter) but to stay alive!

But anyways I digress, when has this show ever pulled a logical move?

Which speaking of…

I have no fucking clue what they’re doing with Chloe anymore.

They spent. Entire SEASONS! PLURAL! SEASONS! After the introduction of Audrey Bourgeois, telling us how “no Chloe is irredeemable her actions are never justifiable she’s just evil and bad and she has no other reason for doing anything and she’s so bad she’s cooperating with monarch and Lila look how evil she is hate her so marinette looks better in comparison”

To now… suddenly pulling this scene?!

Like. WHY??? Why would you purposely demonize Chloe despite the very real opportunity she had to get better and be complex, only to now pull a “whoops wait look guys deep compelling character!”

And while I heard people say this is the show maybe finally making Chloe get her redemption arc after hitting rock bottom, I can’t agree? The show is known for its repetitive nature, and if the show is to redeem Chloe and suddenly make her a good person or give her a compelling reason for acting the way she did, marinette looks bad in comparison, for not having as compelling reasons to do just as bad things:

Example? Marinette and Chloe in season 3’s Animaestro, trying to sabotage Lagami and publicly humiliate her in front of Adrien so she won’t “win him over”.

If Chloe has an explanation for this behavior (she’s taught to be cruel and mean from a young age by an abusive and neglectful mother, and because of her equally neglectful father, she learned the only way she’s heard and anyone cares for her is if she lashes out, and someone will just throw money on the problem) what reason does marinette have? She was raised by perfectly loving and doting (maybe too doting) parents, who from day one have taught her to be kind to others, and to do good.

Both characters did an awful thing, just one character has a genuinely compelling explanation for said behavior, while the other is pure jealousy and wanting the guy for herself by all costs.

So no, I don’t think the show will redeem Chloe for that reason: because it would force marinette to admit her wrongdoings and therefore force the plot to develop!

So this just makes no sense? It feels like a case of the show wanting to have its cake and eat it too, wanting the show to remain the same, Chloe to remain awful for no reason, and for marinette to stay the hero by comparison, but also have the bragging rights to say “we write complex character you guys!”

It makes no sense is my point.

Anyways besides these huge inconsistencies, leaps in logic, and bad writing, I don’t really have anything else about this episode to say? This show has officially come to the point for me where I genuinely think nothing will ever change or be able to fix how wrong everything is (from characterization of everyone except for marinette, the plot, the rules of miraculouses, the LOVE SQUARE)

[aspideronmywall]

Be preped for this long post, kind of a wordy think I'm having at 10:48 pm about Top Gun Maverick...

"No wife, no kids. Nobody to mourn you when you burn-in."

No kids.

Pete definitely thinks of Bradley as a son, his godson. Bradley's cool, collected, brutal implication of that line that tells Pete that he doesn't think of Mav as a father figure absolutely crushed me when watching the first time.

I got to thinking, what if Mav died instead of Ice? Bradley at first would feel relief actually, that the one man standing in the way of his dreams is finally out of the picture, tha man who he thinks ruined the Bradshaw name and legacy. Does he show up at the funeral? Of course, not to mourn him, but to have his final say over the man who he thought tried to ruin his career out of spite. He's there ready to get his closure, but in fact it's the opposite of what he feels when he sees the amount of other people who showed up.

The ones who are left of the '86 class, Slider Hollywood, Sunny, Wolfman. I'd think there would be a missing Chipper due to is own health problems. You get Viper, Mavericks own surrogate father figure, Cougar and Merlin Bradley learns that Maverick didn't have a father figure either, learning how his dad's reputation prevented him from joining the academy initially.

Then the regret sets in. The regret of not letting Pete explain his actions. Of listening to the words Maverick would tell him time and time again.

"Bradley, it's not a bad thing to keep yourself conservative, but a lack of taking risks can get people killed too. Your father taught me that."

Other people are gathered the dagger squad, other Top Gun classes that he taught, even people from the experimental plane program that he was part of, Hondo, Cyclone, Warlock.

Iceman.

Admiral Kasansky was the top ranking officer at the funeral and as the procession moved on Ice began to shake. His dumbass of a captain was gone, no one to smile or wink to calm his nerves, not like Maverick could. He stepped up to the casket and placed his wings on the cool black wood, and as jets flew overhead he would slam. His fist down onto the pin to solidify them in their spot forever. Ice would have tears streaming down his face as he shook with grief.

Bradley would be there, standing shoulder to shoulder with his squadron, Hangman, Phoenix, Bob and the others looking on as they watch the legendary Admiral who's ice cold demeanor could never be melted, shattered and battered in an instant.

Bradly would then receive a letter stating his inheritance from Mav, the keys to the hangar and a small F-14 Keychain. When he makes it to the hangar, seeing the motorcycles the plane, and way in the back the assortment of pictures of his two fathers and some pictures of himself growing up. Bradley would find some old photo albums, the one with the name Bradshaw worn beyond repair. Bradley would flip through them delicately as to not make the damn thing fall apart and gasp as he saw an entire section dedicated to him. A lot of the younger photos he saw had been taken by his dad. But then he started to see ones from his flight school days, his top gun class, different squadron as he got assigned to different carriers. He would be baffled, calling some of his old crew, old WSO'S and other deck people, they would all tell him the same thing.

"Yeah this guy was interested in every picture we took of you man. He said it was for a gift for you, the dude practically drained my phone battery that day as we talked for ages, he loves you man, whoever he is."

Bradly would have a full breakdown then, hating himself so much for pushing Maverick away. When all he wanted to do was be the father he lost, not just because Maverick felt responsible for Goose's death, but because he loved Bradley like his own damn son. Bradley would eventually find Goose's helmet, not the one he died in, but the brand new shiny ones they were supposed to wear that day with the top gun insignia on the inside of the lining. Goose had only worn it once for a fitting and then kept it away as his old helmet had worked perfectly fine anyway. Bradly would put it on, clipping the mask over his face and lay in the small bed in the hangar for hours, staring at the ceiling before falling asleep.

[dsimeon]

Okay, so… Lesson 40 spoilers ahead. I have many thoughts. Be warned, not all thoughts are positive.

Alright, so… We all know the general thoughts and feelings about the writing in nightbringer especially. I’ll touch on that later- but I will say, i sure as hell don’t think it was good in this most recent lesson.

First, I will say- I did greatly enjoy the individual moments with each of our boys. You’ll never guess who my favorite was- no, don’t look at the blog name- shit, yeah, it was Simeon. A close second was Barbatos, and following that, I loved Solomon in the whole lesson.

Simeon’s individual time was adorable. I loved the callback to the previous lesson. Giving him his own advice, and getting the option to cover his eyes for him as well? I think that was a nice touch. I also loved how we could see the seed of distrust planted in Simeon. We got to see him begin questioning his Father, which I think was actually very interesting. There Will be writing based on that coming from me at some point lol.

Next, Barbatos. I’ve seen other people talking about it, but… He knows. Barbatos SO knows. I loved how they hinted at him knowing that we aren’t from that time.

Lastly on the individual characters, Solomon! Normally, in OM, things that happened a while ago just straight up get forgotten, or brushed under the rug if they conflict with something new. I fully expected that to be the case with telling him his food is hot garbage. But it was very fun to see his endeavors in cooking once more, and actually succeeding with the help of Luke and Barbatos! I still feel bad about telling him the truth, but hey… someone had to. And we had a nice moment where his food was actually appreciated for it!

Now… That’s about all the positive things I have to say about this chapter. Please, click away if you don’t want to see criticism.

So… The goodbye felt lacking. The whole thing did, honestly- but the goodbye especially. You mean to tell me that we spent months building up to this epic moment where we are supposed to be going back home and… That?

1: the whole portal thing was absolutely pulled out of someone’s ass. Unless anyone remembers something I don’t- there was absolutely 0 mention of some hole in the sky that was meant to take us home. It makes no sense, either. We had the OPTION to wait until the founding ceremony, according to Solomon. That’s what made it special, in my opinion. The whole thing felt like laziness and rushed explanation. It feels as though they just didn’t want us to see Lucifer’s speech and wanted some excuse for the boys to “sacrifice” something for us, but really- there’s no reason.

2: You mean to tell me we really didn’t get to figure anything out about nightbringer? I want to be able to say that I trust the writers to give us more on nightbringer in the later lessons, but… We all know how much Solmare loves to just brush things under the rug. I wouldn’t be shocked if we got a half assed explanation, or even just ignored the whole nightbringer dudarino entirely.

3: Now, I can’t personally attest to it since I don’t give as many fucks about the hard lessons… But from what I hear, the hard lesson 40 was kinda bullshit. You’ll have to look for someone else’s explanation (or please, post your experience here!) but basically, from what I gathered, it also seemed very half assed.

4: This one is maybe more subjective, but… It bothers me a LOT that we never came clean. We made this big deal about having the brothers and everyone else trust us, but at the end of the day? We were no better. We hid a huge secret. And, don’t get me started with the whole “we can’t say anything because it will alter timelines” bullshit, because what the hell is the excuse with lesson 16 in OG? We died, then showed up again back then. That’s pretty groundbreaking shit.

ADDITIONALLY… Would that not give something for us to overcome? What is the point of storytelling if not to give the characters a problem? Say the timeline went fucky because we said something- I think that’s a way more entertaining tale than if everything went perfectly according to plan.

I’m really, really irritated that the MC had to be so hypocritical. How is it fair that we demand the trust from others if we won’t place our trust in them?

So… There are my thoughts. I don’t think my experience is universal- people are 100% free to disagree. But, with this being the season finale, I feel it was so… so lacking. Please, share your thoughts!

[talkin-tdc]

Ranting about my favorite character XD

I love Ordon…but I need to rant about him a bit

Ordon is quite frankly one of my favorite characters, I love what he does with Rian and their cute interactions after he turns good and all that…but that’s why I wanted him to survive and why I have to fault him for all his DUMB moves!! (Also I get that the gelfling aren’t supposed to be the brightest or some suspicious, so just take this in good fun as an outsider looking in/advice I would’ve given him if I could).

I’m not going to fault him for putting Tolyn in charge because honestly that was one of his few good choices. He’s fiercely loyal to the lords and the crystal which is what he was supposed to be so while yes Tolyn sucks and he basically killed the guard, can’t blame Ordon for that one in a good conscience…

You know what I CAN blame him for though? His complete lack of awareness in the carriage scene! Like, dude, you are the head of security! The Captain of the crystal guard and you let some rando maiden who looks to be a princess (but you don’t know for sure because she could be lying) into the lord’s carriage?! And people might be thinking ‘Oh, but SkekOk insisted’ and yeah he did but would it have killed Ordon to at least try to be more vigilant? Like do a pat down or question her to validate her claims or something? Have her empty her pockets? No? Nothing before he lets a random girl on the street into the carriage of the lords of the crystal?! She could’ve had a knife, or poison, or a million other things and he doesn’t even bother to check. It didn’t even seem like he knew her or had met her before evidence by the fact that he referred to her as “girl”. Yet he lets her in without even asking her name if something bad potentially happened, just trusts that the crowd says she’s a princess.

Next up for stupid decisions is the decision to not talk to Gurjin or get any tangible proof while he was at the castle that Rian killed Mira. I mean I know most people can write this one off, but honestly this is the most heinous in my opinion. Like he doesn’t even see her body, heinous. Let me say that again for the people in the back ahem HE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW FOR A FACT THAT SHE WAS DEAD!! You couldn’t even be bothered to ask about the body? Like ‘hey can I see her stab wounds to know if a gelfling really killed her?’ Not even that?!?! She could’ve been kidnapped for all he knew! She could’ve still been alive marking Rian innocent, but nooo we can’t have common sense can we? And not even trying to talk to Gurjin? Come on! He’d be far more likely to admit to you than anyone if your son really did commit a crime. He didn’t even check to see if Gurjin had the sickness that Rian had. He surely needed to prepare himself for the journey to find Rian, he couldn’t have swung by just to try to investigate? Couldn’t have asked Tolyn to investigate and make sure Gurjin was actually sick or showed any signs of sickness before you left?! It’s like he wants to believe Rian’s a murderer and was sick to protect his own reputation, that is not the thing to be worried about in that scenario!

Finally we come to his stupidest decision yet, going with Rian to Ha’rar. While yes there were a lot of emotions after the dreamfast and obviously that clouded everyone’s judgment, it made absolutely zero sense to go there together. Why not hmmm I don’t know have the all maudra’s daughter go with him instead of the gelfling who is said father of the accused murderer? Like Tavra could get an audience with Mayrin way faster than Ordon could. Plus she’s a third party without Ordon’s bias. I’m also sure it’d be just a little bit easier to get Gurjin out of the cells or try to save the guard or figure out more information on the Skeksis if he went instead of Tavra. Plus while running in the forest, Ordon stated he had knowledge of more of the Skeksis wrong doings, so it also could’ve made more sense if he had spoken to Maudra Fara about their info and convince her earlier that something was up.

Anyway yeah, rant over. I love him as a character but his choices could’ve been better for survival. I really wish he could’ve survived for season two if that had ended up happening but it is what it is. Let me know your thoughts on him as a character!

[weird-dere-writes]

Marshall got me on a fucking hook ffs

DO U REALIZE HOW BAD THIS MAN WOULD HAVE ME WITH HIS FLIRTING??¿??¿?¿¿¿ u know this guy is a DAMN TEASE AND COCKY (with mommy issues)

But i feel like he would confuse you and make u question ur feelings cuz tends to be a jerk sometimes

So i got lil angsty idea

So I just imagen us bashing out what the feelings that been pilling up, his cheeck red cuz u snapped HARD at him after he ketp going even when u told him to quit it

So there u are crying and screaming at him, telling him that he eother means it or not and if he keeo goings like this with you, he might as welp hit the bricks cuz u won't want to hear from him again. He just kinda in a shock state as u tell him all of this

So u stomp away and he breaks his trance and floats to you and tries to stop u from leaving him with the possibility of never seeing you again. Cuz he cares. SO MUCH but he sucks at showing it, often desguising it with his bad boy persona

I just imagen after that he works to become a better man AND partner (i seen the episodes with marceline and princess bubblegum AND ITS THE GREENEST FLAG COUPLE CUZ THEY BOTH SO HONEST AND REALLY WANNA WORK THINGS OUT SO I SAY HE WOULD BE A GOOD BF lil probs there and there but he'll work them for you and him)

Anyway there goes my rant, inspired by one of the oldest episodes when fionna was still a lil new <3333

"he might as welp hit the bricks cuz u won't want to hear from him again" i know it's supposed to be sad but the way this made me CACKLE LMAO. Cus of the 'if it sucks hit da bricks' skeleton meme AMEOLI:NMRIEOMNTDRF:.

BUT ANYWAY lol Flashbacks to that old adventure time episode of Fionna and Cake. Fionna just crying over Marshall pretending to be dying and she yells "FOR ONCE DROP IT YOU FREAK!" And he's just so shocked, "Glob Fionna, you're the realest person I've ever met." And then Fionna just proceeds to emotionally punch him lmao.

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HE'S JUST SUCH A GUY <333333. But like no, you're so right he would also absolutely kill me with the flirting at times. Just his voice alone makes me ASCEEEEENNNNDDDDDD. At other times tho I could see myself totally play flirting with him right back. Just depends on my mood I guess.

But yeah, it gets to a point where it's like what are we? And you really wanna address it, but he just ignores cus I guess trying to think about it makes him uncomfortable? Maybe because he feels he wouldn't know how to be a good partner to u due to his own lack of a father (rip genderbent Elise 😔) or father figure. And you keep hinting at it, and even gently asking openly, like seriously, where is this going? But he just keeps changing the subject and pushing the thought away. And one day you've just had enough. You need to know now. You need to know if you can keep letting this go on or if you need to let him go and move on. Because you don't have forever to wait like he does.

So you yell, you cry, you ball your fists to stop yourself from hitting or shoving him. And he freezes up. He doesn't know what to do, what to say, how to make it better and stop your from hurting because of him. He's flustered, confused, and then you turn your back on him. He's absolutely lost, his unbeating heart pulling him in every direction. But he knows he can't lose you. Not like this. He cares for you too much. He really likes you. He... actually loves you. So he follows you. Because he doesn't want you to leave him. He's still silent as he thinks about how to never make you feel this raw again. But the way he stops you and just holds you tells you everything you need to know. He wants this. He just needs your help in figuring out how to do it right 🥺💔.

UGH your brain is so juicy Ane I loved your rant very very much :3 💋💋💋💋

[coredrill]

br4vern thoughts, mostly just a stream of consciousness

this ep needed more bravern 😭 i mean it didn’t, it was rly good and i liked him relating well with isami but between the downer ending + lack of bravern + no fight scene i’d say it’s probably the one that clicked w me the least so far, i had to rewatch it a few times to figure out how i felt………..still really funny though and the campy post-irony is really gelling well imo, the sound design of isami in that fucking suit and getting punched killed me, and lulu chugging the water, and bravern with his fucking lei of wieners and the way he said JAAAAPAAAN!! 💀

to the surprise of Absolutely no one i am so so endeared to lulu and smith………there were so many sweet moments they got and gremlin lulu is so good 😭 it’s hard being a single father when you’re (googles) SMITH IS FUCKING 24?????? AND BORN ON VALENTINES DAY??????? HUH!!!!! i thought he was like. 32. okay anyways it’s hard being a single father when you’re 24 and . i forgot where i was going with this. but i am excited for her haircut and to see who gives it to her………….

miyu sweetie i love your enthusiasm but i. am not a fan of isami’s suit design LMAO. perhaps it will grow on me once i see it in action however the fucking. spine bracer? that seems like it is gonna be a Bad Time if smth goes wrong 😳

isami’s really just having the Worst time of his life and now he’s in his hater era beefing with a child LMAO, they should’ve just told him that she threw a jug at the guy who waterboarded him and i think he would like her more :] i do assume it’s gonna be more justified in the plot by like. lulu being Of Superbia and therefore the enemy and isami’s angry at smith for fraternizing with her (especially since isami’s whole “smith doesn’t do his job” thing kinda fell apart when bravern was like “smith will do his job” and isami was like “yeah i know” LMAO) but if they continue to also play it from the angle of Isami’s Gay Feelings i hope it doesn’t drag out too much longer………….if you like the dude just tell him (<- average kaworu enjoyer sentiment) ESPECIALLY since everyone else seems to understand that lulu’s smith’s kiddo lmao. was nice to see him making more friends though :]

if i were a theory maker i would be going bananas with this show but i am not so i am simply enjoying reading everyone else’s :] there was one from a jp fan that referenced the n3i scene and i am rotating that one in my mind rn…………..anyways i feel like if this show nails its middle and ending i am gonna look back and be like Damn that was some smart writing LMAO, like there sure is a lot of heavy handed building to Something. feels careful and deliberate and with a good amount of “thing you didn’t realize was important becoming the key to everything five episodes later.” excited for what’s to come :]

[zepskies]

I can't believe I got to read this a month ago already on Patreon, but revisiting again here, there's just so much rich story happening in 10K it's unreal! 😍💛

His presence stirred something deep inside you, and you hated it. You needed to fucking leave. Fast.

Yeeeeah, try to stomp out your almost twitterpated feelings. We'll see how far you get on that one. 🤭

She does have a point that her mere presence here is a problem for the timeline (and potentially "trouble" for Ben), but really she's afraid of getting to attached to him emotionally, despite how much she doesn't want to like him lol

“Hey, you’re up early,” he greeted you with a brief flick of his eyes as he adjusted the cufflinks in his shirt. He was dressed impeccably in a sharp, charcoal gray, three-piece suit that made him look every bit the man his father expected him to be. But he didn’t seem happy.

🫠🫠 Am I drooling at this description? Maybe. Am I already sad at the last line? Definitely. 💙

Because I've read some of the later chapters, I can say with even more certainty that you're doing such a good job of fleshing out an aspect of Ben's past that we only briefly get glimpses of in season 3. I think this is part of what I love about fanfiction - and of your writing especially - is that you've dug deep into what makes Ben overcompensate as Soldier Boy to make up for this complex with his father.

Homelander, Soldier Boy, Butcher -- something all these guys have in common is how the lack of a healthy father figure in their lives royally fucked them up, down to their cores.

You exhaled a frustrated sigh. This was getting old. “Why d’you care?” Ben seemed caught off guard by the sudden sharpness in your voice. But then his lips curled into a half-smile, too tight at the corners, as he casually brushed off your question. “Yeah, guess I’m not supposed to care, right?” He let out a short snort that almost sounded like an inside joke, his eyes flickering to the side, posture stiffening ever so slightly. He took a step back from you, adjusting his cufflinks again as if the distance and mindless fumbling could redirect the conversation, but the subtle grind of his jaw betrayed him.

Oooh, the way my heart stung for him in this scene. 🥲 I get why she's cagey and feels like she can't tell him the truth, but he's already battling with his inner nature to actually give a fuck, vs. the stoicism his father would have him embody. The air of "don't give a fuck" that he'll later have as Soldier Boy. 🙃

“Take your time, sweetheart. Really, there’s no need to rush, okay?” A tame smile played across his lips. “I-, uh, I don’t mind the company. Makes the house feel a little less empty.”

*sniff* It's fucking dusty in here, okay? 🥲

You wouldn’t play The Donna Reed Show with him – and even that was still more than a decade of progressive thought away.

Lollll forgive me, but--

“Look, as much as I enjoy seeing you in my clothes, sweetheart, I figured we should get you something more… fitting. Especially if you still plan your escape to the big, wide world out there.”

Oh look at him, being all cheeky and adorable (and insufferable). 😝 I absolutely loved the reader's My Fair Lady moment, but before that, we've gotta talk about Florence. You get the vibe that she's one of the few people in this house that genuinely cares about Ben. Like his mother, Florence watched him grow up as a precocious little boy, sweet, the dreamer, "always asking questions," and slowly but surely being broken by his father. 🥲

Her hands stilled mid-wipe on the countertop. “One day, Benjamin brought home a small dog. Old, injured… it could hardly walk. His father... he made him kill it.” She looked at you then, her eyes sharp. “To teach him a lesson. About weakness. He said a man can’t be soft. That weakness could bring the whole family down. Benjamin never brought a stray home again after that.” Until you.

FUCK. Let's drop Mr. Brooks into the pit of Mt. Doom. Please, Wayne, can we pleasssse? Or better yet, I love the idea of having the reader time-vault him back into the time of the bubonic plague. Animal cruelty is just so telling of someone's character (or lack thereof!). 😡😡😡

But here we are with warning #1. It's feeling somewhat "don't go into the West Wing." Or better yet, yeet yourself from the castle, before the real beast sees you. 😬

Soon, you started to freeze, though Ben had left his wool coat behind for you with a handwritten note, which was handed to you by Florence. In case you go outside to look for an escape route…

How thoughtful! loll Ben, you sly one you. 😏 I do love his sense of humor though. So cheeky and cocky without it being totally arrogant.

And as you observed Florence’s devotion to him, you suddenly saw the pattern as clear as day and knew you could never, ever unsee it afterward. His future counterpart had certainly shown a… preference in older housekeepers and maids – sexually.

Oh Jesus Christ, I forgot about this moment!!! lmfaoooooo BEN. Please don't tell me you're implying that he got more of an "education" with Miss Florence. 😭💀💀

The seamstress paused, considering the two of you, and then smiled in a way that felt a little too knowing. “Well, I suppose we could compromise. A sophisticated look, not too dramatic, but refined and elegant. The perfect balance. And just a hint of mystery, of course.” God, she was good. You had to give her that. She really knew what she was doing, although you hated the fact she could read you so easily.

lolll Effie got her good on this one! "Just a hint of mystery." -- make that a big dose. 😂😂

Ben is enjoying this way too much, but I loved seeing how the reader tried to contend with all of this. Her "accidental" cursing making Effie nearly collapse had me caaackling!! 🤣 Ben was no help at all in that moment! But I was smiling so hard throughout the whole scene loll

Tbh, I don't think an etiquette coach is gonna even put a dent in it on this one. 🤣

“Uh, little bit of everything, I guess,” he replied vaguely at first, still trying to impress you. But then he wet his lips in thought. “To be honest, I wasn’t really paying a lot of attention to my classes.”

*snort* you don't say?

“Oh, it’s too bad your mother won’t be here to see this!” Ms. Vivian tragically sighed. “She would’ve loved it! She was a wonderful player herself, always entertaining the guests at parties.” “Was?” You looked at Ben, but he averted his gaze to the floor, never quite meeting your eyes. You couldn’t remember if Soldier Boy had ever mentioned his mother. You’d heard plenty about his father, but his mother seemed more like an elusive mirage, swallowed by the exorbitant daddy issues that haunted him.

Siggggh, poor Margaret. But this is such a great flash of mystery to include about his mother (and I love that I've already gotten to see her refresh her piano skills later on).

“Percival?” you mouthed at Ben, slowly erupting into a laugh. His cheeks flushed so red you could’ve confused them for Mars.

Again, I SO hope she has a field day with "Percival" when she gets back to the future. 🤣

I love also that the reader gets her transformation moment, even walking down a staircase in her new beautiful outfit (even if it does have the unintended affect of making Dottie even more jealous 😭). But that was so cute -- and fitting -- how she still had her Chucks on lolol. Ben's reaction was priceless 👌🏽😂😂

The laughing crinkles around his eyes then softened to something warmer, the heat of his lingering stare rushing straight into your veins. “You look… I guess ‘breathtaking’ is the right word for it.” Yup, that melted your heart right down to your core.

Girl same. 🫠🫠🫠

The contrast between his parents, however, was striking. His father stood tall and imposing, with sharp features and an air of authority that practically leapt off the picture. He didn’t share a lot of resemblance with his son, but weirdly, you could see some similarities between Ben’s father and his future offspring, making you wonder if Soldier Boy ever took note of those attributes as well. Ben’s mother, on the other hand, was beautiful, her soft features highlighted by a gentle smile. Her eyes were kind, her posture relaxed, and she seemed almost ethereal compared to the rigid formality of her husband.

Again, I love this contrast and connection between Homelander looking more like his father than Ben himself (because really, Antony looks nothing like Jensen lmfao).

That Ben looks more like his mother of course implies that who he is at his core is more like her. ❤️‍🩹 I really think it would break her heart to see what he became as Soldier Boy.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think you got lucky,” you said, a teasing smile playing on your lips. You giggled when his brows shot up. “Your mom’s a lot prettier than your dad. I’d be grateful if I were you.” Ben huffed a chuckle of disbelief, shaking his head. A grin formed and widened on his freckled, clean-shaven face. “You think I’m handsome?” “I believe I said pretty,” you teased.

Absolutely love this exchange 😂💛💛

But of course, my heart absolutely broke all over again when Ben explains how his mother changed, became beaten down over time in spirit by his father. Ben's so aware of this, and yet he still wants to be like his father. That's the part that gets me the most on this reread, honestly.

And then, the air shifted. You could feel it all around you, settling on your skin in a veil of delicate blossoms, rising in response to whispers of electricity. They danced across the surface, each little peak a shiver of anticipation. Your heart drummed louder, faster, till it drowned out all the other noise. There was just you and him at that moment in time. You’d held eye contact for too long, the silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. It was addicting.

Ahhhhh the way you wove this moment is utterly brilliant. I love when scenes take a beat in the silences and fill it with unspoken meaning, especially because the imagery here is so rich, so very poetic and beautiful. And best of all, it had me on the edge of my seat in that "will they/won't they" tension. 😭

But she just had to pull away! 🙄

...loll it's okay. It's not their time yet, but you got me good, Wayne!! 🥲

Ben pulled out a chair for you, his movements graceful and old-fashioned.

Love this little detail. ❤️

“So, out of curiosity, did you sleep with Dottie?” Ben choked on the sip of red wine in his mouth, a few tiny drops staining his pristine white dress shirt. You’re sure neither Florence nor Ms. Vivian would be pleased with that – but you were. “Hm? What?” He blinked at you like a deer in headlights, clearing the rest of the wine from his throat. “Why? Did she say something to you?”

lmfaoooo good for reader on calling him out on this! This moment was so hilarious, but this part genuinely hurt my heart for poor Dottie:

Before you could finish, your eyes flicked to Dottie in the doorway, holding a plate with a piece of cake and a burning candle stuck in it in her hands. The look on her face was devastating. Honestly, did this man possess no awareness at all?

Well, on the bright side, "now he sees it." 🙄 Typical fuckboy behavior aside, the gesture had good intentions lol. That was a really good detail of her lying about her age, considering by her 30s she'd pretty much be considered a spinster already. 🙃

(And you had me dead at that last granny fucker quip! 🤣)

But like you said in your AN, I don't think age matters all that much with SB lmfao, and particularly in this fic where "time" really is relative. 🤣

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. This story is so well-paced.

You're giving these bonding moments time to breathe, with ebbs and flows to their connection, Ben's playfulness and curiosity, glimpses of his parents (and ominous warnings), the reader's internal conflict about her growing feelings toward him, with I feel a secret feeling of wanting to know more about him and who he is now, the pressure of trying to get back home, getting her powers to work -- all of this and so much more makes this one of my favorite SB stories I've read so far, let alone one of my favorite fics of yours. 💛💛💛

Time After Time – Chapter 4

Summary: Unable to control your abilities, you’re stuck in the present with Billy Butcher, his team, and America’s first asshole. At this point, you’ve become Soldier Boy’s personal punching bag. But when an accident leaves you stranded in 1942, you run into a familiar face and suddenly rely on your future tormentor’s help as your only hope.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, reader is a supe with chronokinesis (time manipulation), 1942 says hi, SB being a nice and kind human, angst, mentions of animal cruelty, fluff, humor, slow burn, a super cliché makeover moment

Word Count: 10.1k

Posted on Patreon March 21, 2025

A/N: Heads up! My responses will still be a little slow. The boys are sick and I'm the last one standing. Haven't slept a lot this week lol. In other news – we're beginning our deep dive into Ben's past and doing a little bonding. Enjoy! 😉 ✨ Chapter title comes from Gone with the Wind (1939)

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Chapter 4: After All, Tomorrow Is Another Day

You opened your eyes to soft sunlight filtering through heavy curtains. The room was huge, as was the bed, but it was the unfamiliarity of it all that made you shift uncomfortably in the plush sheets.

The clothes Ben had lent you felt strange. You couldn’t help but remember the quiet tension between you two in his father’s study, the moment you both had almost crossed some invisible line, and then he’d pulled away like it had never been there.

Still, you couldn't shake the pull he had on you. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that his kindness was a distraction – an unexpected one. His presence stirred something deep inside you, and you hated it. You needed to fucking leave. Fast.

You forced yourself to get up, the cool hardwood floors sending a shiver up your spine as you made your way to the door. You didn’t belong here – not in this house, not in this time. You needed to escape before things got any more goddamn complicated.

You descended the grand staircase, the weight of the mansion pressing down on you once more, its silence almost suffocating. The sound of your footsteps echoed through the empty hall before Ben already appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

How the fuck was he doing that? He didn’t have super-hearing yet, did he?

“Hey, you’re up early,” he greeted you with a brief flick of his eyes as he adjusted the cufflinks in his shirt.

He was dressed impeccably in a sharp, charcoal gray, three-piece suit that made him look every bit the man his father expected him to be. But he didn’t seem happy.

You had gathered enough courage to speak by the time you reached the last step – and him. “Yeah, uh, I was wondering if we could maybe get a jump start on my… departure?”

Ben bobbed his head, lips pursed, but avoided looking straight into your eyes. “Sure, yeah,” he said at first, but you knew there’d be more. A lot more. “I just have to drop by the office and take care of a few things. But I told Florence, our housekeeper, to take good care of you. She’s already prepared breakfast for you in the dining room. Anything you need, just tell her, and she’ll get it for you. Make yourself at home, okay?”

What the fucking fuck was happening?

Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you ultimately found the words. “Am I–“ Ben’s head tilted at you, a hint of amusement and curiosity on his face. “Am I a hostage?”

He barked a loud laugh at your question, but then instantly lowered the volume to a more soothing tone. “No, no, of course not. You can leave anytime, sweetheart,” he assured you, and miraculously, you believed him. “Look, if you want to leave, I’ll take you to the train station or whatever right now. I just figured, you know, you seemed like you needed a little more time. I mean, do you know yet where you’re going next?”

“I told you. New York.” You folded your arms, shrugging.

“You have a place there? A home? Family? Friends? What?” he badgered on, crossing his own arms over his broad chest with a scrutinizing look.

“Yes.”

“Which one?”

Shit. 

You exhaled a frustrated sigh. This was getting old. “Why d’you care?”

Ben seemed caught off guard by the sudden sharpness in your voice. But then his lips curled into a half-smile, too tight at the corners, as he casually brushed off your question. “Yeah, guess I’m not supposed to care, right?”

He let out a short snort that almost sounded like an inside joke, his eyes flickering to the side, posture stiffening ever so slightly. He took a step back from you, adjusting his cufflinks again as if the distance and mindless fumbling could redirect the conversation, but the subtle grind of his jaw betrayed him.

You hesitated for a beat, but then decided to tell the truth. “Look, I-, I don’t really have anything in New York. I just figured I could find… something there, you know?”

Saying the words out loud caused a wave of panic to rise in your chest. He was right. Even if you left, you had no place to go and no idea how to get your abilities back yet.

“Listen, don’t worry about overstaying your welcome, alright?” Ben said then as if he could feel the anxiety taking over you. His eyes sized you up, wondering if you would push back again. “Take your time, sweetheart. Really, there’s no need to rush, okay?” A tame smile played across his lips. “I-, uh, I don’t mind the company. Makes the house feel a little less empty.”

Fucking hell…

You wanted to tell him to stop – stop being so fucking considerate and sweet when all you wanted was to disappear. But your throat tightened, and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. So you just nodded and forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Alright.” Ben gave a satisfied nod. “I’ll be in the office. You have a good day, sweetheart.”

Shit. By the affectionate gleam in his green eyes, you could tell he was enjoying this scene a little too much. You wouldn’t play The Donna Reed Show with him – and even that was still more than a decade of progressive thought away. All that was missing from his goodbye was a kiss to your temple and the sentence, “Can’t wait to see what you have cooked for dinner tonight, honey!” 

“By the way, I arranged for my mother’s tailor to come by this afternoon,” he added on his way to the front door.

“What?!”

Oh, you didn’t like this at all…

Ben only laughed at your gasp of horror. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in time. Not throwing you to the wolves alone,” he quipped.

Needless to say, that didn’t comfort you in the slightest.

“Wait, what?!”

Ben gave you a patient smile, his amusement still visible before it morphed to a more teasing nature. “Look, as much as I enjoy seeing you in my clothes, sweetheart, I figured we should get you something more… fitting. Especially if you still plan your escape to the big, wide world out there.”

Before you could say another word, he was already disappearing out the door, his footsteps echoing as they faded into the distance. However, you didn’t remain alone for long.

“Miss?” A soft voice interrupted your thoughts.

You turned to find a woman in a worn, but well-kept uniform suddenly standing in the foyer. She must have been the housekeeper Ben told you about – Florence.

Her face was kind, lined with the wear of years spent in this house, but there was a warmth in her smile that made her seem less like staff and more like family.

“Would you like something to eat, miss? It’s all ready for you in the sunroom.” Her voice was almost motherly, comforting, as if she’d been saying the same thing to Ben since he was a child.

You blinked at the mention of something called a sunroom. Sure, you’d heard of it, but you had never seen one nor had you ever known someone to own one. You’d grown up in a trailer park in Jersey, then lived in small and shabby cabin in the woods with a lot plumbing issues, and now in a shoebox apartment in a sketchy part of New York.

You glanced down the hallway at the dark, opulent, and intimidating dining room and figured the sunroom surely sounded… happier. But you didn’t want to eat alone in a big, empty mansion, your eyes landing on the housekeeper.

Florence had probably seen a lot over the years in this household. Maybe Ben wasn’t the only source of information around.

Since you couldn’t leave and Ben was so obviously avoiding you and your departure plans, you figured you could spend the day snooping.

This place was Soldier Boy’s diary, after all.

“I was thinking... maybe I could have breakfast with you? In the kitchen?” you asked her with a shy, yet friendly smile.

Florence’s brow rose in obvious surprise but quickly returned your smile. “Of course, miss. I can’t say I’ve ever had company for breakfast before since I’ve worked here, but I’d be glad to have you join me.”

Well, you had always loved being a little rule breaker.

You followed her into the kitchen, where the heavenly smell of eggs, bacon, and freshly brewed coffee wound its way to your nose. Your stomach suddenly grumbled. You hadn’t fucking eaten since that piece of birthday cake Annie had brought in that morning in the office.

It already felt like a lifetime ago. Had it been chocolate cake or red velvet? Why couldn’t you remember?

Swallowing, your gaze wandered around the kitchen as the housekeeper already bustled around, placing a plate down on an old oak table in the middle of the room. It was a warm, cozy space despite its size, shelves with china and silver lining the walls. Another fire crackled in the corner – they pretty much had a fucking fireplace in every room of this house.

You thanked Florence with a smile as you sat down, already stuffing a forkful of eggs into your mouth. “How long have you worked here, Florence?”

“Oh, I’ve known Benjamin since he was born.” She laughed softly as she continued working by the counters. “My mother had already worked for his grandfather.”

“Wow, so I guess you know Benjamin pretty well,” you said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“I do.” Florence chuckled but then let out a soft, nostalgic sigh. “He always had a lot to say, even as a little boy. Too much sometimes, if you ask me,” she quipped.

Yeah, you knew what she meant. The supe you knew would go on for hours about his not-so-glamorous stories of the important parties he’d attended and the more important celebrities he’d fucked. And you’d sit there, slowly dying inside, wishing he had the ability to contract laryngitis.

But the current version of him seemed more muted. Sometimes, you’d gotten glimpses of the bragging, the fuckboi attitude, and the spoiled brat who couldn’t accept no for an answer. Last night, though, he’d been more honest than you’d ever seen him.

“Does he always talk a lot?” you asked, your fingers playing with a piece of bacon.

Florence sighed softly, wiping her hands on her apron. “Back when he was a boy, he could never stop talking. Always asking questions, always trying to be the best at everything. It’s a little different now. More weight on his shoulders,” she explained. “Mr. Brooks, well... he’s always had big plans for Benjamin. Too big, in my opinion.”

You only nodded in quiet understanding. The whole house was screaming it; she didn’t have to say more.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Florence asked after a beat, watching you with a curious eye.

Of course the focus would fall back on you eventually. Here, you were the odd one.

You set your fork down and met her gaze with a smile. “You could say that, yeah.”

She didn’t fully reciprocate your smile, though, her expression turning thoughtful. “Benjamin used to bring strays home all the time. Cats, dogs, even little birds,” she said, and you didn’t like where this conversation was headed. “Poor things, starving or hurt, and he’d nurse them back to health. Always said it was his way of helping,” she continued, chuckling softly under her breath. “I guess he thought he could save the world with kindness. That was before he started... well, before his father started making sure he knew what was… right.”

“What do you mean?” The creases of your brow deepened, the eerie feeling in the pit of your stomach increasing.

“Here, take my coat. You poor thing must be freezing. Look at you, you’re shaking.”

Her hands stilled mid-wipe on the countertop. “One day, Benjamin brought home a small dog. Old, injured… it could hardly walk. His father... he made him kill it.” She looked at you then, her eyes sharp. “To teach him a lesson. About weakness. He said a man can’t be soft. That weakness could bring the whole family down. Benjamin never brought a stray home again after that.”

Until you.

That was her underlying message. Florence was giving you a warning. Suddenly, you weren’t all that hungry anymore. You’d swallowed enough for one morning.

Florence’s eyes softened as if she could sense your unease. She lowered her voice, leaning in closer as she wiped down the oak table in front of you. “Listen, miss, I don’t know what’s going on here, but you’d better leave before his father comes back.” Her tone was stern – protective. Apparently, one person in this house was looking out for Ben after all. It was just someone you hadn’t expected. “He’s a good boy, but his father’s a hard man. When he returns, all this–,” her eyes pierced into you, “–won’t be tolerated. Benjamin’s already been walking a tightrope with him. I don’t want you to be another problem for him.”

Her words hit you harder than expected. You nodded slowly, a cold shiver running down your spine as you realized just how precarious your situation really was. You weren’t here just because of a little time-traveling mishap. You were a complication – an inconvenience to the best-laid plans. She had seen what happened when Ben’s father decided that someone didn’t belong. And right now, you were the one who didn’t belong.

“I’ve told you what I can. Just-... don’t stay too long, miss. For your sake, and his.”

The mansion felt different in the afternoon – quieter, almost as if it were suspending its breath in anticipation for its owners to arrive. The morning, on the other hand, had been filled with staff scurrying around.

There was George, the groundskeeper and repairmen, who’d spent an hour switching broken lightbulbs in the endless corridors. You followed him to his work shed out back, finding a gigantic garden clad in winter magic as you chatted vividly with the sweet, older man. Soon, you started to freeze, though Ben had left his wool coat behind for you with a handwritten note, which was handed to you by Florence.

In case you go outside to look for an escape route…

Which brought you to your third encounter this morning – Ray, the chauffeur. He’d sought you out after breakfast with another message from his boss to you: “Mr. Benjamin wanted me to tell you that you’re allowed to use me for any getaway plans you may have.”

So, the younger version of Soldier Boy actually had a sense of humor. Who knew?

But even as you drifted aimlessly through the mansion, exploring one giant and overwhelming room after the next, your mind couldn’t free itself from the haunting conversation with Florence. You wouldn’t have cared if you caused trouble for Soldier Boy, but for some reason, you didn’t want Ben to suffer more.

Sure, his 80-years-older counterpart was the devil reincarnated, but this version of him had treated you only with kindness, the two sides of the same coin sometimes hard to reconcile.

Your sympathy, however, wavered slightly when you met the last two members of the staff – the maids, Frances and Dottie. Frances was the older one, probably in her forties, and didn’t pay much attention to you, going about her chores. Dottie, a girl in her early twenties, on the other hand, sent you a subtle glare every time you passed her in a hallway. If looks could kill, you would’ve been dead by noon.

As her narrowed eyes particularly stared at your choice of outfit, Ben’s shirt, you quickly sensed why she might not like you.

The man really was a fucking dog.

When Florence moved to do laundry, you offered to help, but she quickly shooed you away, more or less telling you to stop getting her into trouble. So, you kept cautiously wandering around like the ghosts that haunted this home. You took in all the portraits of solemn men in expensive suits, the velvet drapes, the old-world furniture that shone with polish and pride. Spying a beautiful grand piano in the living room tempted you to tickle its ivories, but you didn’t know if it was allowed or even welcomed.

At this point, you certainly didn’t want to cause more trouble.

You ambled down another hallway, and just as you rounded the corner, the front door swung open, and Ben stepped inside.

“Are you always this curious?” he asked with a grin, leaving coat, hat, and scarf with Florence, who had hurried to his side as soon as she heard him come home.

Again, it explained so much about the future version of him. You had almost rolled your eyes but tried to remind yourself it really wasn’t his fault that everyone catered to his needs. This whole house and life was designed to turn him into a spoiled, careless man-child, taught to eat his feelings.

And as you observed Florence’s devotion to him, you suddenly saw the pattern as clear as day and knew you could never, ever unsee it afterward. His future counterpart had certainly shown a… preference in older housekeepers and maids – sexually.

You stiffened a bit, feeling like you were just caught red-handed in his diary – or his underwear drawer. “I… well, I was just exploring. It’s a… big house,” you deflected from your disturbing thoughts.

His tongue licked over his bottom lip as he nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes feels like it can swallow you whole.” He paused, probably realizing he let too much slip. “You find anything interesting?”

You gave an innocent shake of your head. “Not really. A lot of portraits of your ancestors, and some... old furniture.”

“Ah, yeah, there’s a lot of that.” He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm. But when you met his eyes, you found more pain than anything else. “My father loves his legacy. It’s like living inside a museum sometimes.” He gave a shrug of his broad shoulders that was supposed to convince you he wasn’t bothered by that fact.

It failed, though. You hadn’t been able to pinpoint it until he said it, but walking through the mansion felt like taking a stroll through the Natural History Museum.

“So, uhm, how was your day?” you asked and would’ve loved to add a sarcastic honey. But again, it wasn’t his fault this time period was still domesticating women.

“Good. The usual, I guess,” he said casually, but you could tell by the small smile grazing his lips that he was happy you’d asked. “How was yours, sweetheart? Aside from exploring and scheming an escape plan?”

You giggled softly and gave him a smile that was almost shy. “Good so far. I had a lovely breakfast with Florence in the kitchen.”

Ben’s brow raised in surprise, but his smile hadn’t faded entirely. “You ate with the housekeeper in the kitchen?”

“Yeah.” You gave a nod before your brow puckered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get her into trouble. She-… she isn’t, right?”

“Wha-… No, no, not at all,” Ben assured you, chuckling. “I just-… well, I’ve lived here for a little over twenty years, and I’ve never had breakfast before in the kitchen.”

“Huh, well, you should try it sometime. It’s fun.” You gave him a shrug, grinning.

“I’ll think about it,” he said and cocked a brow, his eyes dragging over your frame – the shirt of his you wore – with that little leer of his. “Do you always do what’s fun, sweetheart?”

The chime of the doorbell came as a welcome interruption and made both your heads turn toward the sound.

Saved by the bell. Your heart still thundered the storm of the century in your chest as Florence hurried to the front door once more. You had almost wanted him to step closer. You’d never experienced that feeling before with him.

“The seamstress is here, miss,” Florence said, swiftly ushering you toward another hallway. “Right this way.”

Fuck. You’d completely forgotten about that. You knew you needed some kind of period-appropriate attire. But why couldn’t he just take you to the 1942 equivalent of a V&M or Vara? You weren’t in the mood to entertain any makeover shenanigans.

“See you in a bit,” Ben said and fled down the opposite direction.

“Whoa! Hey! Where are you going? You said you weren’t going to leave me alone for this,” you said, your voice disturbingly close to a whine.

Ben must’ve sensed the panic blinking like an evacuation alarm in your eyes because he actually took a few steps closer to you again. “Five minutes, alright? Just have to take this to the study.” He gestured to a briefcase in his hand. “I’ll be right with you, sweetheart.”

Giving a hesitant nod, you couldn’t understand your own feelings. A big part of you hated to have him near you, hated talking to him, and hated to accept his help. Why him, of all the people on this planet? But there was another part of you that desperately sought the comfort his familiarity offered in an unfamiliar place.

Florence led you to the drawing room – a space specifically designed for entertaining guests. In your childhood, a burning trash can in the trailer park had served as your entertainment space for guests. In New York, it was your pull-up couch/bed. But sure, why not add an extra room if you’re shitting money?

The moment you stepped into the room where the tailor was waiting, your own personal nightmare unfolded in front of you as you were greeted by a flurry of fabric and an energetic woman in her forties, with short, stylishly curled hair and glasses perched on her nose. She was perpetually in motion, constantly fidgeting, muttering to herself as she laid out fabric swatches with dramatic flair. Her hands fluttered in the air like a conductor preparing for a grand symphony.

She straightened up when she saw you, eyes lighting up with immediate interest. “Ah, so you’re the one Benjamin’s been telling me about!” Her voice was brisk but warm, and she wasted no time in circling you like a hawk. Her eyes twinkled behind her glasses, scanning you from head to toe with exaggerated precision, as though the idea of fitting you for a dress was as exciting as solving a puzzle. “We’re going to make you absolutely stunning, darling. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

You hesitated at the doorway, giving her a tentative smile. “I’m really not sure about all of this. I’m not exactly–”

She waved her hand dismissively, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Not exactly what, my dear? Feminine? Pish posh. All women are feminine. It’s simply a matter of presentation.” She paused to give you another once-over, her eyes practically sparkling as she stepped closer, her hands bunching and tucking Ben’s loose shirt in various ways around your body. Were tailors always this handsy? “You have the shape, the frame. We’ll just need to... refine it.” She grinned, showing an alarming amount of enthusiasm for fabric and needles. “You’ll look fantastic in no time. You’ll be the talk of every high society ball, I assure you.”

“Huh? What now?” You blinked, unsure if you should laugh or run away. Did Effie Trinket just mention the word ball? You did not like the sound of that.

You shot a glance toward the door upon hearing a quiet creak, and Ben stepped inside, the faintest grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he took in the scene. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and your eyes locked with his, silently asking him for a goddamn rescue. But instead, he looked entertained, maybe even a little pleased, which was infuriating, to say the least.

“You okay in here?” Ben asked, voice tinged with amusement as his green eyes darted between you and the seamstress.

“Uh-huh.” You nodded rather unsurely, your nerves ticking like a bomb inside of you. “Feeling like a tribute in the Hunger Games…” you muttered under your breath, aware your audience wouldn’t understand a pop culture reference from the 21st century. At least, the knowledge that Hughie and Annie would have laughed soothed your anxiety slightly.

The tailor, as if summoned by Ben’s voice, immediately sprang to action, striding toward him with a look of sheer joy. “Ah, Benjamin! What perfect timing! We’re just about to turn your lovely guest into a proper lady. You’ve done well bringing her here.” She beamed, patting Ben on the arm like a proud parent. “Wherever did you find this girl?”

“Uh… On the street.” Ben smirked, cleverly disguising the truth as a joke.

The seamstress threw him a pointed look at his antics, shaking her head. “Always a joker, this boy… However do you put up with him?”

“Oh, I have no idea.” You grinned, your eyes flickering mischievously to Ben. “It’s exhausting!”

Ben’s brow knitted, but to your surprise, he was more amused than anything else with your response.

“Oh, your mother will be so pleased when she comes back,” the tailor tells him wistfully before turning her attention back to you. “She always wanted a daughter to show off at tea parties. She’ll have you parading around Philadelphia’s finest circles in no time.”

Tea parties? Balls? Fuck no! Not to mention you wanted to be long gone before his parents got back, Florence’s warning still all too fresh in your mind.

Panicked, you blinked at Ben, while the tailor already swung a measuring tape around you like a ribbon.

“Uh, Ms. Vivian, my guest won’t be here anymore when my mother returns,” Ben informed her, approaching you as you stood in the middle of the room like a statue in an art gallery. “So, maybe we tone it down a little with the tea parties and the ball gowns.” He then looked at you, his eyes reassuring and encouraging. “Just tell her what you want, sweetheart. I told you – I got you.” He winked.

Your cheeks involuntarily blushed. Honestly, that little gesture might have been the nicest fucking thing he’d ever done for you.

With newfound confidence, you faced the seamstress. “Uh, maybe we could find something simple and casual? Maybe a little flowy?”

“Flowy? What, like a farmhand?” The tailor’s brow furrowed wildly as if you’d just offended her, clasping a palm to her chest. She sighed so loudly you almost felt like you had just shattered her entire lifelong dreams.

Ben snorted, and you couldn’t help but break into little giggles too, both your amusement flying right over the seamstress’ head.

“What about the cream one?” You pointed at a soft flowing dress on the rack, which looked perfectly fine to get around without suffocating.

“Oh, darling, no!” The tailor shook her head vigorously, but Ben sent her a stern look.

“Ms. Vivian…” His voice was calm but warning.

“Alright, fine.” She rolled her eyes exhaustively and put the dress aside before finding another one as well. She held it up to your face like it was a magic curtain. “What about this? Maybe a soft, ladylike lavender or perhaps a daring crimson to match the boldness I see in your eyes? That color would work wonders for your complexion, too!”

“Oh, uh, let’s steer clear of the crimson,” you told her, clearing your throat – not that Ben would actually catch why that made you uncomfortable.

“It seems like ‘no’ is your favorite word,” Ms. Vivian tutted in her frustration.

Ben laughed slightly at the comment. “Oh, she’s a hard one to win over,” he quipped, but his eyes never left you. There was a soft hint of a smile playing on his lips that you could almost confuse for affection.

Were you going fucking crazy?

The seamstress paused, considering the two of you, and then smiled in a way that felt a little too knowing. “Well, I suppose we could compromise. A sophisticated look, not too dramatic, but refined and elegant. The perfect balance. And just a hint of mystery, of course.”

God, she was good. You had to give her that. She really knew what she was doing, although you hated the fact she could read you so easily.

As Ms. Vivian eagerly rolled out fabrics and draped silks and velvets around your shoulders like sacred relics, Ben snuck closer to you. His fingertips lingered on your wrist, brushing but not touching as if to reassure you he hadn’t forgotten the rules.

But his breath fanned against the shell of your ear, the hair in the back of your neck saluting him when he checked on you in a whisper, “You still holding up here okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine.” You laughed softly, barely able to hold his gaze. This whole situation was nerve-racking. “Just not used to being the center of attention like this.”

“Hmm, that’s hard to believe.” Ben gave you a little grin. “You’ll be fine. Maybe you’ll even enjoy it.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Enjoy being dressed up like a doll? You’re not helping, you know...”

Ben chuckled. “Maybe not. But I enjoy watching you try getting out of it. Besides, I think you’ll look stunning, no matter what you wear.”

Furiously burning heat crept to your cheeks at his flattery. Fuck, he was good when he wanted to be. You thought you could handle Soldier Boy like you’d done so many times before in the future without issue, but this was entirely different.

“Oh, we almost forgot the foundations!” The tailor’s voice luckily interrupted the moment and drew both your attention back to her.

Your brow quirked, accompanied by an anxious feeling in your gut. “Foundations?”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Yes, darling. The proper undergarments,” she clarified and searched for the appropriate item in her large, wooden treasure chest. “What about a nice corset?”

“Oh, fuck no!” You looked at the thing in her hands with terror.

To your surprise, Ms. Vivian uttered a loud gasp of horror as well. Ben, on the other hand, snorted in amusement behind your shoulder, and you turned to him with a confused expression.

“What?”

Before Ben could answer you, Ms. Vivian spoke first: “Young lady, mind your language!”

“Oh.” Your brow raised in realization. “Shit. I’m sorry. I mean crap! No, dammit! Am I allowed to say ‘crap’?”

A louder, more forceful laugh escaped Ben then, and you could see the glassy veil of tears over his eyes. He bit his lips hard, trying to regain his composure when Ms. Vivian was scolding both of you with a stern look.

“Benjamin, you better get Mrs. Helen to work with her before you take her out,” the seamstress said, but it was more than a mere suggestion. Her eyes were practically pleading him.

“Who’s Mrs. Helen?” you asked your host in a whisper-tone.

“She’s an etiquette coach,” Ben informed you, his amused smile still unwavering.

Your brow furrowed. “What, so I know which fork to stabbeth myself with while some pompous dick is going on and on about his yacht and the stock market?”

Ben chuckled violently behind his palm, but Ms. Vivian was less than amused and quirked a high eyebrow.

“Young lady, you better mind your manners,” she chided. “You may not find a man this way. Men don’t appreciate sailor talk. You’re in company of a gentleman here.”

“Who? Him?!” With a severely wrinkled brow, you thumbed over your shoulder at your host.

Oh, that is hilarious…

“Alright, if a corset is out of question, then we at least need to get you a proper brassiere,” Ms. Vivian continued her quest to dress you appropriately.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I’m good on that front,” you said.

The seamstress threw you a raised look, lowering her glasses on her nose for dramatic effect. “If you think I’ll let you walk out of here without the proper undergarments, you better think again,” she told you firmly.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Ben quipped, grinning cheekily.

“Merde…” You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Fine, gimme a bra.”

Ms. Vivian foraged through her magical treasure chest again, shaking her head. “You know, I understand French, too, young lady.”

Fuck me, you thought since you couldn’t say it out loud.

“You speak French?” Ben tossed you a curious glance.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fluent, actually,” you replied and watched his brow hike up in surprise.

“Well, I’m glad not all hope is lost,” Ms. Vivian chimed in. “French is very popular for girls your age.”

“You learned it in school?” Ben asked, and you could tell he was using this opportunity to pry more information out of you, but this time, you figured it couldn’t hurt.

“Uh, self-taught, actually,” you answered. Living in the French part of Canada for a couple of years, you’d certainly picked up a thing or two. “I’m also good with Latin and Greek. History, science, math…”

“Math?” Ben questioned, a trace of surprised intrigue flashing in his green eyes.

“Yeah, math,” you confirmed, smirking. “What subjects were you good at in school?”

Ms. Vivian snorted loudly at your question, Ben sending her a little glare at that. You knew why, remembering how he had flunked boarding school. And Soldier Boy would’ve probably pulverized the seamstress right this second for making fun of him, but Ben was a lot less hot-tempered.

“Uh, little bit of everything, I guess,” he replied vaguely at first, still trying to impress you. But then he wet his lips in thought. “To be honest, I wasn’t really paying a lot of attention to my classes.”

The sudden honesty surprised you, and you rewarded it with a kind smile. You gave a quick shrug of your shoulders. “School’s overrated, anyways. Most of the stuff you need for life, you learn on the go.”

Ben’s lips curved into a smile. “Like French?”

“Like French.” You nodded, grinning.

“You know, playing an instrument is very desirable as well for girls,” Ms. Vivian added. “It lets potential suitors know you’re refined and cultured.”

So, they know I can play their flute? 

You bit back your comment, not knowing if Ms. Vivian wasn’t hiding a muzzle for you in her treasure chest as well.

“Well, I play the piano,” you offered instead. Truly, you didn’t try to impress Ben but the judgmental tailor. You hoped if she thought you had at least a little bit of a well-bred pedigree, she’d stay clear of the feathered hats you spied in the corner of your eye.

“Oh, that is wonderful!” Ms. Vivian clapped her hands in delight, making you quite proud of your achievement.

One point for the trailer park bitch!

“You know, we have a piano right there,” Ben said, gesturing to the corner where the beautiful grand piano stood that you’d admired earlier that day.

“Oh, I know. I wasn’t even sure I was allowed to touch it,” you said, giggling. “Seems a little too grand for my skills.”

“No, go ahead, sweetheart. It hasn’t been played in a while. I’m sure it’d appreciate the treatment,” Ben encouraged you with soft smile, the affectionate gleam reappearing in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s too bad your mother won’t be here to see this!” Ms. Vivian tragically sighed. “She would’ve loved it! She was a wonderful player herself, always entertaining the guests at parties.”

“Was?” You looked at Ben, but he averted his gaze to the floor, never quite meeting your eyes.

You couldn’t remember if Soldier Boy had ever mentioned his mother. You’d heard plenty about his father, but his mother seemed more like an elusive mirage, swallowed by the exorbitant daddy issues that haunted him.

“She-, uh, she hasn’t really played in recent years,” Ben gave as a polite explanation but didn’t offer anything more.

“Oh, too bad,” you replied and sent him a small smile. “I’m sure she was great.”

“Alright, Benjamin,” the tailor interrupted you two, “This next part of the process is not meant for your eyes, so you better leave.”

“What? Why?” You sure as hell didn’t want to be left alone with the eccentric seamstress. God knows what else she could force you into. You were sure there were a lot worse things than a corset in that trunk of horror.

“Because you have to undress, darling, so I can see what fits and make the appropriate adjustments,” Ms. Vivian told you.

“Oh, I don’t mind staying.” Ben smirked puckishly.

“Benjamin Percival Brooks! Where are your manners, young man?” The tailor flashed him a look full of authority, her voice firm and commanding.

“Percival?” you mouthed at Ben, slowly erupting into a laugh. His cheeks flushed so red you could’ve confused them for Mars.

“I know your mother raised you better than that,” she chastised. “Go on! Shoo!”

You chuckled a little at the face he drew upon her order. Man, you should remember that trick in the future. You were kind of jealous of Ms. Vivian’s skills.

“You’re gonna be alright on your own?” Ben still checked, even when the seamstress was impatiently tapping her heel, waiting for him to leave you to your transformation.

“I suppose,” you replied, amused when the tailor already eyed you with a measuring tape.

“I’ll be in the study if you need me,” Ben said and threw you a wink. “Try not to melt under all the glamour.”

As the evening arrived in the mansion, the grand windows that lined the tall walls dimmed with the fading sunlight. You had spent the last few hours adjusting to your new wardrobe before settling on a dress that made you the most amount of comfortable – which wasn’t a lot, to begin with.

Your choice had landed on a long-sleeved, navy blue dress with the hint of a v-neck that was tied with a pretty bow. Alright, you did like the bow. A lot. This was probably the girliest outfit you had ever worn. It for sure was a far cry from your Zeppelin t-shirt and ripped jeans, but at least you blended into your environment and didn’t stick out of the crowd like a sore thumb.

You also put on the vibrant red beret you had to fight Ms. Vivian for since it wasn’t “in fashion this season.” However, it made you feel very sophisticated and French, like you possessed a certain je ne sais quoi.

Alright, maybe you’d been daydreaming a little too much today. But one thing you’d learned during your epic adventures: Always commit to the bit.

Which meant fully diving into everything this period had to offer. You were stuck here, and you couldn’t get hunted down by an angry mob again, so you sucked it up like a big girl and channeled your inner Betty Draper.

Making your way downstairs, you passed Dottie, whose mouth dropped slightly when she saw you in your new outfit. If you thought Ben’s shirt made her hate you, that dress surely made her want to kill you now.

But Dottie, Grace, Betty, and Sheila all served as good reminders of why you had to heed caution with your charming host. You knew who he was in his essence. You couldn’t let yourself get blended by the pretty wrapping paper.

The door to his father’s study stood ajar, Ben sitting at the large oak desk as you carefully peeked your head inside and halted in the doorway. He was hunched over documents in concentration, scribbling something on paper with murmuring lips and a tensely knitted brow.

You took a deep breath and stepped inside, and the moment his eyes lifted and found you, he froze, the pen in his hand faltering midair. His gaze swept over you, not just disbelief but hunger creeping into the lush, green moss of his eyes.

Well, this was even worse than the Zeppelin shirt, the towel, or his clothes. You hadn’t expected the dress to be so noticeable. Maybe you should’ve gone with the pastel green one that made you look like a minted cupcake?

Ben’s mouth parted, but no words came out at first. He blinked, slowly, as if trying to make sense of what he was seeing. “You look, uhm…” he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

Uh-oh…

“Weird, right?” you offered in an attempt to deflect.

Ben snorted a chuckle then, breaking out a bit of his stupor. “Uh, that wouldn’t have been the exact adjective I would’ve used.” The laughing crinkles around his eyes then softened to something warmer, the heat of his lingering stare rushing straight into your veins. “You look… I guess ‘breathtaking’ is the right word for it.”

Yup, that melted your heart right down to your core.

You shifted awkwardly on your feet, unsure of how to respond. Then, you noticed a smile sneaking onto his lips when his gaze followed you down to your choice of footwear – you were wearing your same old pair of Chucks.

“Did Ms. Vivian forget the bottom layer?” he teased with an entertained smirk.

“Uh, no, she gave me plenty of choices. Not quite ready yet for that yet, I guess.” You blushed slightly. The truth was, your shoes still gave you a sense of familiarity and home that you wanted to hold onto. You could feel your own time beginning to slip your mind, little fragments starting to go missing from your memory. “She’d probably faint if she saw me like this.”

Ben grinned. “You’re tempting me to call her back just to see it.”

“Oh, too bad you haven’t seen her when I asked her if she had some pants for me, too. She almost collapsed like the London Bridge right then,” you quipped.

“Well, leave it to you to make me jealous I missed one of Ms. Vivian’s fashion shows,” replied Ben, giving you his signature smirk. “I was about to have dinner and was hoping you’d join me. I-, uh, I have a little surprise prepared for you.”

“Oh, uh, you know, that’s not really necessary. You don’t have to give me anything… or more, I guess,” you stammered, shaking your head, pupils flickering. “Letting me stay here, the clothes… It’s enough, okay? It’s more than I could’ve asked for, really. Thank you so much. You really don’t have to do any of that, you know?”

And you strangely meant every word. You were overwhelmingly thankful. Had that been his goal all along? Shit. Was it real it or was he playing you? The grin itching on his lips didn’t help you detangle the mêlée in your mind either.

“Is that a yes or no to dinner?” Ben formed a teasing smile.

“Uh… yes?” You were kind of hungry, not having eaten anything since Florence stuffed you full of crumpets during afternoon tea.

“Alright.” Ben nodded, clearly pleased. “Just, uh, give me a minute to finish this up.”

“Sure. Take your time,” you said and ambled through the study, your gaze drawing you to a row of framed photographs resting on the mantle.

One was a family portrait with Ben, no older than probably five, standing in the middle with two figures behind him – his parents. It was almost haunting seeing a childhood picture of that man, like seeing a teacher outside of school, buying groceries. It reminded you that underneath the emerald suit and the callousness was still a real, living and breathing person.

The contrast between his parents, however, was striking. His father stood tall and imposing, with sharp features and an air of authority that practically leapt off the picture. He didn’t share a lot of resemblance with his son, but weirdly, you could see some similarities between Ben’s father and his future offspring, making you wonder if Soldier Boy ever took note of those attributes as well.

Ben’s mother, on the other hand, was beautiful, her soft features highlighted by a gentle smile. Her eyes were kind, her posture relaxed, and she seemed almost ethereal compared to the rigid formality of her husband.

“Ah, my parents…” Ben’s deep voice ripped you from your thoughts. It was accompanied by a quiet chuckle, as though he didn’t particularly enjoy discussing that topic. He rose from the desk and sauntered closer to you, soon feeling his warmth radiating behind your back. “You see the resemblance?”

You glanced up at him, noting the subtle line of tension between his brows. There was something in his voice that betrayed the casual indifference he wanted to communicate.

“Yeah, you look a lot like your mom,” you remarked, studying the photograph a little closer. “You have her eyes and smile.”

Ben’s expression faltered for a split second with a flicker of something close to disappointment. His lips pressed together, averting his eyes down to the floor. “I suppose that’s true,” he replied with hesitancy. “Honestly, I’d rather prefer looking like my father. I’m not quite the man he is.”

You paused for a moment, your stupid hand itching to reach out to him in comfort. One thing was for sure, though: It was hard to see anything resembling Soldier Boy in the young man in front of you.

Yes, there was the occasional arrogance and bragging and even the insecurities. But you didn’t think this was an act or a game he was playing with you. Vulnerable honesty didn’t really fit his ammo when it came to wooing women. He was too proud in his virility for that.

So, you supposed you were just strange enough of a stranger to confide in. He couldn’t tell it to anyone else because – the girls he’d bedded, the staff in this house – they’d probably gossip, and he couldn’t risk that, could he? Not with a father like that. You, however, didn’t know a soul here. You were nobody. You were safe. You could keep his secrets.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think you got lucky,” you said, a teasing smile playing on your lips. You giggled when his brows shot up. “Your mom’s a lot prettier than your dad. I’d be grateful if I were you.”

Ben huffed a chuckle of disbelief, shaking his head. A grin formed and widened on his freckled, clean-shaven face. “You think I’m handsome?”

“I believe I said pretty,” you teased.

Ben clicked his tongue, lips curling to fight a smile.

Your face softened, deciding to probe further. “What’s she like? Your mother?”

He licked his lips for a moment, surely considering if he wanted to answer your question. “Well, uhm, when I was younger, she was warm. Sweet,” he said slowly, trying to retrieve the memory from someplace distant. “She was everything you could want in a mother, you know? I-, uh, I felt like I could tell her anything, and she-… she’d understand.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly, your hands itching again, only held back by a sliver of self-control.

“I guess my father did,” Ben said as if he’d only just realized that fact himself. “I don’t know exactly what happened. I first noticed it when I was teenager. She just stopped being the person I remembered. She became more distant. Cold. She’s mostly just a ghost here. I think she just gave up fighting him, so she played the role of his wife, but not the one of my mother anymore.”

You had no fucking clue what to say to that. The hurt in his voice was raw, and you knew you were intruding on something personal he wasn’t used to sharing. You’d just opened a big can of worms in Soldier Boy’s past, and you had not the faintest idea how to get those slimy, little strings back inside.

Your eyes drifted back to the photograph. She seemed like a good mother in that picture, how she protectively rested a palm on her son’s shoulder. But you also noticed the contrast between the warmth of his mother’s smile and the cold, steely expression of his father. It was as if Ben’s mother had faded into the background, a supporting character in a life that had never really been her own. A fate, you’re sure, that befell many women of this time.

“You think she’s still in there somewhere? The woman you knew?”

Ben was silent for a beat, his gaze fixed on the photograph as he thought about it. “I don’t know,” he said. “I used to think so. Now, I’m not so sure. The more time passed, the more she became… him.”

Well, you hoped Mr. Brooks Sr. would enjoy the bubonic plague as much as your parents did once you got your powers back. It was the least you could do. Maybe then, you and Ben could call it even in the future and go back to your normal routine of hating each other.

It surely sounded less frightening than whatever this weird, blooming thing between you was right now that spread like a nasty STD.

“I’m sorry,” you said, not knowing what else to offer. You still didn’t reach out to him. You were already playing with matches. You didn’t need to throw them into gasoline.

Ben gave a tight smile, trying to overplay his vulnerability. But you could see beneath all the bravado and arrogance. He was just a son who’d never felt like he was enough. Not to his father. Not to his mother.

Worst of all, you could relate.

He chuckled bitterly. “It’s alright. I’ve learned to live with it. You can’t choose your parents.”

“That’s true.” You gave a slight nod of agreement. “Mine were fucking assholes from the start.”

You hadn’t planned on sharing something personal with him, but it felt like the least amount of comfort and understanding you could offer him.

Ben’s brow twitched with surprise, a smile of amusement flashing across his lips, probably because of your use of sailor talk again. Honestly, though, how fucking ironic was that? You hadn’t even sworn a lot your whole life, but spending a year with Butcher and Soldier Boy in particular did a number on you.

“What-, uhm, what were they like… or are? Are they still alive?”

“No, dead. Probably,” you replied flatly. “And they were, uhm… selfish, unkind, elusive. Dumb like a bag of bricks, too.” Upon Ben’s blinking eyes, you uttered a half-hearted “sorry.”

“No, uh–“ Ben shook his head a little, as if to organize his thoughts. “So, that story about your father teaching you–“

“Bullshit, I guess,” you admitted, smirking a little.

“So, all that stuff you know–“

“I taught myself,” you confirmed with a proud smile, standing a little straighter. “I didn’t tell you because I thought you couldn’t deal with a woman being smarter than you.”

Ben’s lips hitched a smile that he tried to bite back. “I guess we’ll see,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “I’m glad you asked about her,” he added quietly, his look touching something within your soul. “Not many people do.”

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “I’m sure your mom’s proud of you. Even if she doesn’t show it.”

And then, the air shifted. You could feel it all around you, settling on your skin in a veil of delicate blossoms, rising in response to whispers of electricity. They danced across the surface, each little peak a shiver of anticipation. Your heart drummed louder, faster, till it drowned out all the other noise. There was just you and him at that moment in time.

You’d held eye contact for too long, the silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. It was addicting.

Your gaze briefly fell to his plush, pink lips, immediately cursing yourself for the action. He took note of it, his own eyes landing on your unoccupied, open palm by your side. And in the short second he paused and gathered courage to move forward with his intentions, you retreated half a step and exhaled a sharp breath.

“Uh, food?” Your voice broke the spell on both of you, Ben blinking out of his momentary daze. “I’m kinda hungry.”

“Oh, uhm, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Sounds good. Shall we?”

Ben offered you his arm, and for a fleeting second, you considered declining. But there was something in the way he looked at you, faint crinkles around his crispy apple green eyes from a kind smile that pressured you to cave. So, you placed your hand lightly on his arm, and together you strolled down the hall toward the dining room.

“Is it just the two of us in the dining room?” you asked with a lump lodged in the back of your throat. Your heart was pounding while you held onto him. The soft scent of his cologne reached your nose, notes of citrus, mint, and wood making your head spin.

Ben chuckled a little. “Yeah, it’s just the two of us. Unless you want to invite Florence again.”

“Oh, can we?” As you glanced up at him, you saw the subtle smirk on his lips. “Oh, you were joking…”

Ben laughed deeply. “I was, but hey, if you want to–“

“No, no, it’s fine.” You shook your head, trying to calm your jittering nerves.

As you entered the dining room, you were immediately struck by how large it was, the long table that easily fit a group of thirty stretching in front of you, lit by flickering candles. It was as grand as the rest of the house, but tonight it felt oddly intimate – just the two of you, and no one else.

Ben pulled out a chair for you, his movements graceful and old-fashioned. When you sat, he took the seat opposite you, and Florence hurried to set two plates of deliciously smelling meatloaf in front of you. Luckily, there was only one fork.

“So, what adventures were you up to today, sweetheart?” Ben asked, falling into the polite dinner conversation small talk. You were sure it was trained into him.

“Oh, uh, well, after breakfast, I spent some time with George in his shed. He’s got some cool stuff out there,” you said nonchalantly, only then noticing Ben’s look of amusement again.

“You spent time with George in his shed?”

“Is that not allowed?”

Ben tilted his head at you. “Why do you keep asking me that? I told you to make yourself at home. You can do what you want here.”

“No, I know,” you said, licking your lips as your chat with Florence crept along the edges of your mind. “I guess I just wanna make sure I’m not overstepping any lines here. Kinda like when you’re in a museum, and you’re not allowed to touch anything.”

Ben’s lips grew a smirk as he met your eyes. “Well, you’re allowed to touch anything you want in here, sweetheart.”

Oh no… You’d set yourself right up for that one, hadn’t you?

“So, out of curiosity, did you sleep with Dottie?”

Ben choked on the sip of red wine in his mouth, a few tiny drops staining his pristine white dress shirt. You’re sure neither Florence nor Ms. Vivian would be pleased with that – but you were.

“Hm? What?” He blinked at you like a deer in headlights, clearing the rest of the wine from his throat. “Why? Did she say something to you?”

“Might as well have answered that one with a resounding yes,” you teased and snickered into your glass of wine.

Ben frowned slightly. “You know, if she’s making you uncomfortable, I can fire her.”

Now, you frowned, eyes wide. “What?! No! Don’t do that. That’s such a dick move.”

“A dick move?” Both amusement and confusion flashed on Ben’s face.

Right… People probably didn’t say that yet. You also remembered the concepts of sexual harassment at the workplace and retaliatory discharge were still futuristic dreams, too.

“Well, you know, it’s kinda your fault. Suck it up,” you told him. “You’re her employer. You can’t just discard her because she makes you uncomfortable after you did… whatever you did to her.”

Ben was a little stunned by your bluntness. “Technically, my father is her employer,” he argued and then smugly added, “And I can guarantee you she also very much enjoyed whatever I did to her, by the way.”

Ew, gross!

“You just offered to fire her. I’m pretty sure you qualify,” you countered, not even touching the other comment with a ten-foot pole.

Ben pursed his lips for a moment, then gave a nod. “Guess I’ll suck it up then.”

You rewarded him with a wry smile. “There you go.”

“You know, that was just a one-time thing at some party my father threw. Months ago… Didn’t mean anything,” Ben added, shoving food around on his plate with his fork.

“To you, maybe,” you said and looked at him, waiting for another excuse.

But there came none. He just sipped his wine and dove back into his food.

Good. That would at least keep him from hitting on you for the next hour.

And it did – Ben and you had a pleasant dinner and stuck to small talk. You slowly began to relax, even though the tension between you two was still simmering underneath.

“You always eat dinner here alone?” you asked when Florence cleared the empty plate in front of you. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a home-cooked meal that didn’t come out of a box or a can.

One point for 1942.

“Usually, yes.” Ben shrugged. “Sometimes I go out with friends, have dinner in town.”

“Seems kind of lonely,” you noted.

“Can be. Seems a little less lonely tonight,” Ben replied, sending you a soft smile. “So, what was the house like that you grew up in?”

“Oh, uhm…” You weren’t sure if you should answer that one honestly but couldn’t find a good enough reason not to. “Well, it was a lot smaller.”

“How small?”

“About a quarter of this dining room,” you replied, slightly amused, and watched his brow crease in several directions as he tried to make sense of something like that.

“Huh.”

“We did have a sunroom, though,” you deadpanned with a sip of wine. “I mean, we just called it a window, but the thought was there.”

Ben snorted, soon fully laughing. He rubbed his lips with his fingers. “You ready for your surprise?”

“I told you. It’s not necessa–“

Before you could finish, your eyes flicked to Dottie in the doorway, holding a plate with a piece of cake and a burning candle stuck in it in her hands. The look on her face was devastating. Honestly, did this man possess no awareness at all?

It seemed like a cruel form of punishment for the girl. Fortunately, her grievances and anger weren’t geared toward you this time. The death stare fully landed on your oblivious host.

Dottie placed the plate in front you with a glare at Ben so biting you were surprised you couldn’t see teeth marks on his head yet. Both of you waited till Dottie had left the room again before you looked at him with a complacent smirk.

With a sigh, he rolled his eyes back. “Alright, I see it. Happy now?”

“As long as you’re aware,” you sang smugly.

“Stop gloating and blow out your candle,” he huffed, but a hint of playfulness swung in his voice. “I know I’m technically a day late for this, but I didn’t want you to miss out on cake. It’s the best part about birthdays.”

“Thank you.” You smiled and meant it. It was hard to deny that this was probably the sweetest thing he’d ever done for you. Uncharacteristically sweet and surely motivated by other nefarious reasons, but thoughtful nonetheless.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled warmly. “Which one is it, anyway?”

“Oh, uh… Twenty-… fourth,” you lied with some thoughtful reluctance. You knew if you’d told him your real age, there would’ve only been more questions about why you weren’t married and tamed yet.

“Older than me, huh?” Ben gave you a satisfied smile.

You bit your tongue hard at the irony and nodded, forcing a smile. Granny fucker.

“Well, happy birthday, sweetheart. Make a wish.”

And God, when that candle went out, you wished you’d be home soon.

▶️ Chapter 5: We'll Always Have Paris – APRIL 25

Lots to unpack in this one! Some major insights into Ben's childhood and a glimpse at his mother. What did you think about Ms. Vivian? Should we get Mrs. Helen involved to fix reader's sailor talk? How much will Ben pay her not to reveal his middle name to Hughie in the future? 😂

And I'm not warning for age gaps in this fic because with Soldier Boy, it's kind of ridiculous anyway, but yes, reader is seven years older than him in 1942, but 74 years younger in the future, so they're even? 🤷‍♀️🤣

Coming Up:

So, yes, maybe you liked him. Liked him more than you’d be ever willing to admit. But were you just supposed to ignore everything else? Everything you knew and everything that might come?

Were you a fool for thinking you could change destiny?

“Tell me one thing,” you said, interrupting the comfortable silence between you two. “What would make you happy? I mean really happy. Forget about all the money and your father and everything else. What’s your happy place?”

“Hmm,” Ben hummed, teeth chewing on the plush flesh of his lower lip. He found your eyes. “Tell me yours first.”

“Alright,” you accepted, knowing you’d pushed him enough for today, knowing you had to give, too. Knowing his vulnerability didn’t come without a price. You contemplated for a moment, exhaling a sigh. “I guess… Paris. I’d wanna live in Paris. Go roller skating in the Louvre at night. Boop Mona Lisa’s nose.”

Ben snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “Sounds a bit cockamamie.”

“Hey, you have your dreams, I have mine. And you’ll see. I’m gonna do it. I have more tricks up my sleeve than just math,” you retorted playfully, causing his smirk to deepen, but there was affection in every crease and crinkle on his face. “Before you mock, why don’t you just tell me yours, huh?”

🚀 Read up to 4 chapters ahead on Patreon now

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[space-blue]

Question because I’m lowkey curious, do you believe that Vander’s issues and mistakes are largely overlooked by fans because he’s the “good guy?” And while Silco does have a lot of fans, he also has a good amount of haters in the fandom and do you think that’s “unfair” (for lack of a better term)?

Hello Anon! What a good question, thank you for trusting me with it... although I don't think I can speak for the fandom as a whole, I can certainly tell you what rattles in my skull.

I think mostly the fandom at large is not interested in deep dive analysis, or even capable of it — which is not an insult, plenty of people enjoy shows and fandom content without ever engaging with film critical theory of any sort, or even make their own opinionated meta. Many fans are happy to just be fed theories by meta creators, or have a general perception and don't seek out contrary content.

And then, if you don't spend a lot of time decorticating Vander, Silco, Zaun, reading into the implication of single lines of dialogue later on, discussing the show with other people who might point out stuff you missed, etc. it's hard not to just be satisfied with "Vander is a genuine Good Guytm" because the show certainly is happy to let you get away thinking that.

Media at large condones a LOT of violence. Vander's use of lethal force, threat, and coasting on a killer's reputation is absolutely nothing in the eyes of some "good guy hero shit" we see being pulled by some people.

James Bond? John Wick? Fuck, look at Finn in Star Wars, who gleefully kills a ton of troopers without ever stopping to think—even after it was established they're all poor brainwashed orphans, his colleagues until very recently.

Finn has a higher on-camera body count than Vander does!

And Vander is mostly seen through his children's eyes, for whom he's become a true father figure.

On top of that, he's got those big fat centrist inertia energies about him. He's mister Status Quo. Gotta do nothing in either direction, wait until I got no choice, chose the lesser of two evils, etc.

That makes him feel very measured in a world that revolves around incredible political extremes. On a passive first watch, this may seem like the nice guy thing to do.

All this adds up.

On the other hand Silco LOOKS like a villain, talks like a villain, slow claps like an asshole, condones the killing of kids because they chose to get involved without any visible remorse...

Vander seems brighter next to Silco's shadows.

What baffles me is how people don't start doubting the narrative they're being presented when Silco has his PTSD attack when Vander clamps around his throat. It becomes pretty clear that Vander was once a monster, and his betrayal of Silco is what created, well, the "monster Silco" we meet in act I. [Alexa, play The Monster You Created]

They're both shades of grey, and one might have lightened while the other darkened. It's not even subtext. It's flat out said and shown. That's the point where I think tepid takes like "Silco had it coming" and "Vander was doing everyone a service by drowning him" are dropping the ball and being lazy with their "analysis".

I don't think it's unfair that Silco has haters. I love him for his ideals and goals, because he's a champion of the poor and destitute. He's taking the burden of committing extreme violence against an abusive government that will not yield any other way, and would kill him for it. He sacrifices his entire life to this work. But I also love him for being an asshole, and the sort of man who'll make a mountain of corpses to climb up to his goal. He's flawed and very human, defined by his trauma. He's as yummy as a poptart.

But if you're not into revolutionaries, if you think the ends never excuse the means, if you think him loving Jinx is still detrimental to her and her growing up in a shitty Zaun orphanage would still be better for her, or that #PiltoverDidNothingWrong, then yeah, Silco would have very few redeeming qualities lol

Between his extremism and his appearance, it's very easy to make his final encounter with Vander be very black and white. The show literally pulls the rug from under your feet on the Vander-Silco dichotomy minutes before the stabbing and choking! And you've projected along with the kids and seen Vander as a Good Dad for 3 episodes! Silco killing him while he's defending his one surviving child won't exactly help.

Overall I don't think fandom overlooks Vander's faults because he's painted as a good guy, but rather because fandom doesn't scratch at that paint too much. It's easier to dismiss the shades of grey, and you don't have to think about Vander much in act II or III.

Arcane as a show is also a rather depressing, despite how pretty it looks, so I can see how appealing it would be to cling to any "nice" character. They're few and far between.

I mean, there's literally not a SINGLE named and voiced character who can't be made out to be some shade of asshole, outside of like, Sky (and maybe Thieram)!

But yeah, I'm generally not bothered. I think we'll see a ton more takes on Vander when he shows up as a cursed furry serial killer and potentially breaks Vi's heart and whatever is left of Jinx's sanity. I'm looking forward to *that*.

There are lots of valid good takes for Vander, portraying him in varying shades of grey. I think another reason we don't see a lot of stuff outside Good Guy tm is that he's so "minor" compared to the other main characters, and not exactly involved in any popular ship. (No shade of my fellow Vanco lovers, we're still well into rarepair territory)

So yeah. Waiting on the furry army in season 2 to get started on the real hot Vander discourse ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter Ten: Full Frontal -Katsu reports the latest assassination attempt to Shingen, but it would be easier if he were wearing clothing

Shingen x OC; Kenshin x MC (Mai)

Previous Chapter: here

Logline - Disguised as a boy, Katsuko finds herself working for Shingen, but her dangerous masquerade becomes difficult to sustain when she falls for the man with a fatal secret.

Shingen was naked. And completely nonchalant about it.

Well, now you know he’s in proportion to his height was my semi-hysterical thought.

Fixing my eyes on the wall to the left of his shoulder was the best I could do. But the afterimage was burned into my retinas, probably with a mental half-life of at least six months.

He shrugged into a yukata – which covered his shoulders and arms and back and… not the area I was doing my absolute best to avoid staring at. “What is it? Did someone find her already?”

Find who? Between the attempt on Mai’s life and the full monty right in front of me, I wasn’t sure I had enough brain cells left to carry on a conversation. Focus. Focus. Don’t say naked. Don’t say penis. Don’t …. Augh!

I took a deep breath and held out the arrow. “Someone shot this over the wall at Mai.” Ok, managed a sentence with eight words. A coherent sentence, even.

His demeanor changed instantly from semi-relaxed to intent. Those grey eyes of his narrowed with concern (ten points for looking at his eyes, Katsuko!). Not even bothering to finish dressing, or even to fasten the yukata, he strode over and took the arrow. “Was she hurt?”

“No. Yoshimoto saved her life.” I explained in more detail what had happened. “She refuses to tell Kenshin, but … Yoshimoto and I felt someone in authority needed to know.”

Shingen examined the arrow. “This isn’t from the Kasugayama armory.”

“Sea eagle feathers are fairly easy to obtain around here, though.” Eager for something concrete to do – and remove myself from the naked – I offered to search through the area blacksmiths to see if anyone recognized it.

“You can do that later.” He went to the desk and found a clean piece of paper and a brush. “Can you draw?”

“Not at all.” I felt the need to apologize for my lack of drafting skills. But Katsu would not do that either. Nor would Katsu continue to side eye the naked, so stop that!

He bent over the desk, the yukata sliding forward to provide more coverage (Damn… I mean yay!), and roughly sketched out a map of the archery grounds. “Show me where everyone was standing.”

I knelt in front of the desk and drew barely recognizable stick figures where Yoshimoto, Mai, and I had been standing, then added some curly flourishes near the wall to represent where the tree line was visible over the wall.

He leaned over me (oh dear God) and pointed to my happy little trees. “The arrow came from there?”

Gah! He was too close! And too naked. I threw up a mental block and imaginary blinders and concentrated on making sense. It helped to remember that moment of shock when the arrow had come zipping out of the sky, and the fear I’d felt when I’d realized how close Mai had come to being killed.

“Um. Around there, yeah. This one, probably.” I put my finger on the spot, then traced a line across the drawing to the place where we had been standing. “One of these trees had to be it. There’s a lot of cover – I climbed the wall, but he was gone when I got there. Or well hidden.”

He was silent long enough for me to wonder what he was thinking. I turned my head to look up at him, and he finally stepped back and fastened the yukata. I couldn’t interpret the expression on his face, but there was enough sternness that this time I did apologize. “I should have searched the woods. Now it’s too late. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. I doubt he stuck around after that one shot. He was likely gone before you even got to the wall.” He patted me on the shoulder in a manner that felt distinctly fatherly. Ok. Yes. That’s a good way to think about him. A father figure. A naked father figure. No! Not a good way! No one wants to see their father naked!

If I ever get back to my own time, I’m going to need years of therapy.

“I’ll go take a look around anyway,” I said, looking for any excuse to get out of this room, and the wearing-almost-nothing Shingen.

“That’s a good idea – I’d like to do that as well, if you don’t mind showing me.” He walked toward his door. Ummm. Had he forgotten?

“I don’t mind, but you might want to get dressed. Or at least put some outside sandals on.” Wouldn’t want you to step on another ground spike.

He turned around and I edged toward the door before he could flash me again. “I’ll get Yoshimoto, since he might have seen something I didn’t, and meet you there.” I fled before he could say anything else.

And then-

WHAM!

I crashed right into an unsuspecting Sasuke as he rounded the corner. The force of our impact sent us both tumbling to the floor. Sasuke’s glasses flew off, while I smacked my head against the wall.

“Ow.” If there were a cartoon version of me, it would have stars circling my head. Except in my case, there would be tiny naked Shingens circling, and … “bunnies?”

“What?” Sasuke asked, squinting at me.

“Are hallucinations a symptom of head injury? I’m seeing things, right? Because there’s no way Kenshin is walking across the garden, leading a parade of rabbits.” Decades of therapy, I decided.

“Actually, he does that. They’ve imprinted on him.” He pulled himself up to a sitting position. Wow, I really had slammed into him.

“I thought that was ducks.”

“If you’re seeing ducks, then yes, I would diagnose head injury.” Sasuke patted the ground around him – oh, he must be looking for his glasses. They had landed near me, so I picked them up, hoping they weren’t cracked, as he obviously needed them. I held them up to the light and didn’t see any scratches.

“Here you go – it doesn’t look like they suffered any damage. Sorry about that.” I placed the glasses in his hand.

He put them back on. “What were you running from?”

“I was running to, not from,” I said as I got to my feet. “I need to go find Yosh-.” I paused and looked at Sasuke. It felt like my mind was trying to tell me something, but it was stuck behind a door. Like trying to remember the name of a song you know, but for some reason you can’t. It was something about-

Shingen, now completely dressed, came around the corner, which reminded me that there were other pressing matter that need dealt with. Whatever my mind was trying to tell me, it would hopefully spit out later. Probably the same exit chute that had given me the name of the Star Wars Fish Alien in the middle of the night.

“This is probably it, don’t you think?” I asked Yoshimoto.

He, Shingen and I gazed up at a tree that towered over the West side of the castle wall.

“It seems to be.” Yoshimoto made a cursory glance at the outstretched branches that nearly touched the stone of the wall.

The ground under the tree was carpeted in grass, so if the archer had been here, he was unlikely to have left any footprints. In spite of that, Shingen knelt on the ground and examined the underbrush. Since he was occupied with the ground level search, I concentrated my efforts on the tree. I squinted up at it. The midday sun was directly above, making it impossible to see anything from this angle. “Maybe we’ll be lucky and he snagged his clothing in the tree?” Could happen. Well, it had happened to Sasuke once.

I stalked around the tree, looking for the most efficient way up, before using an adjacent tree as a springboard to vault myself to the lowest branch. Then I scampered up until I reached a place where I could see over the castle wall into the training yard. The branch was thick enough to probably hold someone twice my weight.

“I’m pretty sure this is it. I can see the entire training field.” I went through the motions of drawing an invisible bow and picturing a shot I would take.

“How difficult would it be from where you are standing, to hit a moving target?” Shingen asked.

“It’s doable. We weren’t moving around all that much. A heavier arrow, like the one we found, could travel further than where we were standing. I mean, it wouldn’t be the easiest, but any experienced archer could do it.” It had been windy though, which would have made things harder. “Yoshimoto could you come up here and see if you agree?”

Yoshimoto had taken his fan out and seemed to be examining the painting on it. He paused, looked up at me, and said, “No.”

“You don’t think you could make that shot?” His answer surprised me. As far as I could tell, Yoshimoto was one of the best archers in Kasugayama.

“Oh, I could probably make the shot. I could not, however, climb that tree.” He gave a delicate shudder. He wasn’t fooling me any longer. He might pretend to be lazy, but I had seen him yank Mai out of the way of a speeding arrow. “With the wind the way it was, though, do you think he was aiming for Mai, or you, or me?”

“Or he didn’t care which one of…” Wait. Was that a piece of material snagged on the branch above? Would we get that lucky? I walked further along the branch, trying to reach that scrap of whatever.

“It’s possible it was meant as a threat to unsettle Ke- what the hell are you doing, Katsu?” There was a sharp edge to Shingen’s voice, but I was too focused on the scrap to delve into that.

I jumped to grab hold of the scrap, landing lightly back onto the branch, which dipped and swayed in response. I looked at the- “Damn. It’s just a leaf.”

Shingen yelled from below. “Get down from there!”

“Alright.” I hung off from the branch, then dropped the rest of the way down, absorbing the landing with a tuck and roll.

“Why cousin, you sounded practically paternal,” Yoshimoto said, while he gracefully fanned himself.

I stood up and dusted my hands off on my kimono. “What were you saying?” I asked Shingen.

He was frowning and his eyes had darkened. Wait. Was he really upset? “Get down fr-“

“No, before that.” I know it was rude to interrupt him, but I wanted to move the conversation back to a more productive path. “Something about a threat?”

“I don’t recall. Your daredevil stunt knocked it right out of my head.” He ran his hands through his hair. The hair, naturally, flopped right back into place. “I thought you were going to fall to your death.”

“What? From that height?” I glanced up. It wasn’t more than three or four meters off the ground. “I didn’t, so-“

Out of breath, I slammed a water while Tosh recalled the drone and played back the footage. “Fuck!” He frowned into the camera.

“What, didn’t it record?” I rested my chin on his shoulder to peer at the replay. It looked like it recorded. It was already uploaded to the cloud, in fact.

“It recorded.” He rewound the video to the moment where it looked like I had almost fallen off the roof railing. “Katsuko – you could have been killed.”

“I wasn’t, though.” I broke into my energy bar stash and offered him one.

He pushed it away. “I’m done.”

I didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Wait. Don’t. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” But he hugged me in spite of his harsh tone. “I can’t keep watching you chase death.”

I’ve had this conversation before.

“So…?” Yoshimoto prompted.

I shook my head. “It’s… I had a similar discussion with my brother on the last day that I saw him.”

“If that is the case, then you ought to think long and hard before taking unnecessary risks with your life,” Shingen said. Without another word, he turned and headed back to the castle, the bottom edge of his kimono flapping in the breeze.

“What’s up with him?” I was mostly talking to myself, but Yoshimoto answered me anyway.

“If I might interject…”

“You would anyway, even if I said no, so go on ahead.” We headed back to the castle entrance. Shingen’s long strides had already taken him out of view.

“Your circus stunt scared him, then his reaction to that scared him even more. As you may have noticed, he takes a fatherly interest in Yukimura, and unfortunately sometimes me, and now also to you.” Yoshimoto seemed to be carefully choosing his words. “He has strong feelings about people… wasting their lives.”

I looked over my shoulder at the tree. It looked even smaller from this distance. “I wasn’t even…” I paused to do the conversion in my head. Even after seven years, their system of measurement sometimes threw me. I gave up on the calculation. “That far off the ground. Even if I had fallen, which I would not have, it wouldn’t have been fatal.” Unless I had fallen on my head, but I would not have done that either.

“Agreed, but in the moment, it appeared to be more dangerous.” Yoshimoto also glanced back at the tree, which was now whipping about as the wind picked up.

“Does he wrap Yuki in silk padding before he goes into battle? I’m perfectly capable of climbing a tree, and he isn’t my father anyway,” not that my bio dad had bothered to stick around long enough to meet me, let alone worry about my health. “He’d have to have been extremely precocious to have pulled that one off.”

Or to have lived well into his 400s, but… details.

Yoshimoto hummed in agreement, which I believe was his version of smiling and nodding.

Aware that I was beginning to vent unnecessarily, I took a deep breath. “Anyway, I was just trying to help.”

“Yes.” Yoshimoto’s deadpan tone gave nothing away.

I took another deep breath. “And there is no reason for me to turn someone else’s – unreasonable-” (Snit) “anger at me into additional anger.”

“Agreed.”

“Even though one would think that my successful exit from said tree would have proven my skills sufficiently.” The deep breaths were not helping. I kicked a rock out of my path. That helped a little. I kicked another one.

“One would think so, yes.” I had a feeling he was laughing at me.

“Are you going to add anything of substance, or just be my own personal Greek chorus?”

Yoshimoto flapped that dang fan at me. “The latter. It does add a rather heightened sense of drama to this whole discussion, don’t you think?”

Shingen's POV chapter coming later today! For your turkey coma pleasure.