#plus i do love the culture and heart of my city

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 16 - Let It Flood

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: This feels like a good time to tell you guys we’re only halfway done and that I pinky promise there’s a happy ending.  Chapter Title from Foundations of Decay by My Chemical Romance

Word Count: 22k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: It's time. Usual Warnings, with big smut and bigger angst.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, fluff, heavy angst, smut, pining

Read on A03!

Chapter 15 - Chapter 17

“What about Paris?” 

She leaned around the bathroom door to frown at Ben, toothbrush muffling her words. “What about Paris?”

“For where they ship us off to after this shit.” Ben glanced down at his phone, displaying a generically fucking boring postcard picture of the Eiffel tower. “It’s full of fucking art and shit.” She loved stupid fucking art and shit.

“I don’t think they’re going to let us choose where we go, Ben.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “And you’d hate Paris. You hate France.”

Ben scowled. “It’s a stupid, useless, cowardly country full of-“

“Fucking pussies,” She smiled at him—so bright and happy—and Ben couldn’t bring himself to do more than roll his eyes at her dogshit impression of him. “I don’t think you’d make it a week in Paris. Someone would offer you food and you’d try to kill them.”

“What about,” Ben glanced at the next recommendation on the Ten Best Romantic Vacation Cities list he’d found online. It wasn’t total fucking shit, even if the website kept trying to tell him the Ten Best Ways to Use a Vibrator with a Partner. He’d save that tab for later. “Havana?”

“Cuba has a strained relationship with the CIA.” She shrugged. “I don’t think they’d agree to take us in.”

“Hawaii?”

“Well, I’d be fine with Hawaii, but I don’t think you would.” She retreated back into the bathroom, and Ben frowned.

“I’d fucking love Hawaii. It would be full of damn beaches to fuck on-”

“No,” She reappeared, walking over to stand between Ben’s legs. Looking so fucking perfect there—wearing his shirt and hair still messy from his hands and holding his face between her palms—that Ben almost missed what she was saying. “They wouldn’t put us in a resort, they’d put us in a town. Probably away from the beach, definitely without the infrastructure it should have. Just a real bummer of human rights. You’d hate it.”

She said those last words so simply that all the fancy, brainy shit she’d been telling Ben felt pointless. She thought he’d hate it, and she was always fucking right, and was smiling down at him with so much adoration on Her face that—even if she was somehow wrong—Ben was now certain he’d hate it.

“Fine,” he grunted, dropping his phone to his lap and tugging Her further forward with hands on the back of her thighs. “Where the hell would you want to go, if you’re so fucking smart.”

She was so fucking smart. And She knew it, because she was grinning when she said, “Rome.”

“Rome?” 

“It has a bunch of art and history and culture for me, and some very good fucking food for you. Plus, everyone there is stupid hot.”

Ben winked at Her. “You’re stupid hot enough to power a country, beautiful. I don’t need anyone else.”

“Thanks,” She mumbled, looking very firmly away from Ben as her face flushed that pretty fucking color. “But I was talking about for our escort business.” 

“And that’s why you’re the damn brains.” Ben rubbed circles on Her skin, and she fell a little further into him, hands tightening on his face. “Always fucking planning. We’re going to need to find some people half as damn hot as we are, because we’re only fucking each other.”

She scoffed, and Ben thought Her heart might beat right out of her chest. “How sweet of you, to keep your dick in your pants at even the prospect of money.”

“We’ll earn plenty of goddamn money. My dick is yours, Sunshine.” 

She hummed, and her hands started to play with Ben’s hair in a way that made him feel like a goddamn puppy. What was worse was that it felt fucking good. Her perfect fucking hands, touching him because she wanted to, because she liked touching him. “Even if someone offered ten million dollars?” 

“Yours.”

“That’s financially irresponsible.” She mumbled, still incredibly fucking determined to not meet his eyes. “We could buy a house with that money.” 

“If I was offering my dick for money,” Ben drawled. “We could buy a fucking island. But it’s yours,” he said Her name firmly, and she glanced at him with wide eyes. “So get damn used to chasing customers off.” 

“Chasing customers off?” 

“I’m going to have to do it for you,” he grinned at Her. “Fucking pussies who think they can fuck you the way I will.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him, but Ben didn’t miss the smile she was failing to fight. “Horny fucking cunt.” 

That was enough. Just that was a good enough reason for Ben to pull Her all the way into his lap, let her straddle his thigh, and silence her small sound of surprise with his mouth. For Ben to tug and touch Her skin in time with all the ways he’d learned to play her mouth until she was limp and moaning against him. Until he could bite Her lower lip and trace his hand along her spine and she’d throw back her head and arch against his hand. Until Ben could suck that spot on her throat and trace a hand across her ribs as she’d start grinding down onto him. 

“Ben-“ 

“Horny fucking cunt,” he echoed Her words against Her skin. “Your horny fucking cunt goddamn wants my dick, doesn’t it? Brat.” 

“Fuck you,” Her words were said through gasps, hands clawed and scraping at Ben’s scalp, and he chuckled.

“Afraid that’s not on the table right now, beautiful.” He pulled back to grin at Her. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t do anything about how fucking wet you are.” 

She whined something that might have been a plea, might have been a curse or vulgar phrase aimed at Ben, or might have been just one of the many pretty fucking sounds she made, but it all would’ve achieved this same effect. She was needy, She wanted Ben, and she was trying to fuck his thigh. Rolling her hips on it desperately, trying to chase relief against him. Making smaller, more desperate noises every time Ben’s hands brushed against her tits, every time his teeth or tongue found a new place to worship her skin. 

This was all they could do right now, and fuck it was torture. It was so goddamn painful to have Her grabbing at him and moaning and saying his name in that perfect fucking way—pleading and adoring in Her breathless voice—and not just be able to fuck Her. To know he had to goddamn wait another day, to feel his pants become tight like they had before and force himself to hold off when She wanted him to fuck Her. She wanted him. He had been given the image of Her slight drool when she’d jerked him off and knew she would look at him like that again. Look at him with more fucking care and want, because Ben would fuck Her until she wouldn’t ever think another weak fucking asshole could fuck her like she deserved. He’d fucking ruin Her. He’d have Her bounce on his cock like she was bouncing on his leg, and he would make her feel so fucking good. Make him worth something to Her, one fucking thing that nobody else would be able to give her.

Ben pulled back for a second, needing to just fucking see Her. See how fucking beautiful she was, wanting him, get a goddamn glimpse of how it would look when she rode his dick instead of his thigh. He’d never seen anything better. He’d seen mountains and waterfalls and the goddamn Northern Lights and they might as well have been fucking dumpster fires and car crashes compared to this. If anything, the car crash would be the only half-worthy comparison. Because She was destroying herself against Ben, staring at him with dazed, pretty fucking eyes, and all the bliss and pleasure on her face was from Ben. He was doing this to Her.

And he couldn’t look away if he tried. 

She’d made a small whine when Ben had pulled away from her throat—pushing down on him harder and hand scraping along the nape of his neck—but he pressed his head against hers and She moaned. 

“Ben, please-“

“So fucking good,” he growled, and She moaned again. “You want to cum, beautiful?” 

She nodded. “Yes.” 

“Beg.” 

“Fucking ass-“ She leaned forward, trying to capture Ben’s lips against hers. “Ben.” 

“I need you to fucking beg,” he kissed all across Her face, everywhere he could without bringing her any closer to the edge. “You want your horny fucking cunt to cum, then beg.”

“Please,” She was smoking. Her skin wasn’t growing warmer, but a glowing smoke was clouding the room as she tried to pull Ben closer. “Fucking please, Ben-“

He kissed Her, and she screamed into his mouth, clawing at his hair and skin. Bucking off his leg so that Ben had to grab Her hips and keep her still, had keep her from continuing to bump against him because he’d cum in his fucking pants. He had to pull himself the fuck together, he wasn’t a goddamn virgin pussy, but fuck She was so perfect. Ben might have almost cum just when She’d smiled at him, standing between his legs and touching him so easily.

As Ben looked at Her come down—beautiful and perfect and torn apart all over him—and she looked at Ben like he’d seen her look at the city skyline from the window, with the face she had when she listened to a song she loved. The Thing became painful. It had been trying to tell him something. Since the night before it had stopped trying to remind Ben how perfect She was, stopped trying to push him into her. Ben was well fucking aware how perfect She was. And since he’d crashed into Her there wasn’t a goddamn chance he was going to pull away.

So now the Thing was trying to tell him something. On repeat over twelve hours it had been rioting in Ben, trying to tell him something so fucking important. Something critical, that he needed to know so She could know as well.

And when She started to slide off of Ben—falling to her knees before him—the Thing felt like it might tear him apart.

“Hi,” She smiled at him, face so fucking bright and happy. Looking at Ben like he was everything.

He was. To Her, he was fucking everything. And weaker men than Ben would’ve cum just from Her saying that. Weaker men wouldn’t fucking survive Her. She’d look at them with sharp, infinite amusement on her beautiful face and fight with them over nothing and they’d simply goddamn die because fuck she was perfect. But She wouldn’t look at them like this. Like they were everything. That was—by some fucking grace of a god Ben was starting to be indebted to—a look She reserved for him. With adoration and care and something that was alive and powerful sitting deep in Her perfect eyes. Thank fuck Ben wasn’t a weaker man. He’d have never earned Her, on her knees before him with her hands on his thighs. He still hadn’t earned Her, but fuck him if he wasn’t going to dedicated the rest of his goddamn life to trying to. To showing Her that he was worthy of her looking at him like that, that he could keep up with her and protect her and-

Ben grunted Her name, because her hand was starting to trail up his leg and any and all thoughts were becoming just Her. “What are you doing.”

“Being an altruist,” She hummed, palm resting over Ben’s fully hard cock, still fucking smiling. “Giving back.”

“Sunshine-“ Ben cut himself off with a hiss, because she just fucking squeezed him. Her heart was stuttering around inside her, but Ben couldn’t tell if it was from desire. He didn’t need, didn’t want, Her to do this because she thought she had to. It had to be from desire. He wasn’t fucking Homelander. If She touched him, he needed her to need it. To want him. It wouldn’t mean a goddamn thing if she didn’t. If She touched Ben without looking at him like he was everything. “If you don’t want to-“

“I want to,” Her answer was fast, a little too fast, and Ben smirked. There it was.

“You want to?” He drawled, leaning over her, tilting her chin between his fingers. “How bad do you want to suck my dick, beautiful?”

“Bad,” She whispered. “But less and less by the second.”

Ben snorted. “Smartass.”

“Do you want me to suck your dick?” She blinked up at him, voice a little softer. “It’s just an offer, you don’t have to take it-“

Ben pulled Her face up between his hands, kissing her until her words name needy sounds and she was grabbing at his arms. When he was satisfied with the way she was moaning, Ben lowered her back down between his legs and grunted her name. “If I ever tell you not to suck my dick, fucking shoot me.”

“Yeah,” She nodded, glancing down at the outline of Ben’s cock, pushing against his pants that were still fucking on for some reason. “Okay.”

He muttered Her name, and she looked back up at him. “How much work do you want to do?”

She didn’t answer. She just started moving, pulling Ben’s pants down and taking him in her hand so quickly Ben would’ve thought she’d practiced. Stroking him once, twice, a third time, looking at his cock with pretty, lust-clouded eyes. Ben twitched in Her hand, and had to force himself not to rut into her, to just groan as Her thumb ran over the angry, red head of his cock. His job was just to watch Her—how she was so fully entranced in fucking torturing him—and let her do what she wanted. But it wasn’t fucking easy, not when she was so fucking beautiful, not when Her mouth was hanging slightly open and Ben didn’t think he could wait another second not being at least somewhat inside of Her.

Thank fucking hell and heaven and everything between that She didn’t go slow. Thank goddamn Christ that She took all on him at once, in a long movement that bumped him against the back of her throat, and set a brutal, torturous fucking pace. Found a beat, fast and rhythmic, where She’d pull up, up, almost all the way off with her hand trailing behind her, and lick the very tip of his cock before dropping back down. Down until Ben could feel the tightness of Her throat, squeezing his balls once before repeating it all again. Over and over, sucking with her teeth grazing him and her moans—loud and needy fucking moans—making Ben wonder if this was heaven. That was the only way that this—that She—was real, if he’d died and somehow managed his way into fucking heaven.

But Ben’s hand in Her hair that he’d tangled between his fingers to just touch her, was real. The small jerks of his hips into Her mouth—when her moans would vibrate around him and echo in his ears so he couldn’t help himself—were real. Her warmth and beauty and the feeling of Her was real. And fuck She was so fucking beautiful and perfect and-

Ben said Her name through strained teeth. “Where-“

She went faster. Moaned louder with a whine, her hand in time with the beat of her heart. Leaned into him, the wettest and most fucking sinful sounds Ben had ever heard escaping her. She was grinding down on air, so fucking pretty and focused, but looking up at him under eyelashes with want. Managing to take him deeper.

What did Ben in was Her. Fucking Her, groaning his name around his cock, looking up at him like he was everything.

He tried to pull away. He’d fucking swear he tried to pull away. He’d tried to paint her face or tits or any other perfect part of Her she’d allow, but she held him. She kept a firm grip on Ben’s leg for just a second—only long enough to tell him what she wanted—and he’d given in. He’d fucked Her face through his orgasm, and She hadn’t flinched as he came down her throat. Swallowing and letting Her tongue brush him all the way until he was done, then pulling off of him with a popping sound, and giving him a soft smile.

The amount of self-control Ben was capable of needed to be fucking studied. Every part of him needed to fuck Her. Anyone with half a fucking mind would need to fuck her if they were allowed to see her like this. Flushed and breathing heavy, eyes slightly unfocused with a want, cum dribbling out of her mouth. Allowed to see Her wipe it off with her fingers and suck them dry. Without hesitation, like it was something she didn’t even have to think about doing. But only Ben was allowed to see this, and that made it a million times more impressive that he was able to not throw Her onto the bed and fuck her until some stupid mission was the last thing she cared about.

The mission. The stupid fucking mission they had been supposed to be getting ready for. When it was over, he’d have all the time in the world to fuck Her like she deserved. But they’d have to actually do the mission first.

“What time is it?” She was looking around the room, still kneeling in front of Ben. “MM said we had to be in the dining hall at noon.” 

Ben couldn’t be fucked to stop staring at Her, let alone know the fucking time. “Check your damn phone, Sunshine, I’m not a fucking clock.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him. Her tongue that had just been wrapped around his cock. That had just been tasting his cum and she was still on Her knees-

“Mine’s dead, and like,” She waved vaguely past him. “Way over there. Give me yours.”

That snapped Ben out of it. Her palm was extended, she was looking at him expectantly, and he could not give her his phone. “You’ve got legs,” he grunted Her name, trying to look at her and remain completely fucking unaffected her flat glare. “Fucking use them.” 

She scoffed. “When have you ever been in favor of me using my legs.”

“I’m always in favor of you using your legs. They make excellent fucking handles.” Ben winked at Her, and her heart fluttered slightly. “And you’re always on my ass about letting you walk yourself. Here’s your fucking chance.” 

“Oh, fuck off.” Her voice was bored, unwavering. “Phone.”

“No. Get your own damn phone.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you being so weird.”

“I’m not being fucking weird-“ 

“Yes, you are. What’s wrong with you.” 

“Nothing, it’s my phone-“ 

“Benjamin.” She snapped, and he was in trouble. He knew that voice, that was Her I’m fucking onto your shit, Pretty Boy, voice. “Is it porn? Because I won’t give a flying fuck-“

“It’s not fucking porn,” he scowled. “I wouldn’t hide porn from you, that’s fucking stupid.” 

“So you are hiding something.” 

Shit. “Shut the fuck up.” 

She dove forward, hand jamming into Ben’s pocket. Where She knew he kept his phone, because she knew fucking everything. Insufferable, brilliant, perfect fucking woman. Thankfully, Ben was just faster than she was, and slammed his hand down to trap Her hand against him.

“Ben-“

“I’m not fucking hiding anything,” Ben said Her name firmly. It was incredibly fucking important she didn’t think he was keeping secrets from Her, because he wasn’t. This was worse than that. “I just value my goddamn privacy-“ 

“Oh, shove it up your ass, Pretty Boy.” She tried to tug her hand—now wrapped around Ben’s phone—from his grip. “I leave the door open when I shit and you spent an hour last week telling me about what Baseball games made you hard. I just sucked your dick. There’s literally nothing on your phone that could shock me.” 

He doubted that. Ben almost wanted to just let Her have his phone, to prove her fucking wrong. His pride managed to win for now, but if She kept talking about how she’d sucked his dick his will might dissolve real damn fast. “I told you about the baseball in fucking confidence-“

“I didn’t tell anyone.” She wrinkled her nose. “How would that have even come up? Hey, Annie. You know how you’re not Ben’s biggest fan? Wait until you hear about how he got a boner when the Phillies won the 1980 World Series, I’m sure it’ll completely reverse your opinion of him.” 

“Brat-“ “Can I please just check the time?” She had stopped trying to pull away from Ben, only frowning up at him with her pretty fucking eyes watching him carefully. “I won’t look in your phone, I just need to see the clock. Please.” 

Ben didn’t love how well that worked. How Her saying please and somehow trusting that he really wasn’t hiding anything from her made Ben crumble completely in only a second. Worse, he didn’t hate himself for it. He couldn’t call himself a fucking pussy because goddammit, anyone would’ve given into Her. Anyone with eyes and a brain would be willing to give Her anything.  

“Fine,” he grunted, loosening his hand from pinning Her’s in his pocket. “But I don’t want to hear a fucking word out your mouth, got it?” 

She blinked at him, but nodded. “Uh, sure.” 

His whole body was tense as She pulled out his phone, tapping the screen on, still on her fucking knees. She needed to stand up, needed to stop being so fucking perfect that Ben couldn’t look away, because now he had to watch Her look at his lockscreen as his teeth ground enough to break. Ben had to watch Her eyes widen, hear her heart skip a beat, and soft lips fall open in surprise.

She looked up at Ben, and he couldn’t avoid her gaze if he wanted to. “Ben-“ 

“Shut up,” he grumbled. “You promised. Not a fucking word.” 

“I did not promise,” She pushed. “I agreed. You should’ve made me promise, because I-“

“Fucking promise then. Not a word.” 

“Well, that ship kind of sailed, Benjamin.” Her voice was dry, and Ben couldn’t figure out what that face meant. How She was looking at him—still like he was everything—but with something pushing up behind her eyes. That powerful thing, the one Ben couldn’t name. “So now we’re going to have several words about it.” 

Ben scowled, remaining silent as he realized there wasn’t a way out of this. She was sitting straight, one hand planted on Ben’s knee to balance herself, and had placed her body right where Ben would knock her backwards and onto the floor if he tried to move away. He could try and kiss and fuck his way through it, but She had the sharp look in her eyes that told him she’d either bite him, burn him, or let him fuck her before immediately getting on his ass again after. 

She sighed, and turned Ben’s screen so he could see it. “That’s me.” 

It was Her. She didn’t need to be fucking showing it him, he well knew that it was her. It was his favorite picture of her, the first one he’d taken that wasn’t a blurry piece of shit. It showed her downstairs, watching the TV with a focus Ben could only describe as violent. He remembered what they were watching, that she’d been tapping Ben’s arm along with the soundtrack, and that it had been close to midnight, because he could recite every detail of the photo—in picture and out—backwards with his damn eyes closed. She was wearing Ben’s shirt and shorts that had been small enough for the shirt to completely cover. It gave the impression that she was only wearing Ben’s shirt. She was frowning at the TV—perfect face cast in a green light from its glow—and leaning against Ben’s shoulder with his hand on her thigh. She had been half asleep, and the drawn frustration on her face and intensity in her eyes had been because she was fighting to make it through the movie. The fucking Muppet Movie, that she’d used a favor for Ben to watch with Her. He hadn’t watched it, he’d watched Her watch it, but there was no reason she had to know that. She’d seemed thrilled he was just there, and he’d been satisfied watching Her struggle to stay awake, feeling her fall further and further into his side, and listening to her mumble about the Muppet’s fucking cultural importance right up until the credits rolled and she immediately passed out.

Ben fucking loved that photo. How She could’ve just watched it alone but used a whole favor just for Ben to sit with her. How She’d been so determined to stay awake she’d been trying to inch away from him, but Ben would pull her back gently and she’d just sigh as her eyes drooped further. How at one point She’d started singing along with all the damn puppets, and the room had filled with a colorful, misting light. How She looked so much like his, how anyone glancing at the photo would see that she was choosing him and know that he had chosen her. How fucking beautiful she looked, even in the dark from the higher angle. So fucking perfect. 

He didn’t have any justification for it. The photo or why it was his lockscreen. It had taken Ben a whole hour while She was with Annie and Hughie to figure out how to set it. She’d told him, and he’d listened, but phones were a goddamn terrible, dogshit technology. But he’d done it. By himself. And fought the urge to brag to Her after. Because She didn’t need to know that it was his lockscreen, and Ben didn’t really know to explain why it was. It made him fucking happy. He liked seeing Her pretty face every time he used his phone. 

And he wasn’t sure how to tell Her that without sounding like a fucking idiot pussy.

So he just glared at Her and grunted, “Obviously.” 

“Ben,” Her words were slow, and she wasn’t looking away from him. “Why is that a picture of me.” 

“Because the camera was pointed at your damn face.” 

“Benjamin.” 

“It’s a good fucking photo, okay?” Ben snapped. “You look hot.” 

She glanced at the photo. “I do not look hot.” 

He scoffed. “Get your fucking eyes checked, Sunshine. You look hot. Every photo of you looks hot.” 

Her eyes somehow grew wider, her heart picking up speed, and Ben was going to chop off his tongue. “Every photo of me?” 

“That’s enough,” Ben lunged forward, but She swatted his hand with just enough heat for him to pull back with a hiss of Her name. “Give me my fucking phone.“

“Tell me what you mean by every. Every photo of me.” 

“No.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Fine, you stubborn, grumpy ass. Have it your way.” 

Before Ben could stop Her, she was swiping his phone open and entering his password. Hunching down so Ben could see her face, covering the phone protectively with her body. 

“This is violation of my fucking privacy.” He grumbled. “I’m going to report you to HR.” 

She shot him a flat look from under her lashes. “You didn’t even know what HR was until Mallory made us all sit in on that seminar because I called Butcher a hussy fucking cuntwad bitch and one of the regular agents overheard. And I could report you to HR for taking photos of me without my knowledge.” 

“They’re not damn pervert creep photos-“ 

“Ben,” She looked up at him, thumb hovering over the Photo Library app icon. “As your closest thing to unqualified legal counsel, I’d advise you shut the fuck up.” 

Ben scowled at Her, but snapped his jaw shut, watching her wearily as she opened his photos. 

They were all of Her. The only ones that weren’t of her were something called—according to his very thorough internet research—screenshots, that Ben didn’t know how he was taking, let alone how to stop taking. But the rest was Her. There wasn’t another fucking thing worth taking photos of in this stupid damn compound. In the whole fucking world. She was scrolling through them way too fucking slow, heart stuttering against her ribs, and Ben thought he might be fucking blushing. He didn’t fucking blush, he wasn’t a ditzy fucking schoolgirl or embarrassed pussy asshole who blushed- 

She surged upwards, yanking Ben down by his shirt to kiss him. Gently, sweetly, and so fucking soft, humming into Ben’s mouth with a smile. Leaning against his chest until She was hanging off him with her arms around his neck. When she pulled back Her eyes were burning with that strange fucking look, and she was chewing her lip and she studied him. Looking for something Ben didn’t know how to show Her. Mouth opening and closing, heart beating fast, and the Thing needed to tell Her something- 

“You’ve been playing Candy Crush,” She said with a small, smug grin. “I saw the screenshots. They go back like, three weeks.” 

“Shut up,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, and She just shook her head. 

“No, I’m going to rub this in your fucking face so hard-“ 

It was his turn. To kiss Her and hold her and hope that was enough for the Thing to just stop screaming at him. It wasn’t—it made everything worse when She relaxed against him with a happy sound—and the Thing grew impossible to ignore. Drowning everything out with Her, Her, Her, Ben had something she needed to have too, She needed to understand. The only thing to keep it at bay, from bursting out of Ben and into Her, was touching her. Setting his mouth deeper against Hers, hauling her over him as he lay flat on the mattress, letting her whines and breathless sounds run right through him. Let them satiate his undying need and hunger for Her. 

She pulled back first, and Ben let himself be slightly cocky about how her thighs were squeezing around his chest. About the fact that She just rested her head on his shoulder as she caught her breath. Warm breath fanning over his neck, heartbeat slowing right until Ben started to sit up and She mindlessly ground against him at the movement. 

The Thing had to tell Her about this indescribable, unending fucking something. But the Thing didn’t have words. It was a part of Ben, and Ben couldn’t get a goddamn fucking clue what was so apparently fucking crucial for Her to know. But She had to know, whatever it was she had to know, she needed to get it, get him, get why, Ben needed to tell Her- 

“It’s almost noon,” She whispered against Ben’s skin. “We need to go.” 

Ben nodded, and picked Her up against him, turning them so she was resting on the bed as he stood. “I’m wearing my fucking suit.” 

“Okay,” Ben could see her watching him in the mirror, still only wearing a shirt and underwear. He tossed her some pants and bra over his shoulder, and didn’t move until She started pulling them on. “You should bring your shield as well.” 

He frowned at Her. “What about you.” 

“What about me?” 

“You need a fucking weapon. I still have that pussy agent’s gun-“ 

She rose from the bed, padding over to Ben side with a small smile. “I’m the weapon, Pretty Boy. And I have you.”

Any protests Ben might have had about how She might be a walking, breathing weapon of mass destruction but Homelander always made her freeze were killed by those words. She did have him. She’d always have him. She didn’t need a weapon because she had him. She was brilliant and quick and made of fire, but if all that managed to fail, she had Ben. She was standing here, with him as he changed—stealing looks that he wasn’t fucking missing at his bare chest—and She had Him. 

“What wrong,” he grumbled, and She shook her head, hands roaming through one of the top drawers. 

“Socks.” 

Ben rolled his eyes, and grabbed out a simple black pair from the top. “I want my fucking phone back.” 

“Why, to play Candy Crush?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben muttered. “I’m fucking winning. I’ll delete it when I fucking win.” 

She snorted. “You can’t win Candy Crush, Benjamin.” 

“What the hell are you talking about.”

“There’s like a million levels. And they’re always adding new ones. It’s not a winnable game.” 

“Well I’ll make it fucking winnable.” 

She snorted. “How.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben frowned, watching Her as she continued to search the drawer. “And I just gave you perfectly good fucking socks-“

“I need underwear,” She mumbled, face flushing. “Mine are, uh, I can’t wear them.” 

Ben grinned—wide and smug—at Her reflection, “Why not?” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Ah,” Ben winked at Her when she finally met his eyes. “You’re welcome for that.” 

“Shut up,” She chucked a stray bra at Ben, glaring back down. “Go get your stupid fucking phone, you cunt.” 

Ben ran his hand up Her back, into her hair, and gently turned her head to look at him. He kissed Her one last time because she was so fucking perfect and no one could damn stop him. Long and wet, until She said his name in that perfect fucking way. “Brat,” he whispered against Her mouth, and she shoved his chest lightly. 

Ben took a steady step back, chuckling at Her glare, at the way her sharp eyes were still full of want for him. At the way Her dramatic pout was just a little bigger because he’d made her lips swollen. At Her. Just Her. So fucking simply Her. 

As She changed, Ben ducked under the bed and frowned at where he’d stashed the gun. Carefully between the mattress and frame, unloaded with the rounds beside it. He wouldn’t need it. The plan would work, and he wouldn’t need it. There was no need to bring it—to show the team he had it—and not need it. 

But it couldn’t hurt. He could stash it in his suit, hide it from Butcher and Mallory and Annie, and nobody would have to know unless he needed it. And then they wouldn’t try to take it away, because Ben would’ve just fucking saved their asses- 

“Just bring the gun, Ben.” 

His head bumped against the metal frame of the bed as he pulled out from under it and found Her standing above him with her arms crossed. “What-“ 

“You should bring it,” She shrugged. “I mean, it won’t hurt Homelander, but guns don’t weigh nothing. You could throw it at his face, if you needed to. Catch him off guard.”

Fucking Christ, She was perfect. Ben didn’t need to be told twice, and as he returned under the bed to retrieve the gun he heard her steps move away from beside him. When he stood back up, Ben saw that She had moved to her side of the bed, and was placing her sunglasses up on her forehead before turning to Ben with a grin. 

“Ready?” 

Ben shoved his gun into his pants, hauled up his shield, and gave Her a rough nod as he tossed his arm over her shoulder. “Fucking born ready.” 

For once, She and Ben weren’t the last people to arrive at one of these stupid fucking meetings. Butcher and Mallory were there—Ben didn’t think they had lives outside of fucking up everyone else’s—huddled along with MM at the head of the table. The French Prick and Kimiko were in a silent conversation on one of the benches, but Hughie and Annie were late. Ben tried not to feel too smug about it, but next time Annie tried to berate him about keeping his dick in his pants and his mouth to himself because he was making Her late, he’d shove this in her fucking face.

Seeing them, Mallory gave a curt nod and ushered Butcher and MM through the steel kitchen door as She guided Ben to drop down at the bench. Kimiko smiled at them both, the usual, toothy and broad smile for Her, and a small one with a nod for Ben. As She and Kimiko launched into an exchange of gestures, the French Prick gave Ben a nervous nod. 

“Good morning, Soldier Boy,” the French Prick was watching Ben carefully. 

“It fucking isn’t,” Ben grunted, and She kicked his shin under the table. 

Play nice, She shot him a quick glare before returning her attention to Kimiko, and Ben rolled his eyes. He was saved from the French Prick trying to continue engaging with him by Annie and Hughie’s arrival, Annie walking over to join the group of conniving dickheads in the back and Hughie halting at the bench, glancing nervously at Ben. 

“Just sit your pussy ass down, Kid.” Ben snapped, and braced for another hit to his leg. It didn’t come, and when he looked over at Her—expecting a glare or scowl—the only sign she’d heard him was her knee, pressing into his. 

Hughie sat, fidgeting at Ben’s side and trying to look at the doors without anyone noticing. With quick, weak glances and jerked head movements. Ben was about to tell him to just stand the fuck up and join them when he felt Her nudge his shoulder, and looked over to see her blinking at him. 

Kimiko said they were arguing about splitting us up. 

Ben scowled at Her. The fuck do you mean splitting us up. 

Mallory wanted you to go to the tower. MM didn’t. 

That was, genuinely, a fucking shock. MM hated him, there wasn’t a world where he’d stick up for Ben fucking staying with Her. It must have shown across Ben’s face, because She shrugged.

He apparently thought this wouldn’t work if they separated us. Said you’d just be a giant fucking whiny manchild without me. 

Did they decide? Ben decided to ignore MM’s manchild jab, because She’d just find a way to turn it on him with a joke and that fucker seemed to be the only one with a damn working brain. Because there’s not a fucking chance in hell you’re meeting Homelander without me. 

They’re still arguing. Butcher hadn’t voted yet, and they were waiting for Annie. 

Ben rolled his eyes. Who damn died and put those four pussies in charge of us. This is fucking democracy, Sunshine, we deserve a vote. 

Well, we’re both technically dead, Kimiko and Frenchie aren’t citizens, and I think Hughie just doesn’t want to deal with them. 

They’re talking about our fucking lives. We should get a goddamn say. 

Take it up with Mallory, Pretty Boy. 

I’m not taking shit up with Mallory. She can suck my dick if she tries to separate us. 

She pouted at him. I thought your dick was mine to suck alone. 

Ben snorted, pulling Her closer towards him and kissing the top of her head. Before he could growl something in her ear that would make her fucking horny enough to ditch this whole stupid goddamn plan and take off to Rome with him, the doors were swung open and MM stalked back into the room with Annie close behind him. Butcher and Mallory followed after a few seconds—Mallory having pulled a huge fucking poster out of her damn ass at some point—and they stopped at the head of the table as Annie dropped next to Hughie and MM sat beside the French Prick. She hadn’t tried to pull out from under Ben’s arm, and until she did she’d stay right fucking there. 

“Look alive, cunts.” Butcher glared around the table. “We’re moving out as soon as all our bloody ducks are in a row. Grace?” 

Mallory nodded, spreading the poster across the table. It was a blueprint. Ben recognized it immediately. He’d seen it far too many fucking times. It was a Vought Tower blueprint. 

“Butcher, Marvin, Frenchie, and Kimiko will take this door,” she tapped the blueprint, and something around Ben’s throat loosened when he realized he wasn’t going to the tower. He was staying with Her. “Into the building. It’s used for the Seven’s housekeepers and more illicit guests.” 

Hughie frowned. “Illicit?” 

“Hookers, lad.” Butcher winked. “It’s the hooker door.” 

“Oh. Uh, good for them.” 

“And we have access to it?” Annie leaned forward. “MM, you said A-Train-“ 

“He’s leaving it unlocked for us.” MM tapped the map, near where Mallory had just done the same. “And making sure someone conveniently loses their badge.” 

“Someone?” 

“Don’t worry your pure little bleedin heart, Starlight.” Butcher drawled. “We’ll be keepin the lady on lockdown. Best fuckin witness protection package the CIA’s got.” 

Hughie frowned at MM. “What about A-Train? Are we, are we just going to trust him?“

“He’s got his own ass on the line as well now.” MM’s voice was firm. Not leaving room for argument. “And after the Diner, he and Ashley both got skin in the game. I trust him.” 

“And he’s just leaving the door unlocked? Giving us an opening?” 

“He said he’d try and keep The Deep and New Noir distracted. Can’t account for Sage though.” MM looked away from Hughie, back to Mallory. “As long as there hasn’t been any leaks, it shouldn’t fucking matter that Sage is in the tower though. If she doesn’t get the drop on us, she’s a non-issue.” 

Mallory nodded tightly. “Agreed. And none of my men are stupid enough to say shit to anyone, so we’re in the clear. Team Butcher will take the elevator up, find Ryan Butcher on 99, and extract him. Butcher has the Becca and Anomaly files on his phone, and hopefully that will be more than enough to make Ryan go willingly.” 

Ben tensed, and when She spoke her fingers were tapping against his arm. “And if it’s not?” 

“Then Frenchie creates the diversion, and we leave empty handed.” 

She nodded slowly, examining the blueprints. “Frenchie?” 

“Oui?” 

“What exactly is your diversion?” 

“I have detested the billboard of Firecracker in the Times Square for several months. She is dead, she will not miss it.” The French Prick beamed with pride, and She glanced up with a frown. 

“Times Square?” 

“It will be controlled, Madame.” The French Prick assured Her, shooting Ben quick pussy glances. “Only just enough.” 

She nodded, narrowing her eyes back on the blueprint. “We’re taking two separate cars, right?” When nobody answered, She looked up. “Mallory?”

“You’ll all be transported in the van.” Mallory frowned. “It’s more effective-“ 

“No,” She shook her head, attention returning down once more. “It’s more dangerous. We’re already risking a lot by Annie coming with Ben and I. We can’t also have one group unable to make a quick getaway.” 

“I suppose,” Mallory’s lips drew in a thin line. “Butcher could take his car-“ 

“We’ll take Butcher’s car.” She tapped the blueprint, near the door. “There’s cameras. If they see Butcher’s car, they’ll know something’s up. You have,” She looked up, scanning the table with sharp eyes. “You’ve taken care of the cameras in the building. Right?” 

“We’ll shoot them as we go,” Butcher grunted, and She gaped at him. 

“As you fucking go?” 

“They won’t be entering the tower until after Homelander leaves it.” Annie leaned across Ben and Hughie to look at Her. “And they won’t be wandering. It’ll be fine.” 

“Speaking of Homelander,” Mallory crossed her arms. “Starlight, Campbell, Soldier Boy, and the Anomaly will,” she sighed. “Take Butcher’s car to the Starlight Fund. From there, Soldier Boy will call Homelander with Campbell’s phone. Once Homelander arrives, Starlight will alert Team Butcher, and they’ll begin. Do not-“ Butcher received a withering look. “Proceed with the extraction until Team Starlight has given the green light. Understood?” 

Butcher shrugged. “We’ll see.” 

“Butcher-“ 

“We’re playin real bloody fast and loose with a lot of this, Grace.” Butcher snapped. “I’d be more fuckin worried about what we’ll do if Homelander doesn’t take his bait.” 

Everyone looked at Her, still frowning at the blueprints. Ben squeezed her thigh lightly, and she glanced up at him a frown. “What-“ 

“What’s your plan, Love,” Butcher drawled. “For if Homelander don’t fall into your trap that easy.” 

She swallowed, and Ben could hear the rapid beat of her heart. “He will.”

Her voice was steady, every part of her controlled, but under the table her leg pressed into Ben’s, and her hand drummed against his leg. Ben grabbed it, stilling her movement, and She glanced at him.

You’re going to be fine, he glared at Her. This is going to fucking work, and you’ll be fine.

She smiled at him with sad fucking eyes that carved something open in Ben’s chest. I know. She tilted her head at him. And I thought you hated this plan.

I do. Ben scowled. I fucking loathe this stupid goddamn plan. But it will work, and tonight I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll stop making such fucking idiotic plans. 

She pouted at him. But making idiotic plans is one of my best qualities. 

Ben rolled his eyes. I’m well fucking aware of your best qualities. That’s not one of them. 

Really, She gave him a flat look. Because I think it’s in the top three. It’s stupid plans, my tits, and my ability to put up with your shit. 

Smartass, Ben bumped his knee with hers, grinning down at Her. You’re not even fucking close. 

Not even the tits?

Your pussy is better, Ben winked at Her. Trust me, Sunshine. You’ve got the best pussy I’ve ever fucking seen. 

She flushed, wrinkling her nose at him. Have you been ranking all the pussies you’ve seen? 

Had to pass the damn time somehow. 

I feel like there had to be other options. 

Maybe, Ben shrugged. But I don’t really give a shit. And now I can be fucking certain when I say your pussy is my favorite. 

What are my best qualities, if you’re such an expert? She was watching Ben carefully, and he almost scoffed at how nervous she looked. Like he might not be able to give an answer. Ben could list Her best qualities for fucking years, if someone let him. 

You’re a goddamn genius. You’re fucking kind, kinder than you should be. And you’ve got the best fucking pussy of all time. 

I don’t think I’m kind, She frowned, and that definitely made Ben scoff. 

You’re the kindest person I know. It’s fucking annoying. Ben studied Her soft, tight features. She didn’t believe him. You’re not nice, Sunshine. You’ve got a smart fucking mouth and a damn attitude. But you’re kind. 

She nodded slowly. And you don’t hate that? 

Ben blinked at Her. Why the fuck would I hate that. 

Kind people are pussies, Ben. 

Nice people are pussies, He glared Her name at her perfect face, watching him intently. They’re weak, lying, insufferable fucking holier-than-thou assholes. You’re not any of that. 

She smiled at him, without teeth but real. That was her real, comfortable smile that made the Thing so fucking loud. You’re not a pussy either. 

I fucking know that. He was trying to glare at her, but it wasn’t damn working. Not when She was smiling at him like that, and that deep, infinite thing in her eyes was so clear. Aimed at him. And the Thing had to fucking tell Her something- 

Butcher coughed, and Ben realized the whole fucking Pussy Brigade was staring at them. “You twats paying attention?” 

“Does it fucking matter if we are?” Ben drawled. “It’s her damn plan, and I know everything I’ve got to do. Not our fucking fault you dumbasses need a whole meeting.” 

“Then could you please repeat your instructions, Soldier Boy?” Mallory glared at him. “For our own peace of mind?” 

Ben held Mallory’s glare with his own. This was a fucking waste of time. “Go to the Starlight Fund, call Homelander, distract the pussy, then leave.” Protect Her. Don’t let her out of your sight, or Homelander within a fucking arms reach of her. Keep Her safe, at any fucking cost. 

“With whose phone, Gov?” Butcher sneered, and Ben rolled his eyes. 

“Mine, you fucking-“ 

Butcher made a loud buzzer sound. “Afraid that ain’t the right answer. Would you like to try again for double Jeopardy?” 

“That’s not how fucking Jeopardy works.” MM frowned, and Butcher shot him a glare. 

“That ain’t the fuckin point, MM. The cunt got it wrong-“ 

“Whose fucking phone should I damn use then?” Ben snapped. There would be time for Butcher’s fucking bitching later, right now Ben’s patience was about to fucking snap. This needed to be done. “Mine works fucking fine-“ 

“Your phone is a registered CIA number,” Hughie looked at Ben nervously as he explained. “Mine isn’t. Vought won’t take a CIA call, it’ll get screened on the first ring. And they probably won’t take a call from Annie, either. If we call the tower with my number we’ll get past the first checkpoint, and then you speaking will get us to Homelander.” 

This shit wasn’t worth arguing about. It was barely worth fucking talking about. “Fine. Are we actually going to do this, or just goddamn sit here like a bunch of assholes.” 

“We were just waiting on you and the missus to rejoin us, Gov.” Butcher sneered. “Everyone’s been clear for a hot fucking minute while you twats were eye-fucking.” 

Ben glowered at him, clenching his fist under the table. When this was over, Ben was going to kill him. It was going to be so fucking satisfying, and then he’d run away with Her to goddamn Rome. But this had to be finished first. 

As everyone started to filter out—tight nods and wishes of good luck being exchanged—Ben stayed at Her side. She was still looking at the blueprints, frowning as her eyes scanned slowly over the paper right until Mallory pulled it away. She started to stand, and Ben wrapped an arm around Her waist. Keeping her steady and at his side. 

“Team Starlight will leave first,” Mallory's voice was curt as she nodded at Annie. “Butcher-“ 

Hughie let out a high yelp as Butcher chucked the keys at him. Somehow, the pussy managed to catch them. 

“Lad, if you wreck my car, you’re buyin me a new one.” 

“Um, yeah. Okay.” Hughie nodded nervously. “Do I have to drive-“ 

“Yes, and any of those cunts bloody touch the wheel-“ 

“Your car will be fine Butcher.” Annie cut him off with a glare. “It’s just a car.” 

Butcher looked like he might kill her, but MM cut off any violence—fucking unfortunate, because Annie probably would’ve killed Butcher and then Ben wouldn’t have to—with a snap of, “We don’t got time to waste on this shit. The kid will drive, Butcher, and your car will live. Let’s fucking move.” 

Ben held Her against him out of the building, helping her into the backseat of Butcher’s car and pulling her back into his chest when he sat at her side. She let him, leaning against his body and burying Her face in his shoulder as her heart became uneven. Not fast, but arhythmic. Her breathing was controlled, steady against Ben’s skin, but her heart betrayed the fear in her. Ben fucking hated this. He hated that she was doing this to herself. He hated that the only thing he could really do about it was hold her, at least until it was over and he could kiss and fuck all the worries out of Her perfect brain. 

He could try to distract Her. He wasn’t sure it would work, not when she was hugging him so tight and so fucking afraid, but goddamnit he had to do something. He couldn’t just fucking sit here, in the back of Butcher stupid car, and do fucking nothing like a fucking weak goddamn pussy. 

Ben squeezed her against him once, and She hummed into his body. Not looking up at him, or speaking. So Ben turned forward, attempting a different strategy. 

“What the fuck were you pussies talking about in the kitchen?” Ben grunted, and Annie sighed in the shotgun seat. 

“It’s not that important.” 

Ben rolled his eyes. “So you weren’t trying to goddamn separate us?” 

Annie shot Hughie a glare, the kid’s knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Hughie, did you-“ 

“Kimiko told us,” She turned slightly in Ben’s hold, voice soft. “And they didn’t separate us, Ben. Don’t be an ass.” 

He glared at Her. “I’m not being a fucking ass-“ 

“Benjamin.” She wrinkled her nose at him, and Ben felt a little lighter. She was pushing back at him, she was less afraid, and that’s all he could fucking ask for. “Shut up.” 

“Uh,” Hughie glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “Are you, is he-“ 

“He’s fine.” She slapped Ben arm, and he scoffed. “Just grumpy.” 

“I’m not goddamn grumpy.“ Ben muttered. “I’m just trying to get some fucking answers. Figure out what shit they were saying about us behind our fucking backs.” 

“It’s really not that interesting,” Annie shrugged. “Mallory said it would be better to take you with Butcher. MM said it would be worse. Butcher and I voted with MM, and that was it.” 

She frowned, twisting around fully to look at Annie. “Butcher voted with MM?” 

Annie nodded, and She looked up at Ben. That’s weird right? I’m not insane? 

No, it’s fucking weird. Ben glared at Annie, and said aloud, “The fuck did he do that for.” 

“I don’t know,” Annie turned to look back at them. “I mean, would you rather he hadn’t?” 

“It’s just, it’s surprising.” She shrugged. “He hates us.” 

“I don’t think he hates you,” Hughie said slowly. “Butcher doesn’t like being wrong. Or challenged. You,” he said Her name, nodding to Her in the mirror. “Specifically, do both. I think when we found you he thought you’d be like either Annie or Maeve, and you weren’t.” 

“Annie or Maeve?” She gave Ben a confused look, and he shrugged. He didn’t have a fucking clue what Hughie was talking about, or how anyone could possibly be annoyed by Her not being Annie or Maeve. She was fucking perfect, and Butcher was lucky to be damn graced with her presence. 

“Like, completely against everything he does or completely for it.” Hughie looked to Annie for help. “Right?”

“I mean,” Annie frowned, nodding. “I guess. None of us were sure what we were looking for with you. Maeve said you were powerful, and hated Homelander. We all kind of took that as you’d been burned by Vought or something, not what, what actually happened.”

“And Butcher kind of got an idea that you’d be just, easy to work with. And after we did find you, I think he was sure you’d just be willing to do whatever he wanted to kill Homelander. And you weren’t.” Hughie shook his head, hands tapping on the wheel. “So I don’t think he hates you. I think he just doesn’t like that you’re um, not what he expected.” 

That was completely fucking insane to Ben. She wasn’t what anyone expected, that was one of the best damn things about Her. She was too damn forgiving and kind, but still a clever, vindictive woman who never fucking backed down. She didn’t ride any sort of fucking high horse, but also cared about people. It would be fucking annoying and insufferable if She wasn’t so fucking genuine about it. If her money didn’t live in her pretty fucking mouth when she said she’d do whatever it takes and understood what that meant for Her. She wasn’t easy to work with, not by a fucking long shot, but that was because she was goddamn resolved, so certain of what She thought had to be done and what She deemed unnecessary. She was always fucking right, she never fully broke, she never fucking faltered, and the whole goddamn world was better for it. 

“So he, he voted in our favor?” She was still looking at Annie, head tilted. “No conditions?” 

Annie shook her head. “I voted with MM, and he followed. Told Mallory he was with us.” 

She nodded, and gave a small sound of agreement. Even as he wanted a fucking reason—for Butcher’s goddamn attitude and cruelty to her, for why’d this was where he backed them up—Ben decided he would drop it for now, no how much this all made him want to pummel Butcher into the curb. There would be time for that later, now was about keeping Her here. With him. 

Ben kissed Her shoulder, because he fucking wanted to, he could, and she was starting to look damn sad again. She leaned her head back into Ben, and smiled up at him. Hi. 

How fucking far is this place. Ben met Her gaze, fighting his mouth tugging upwards to return her smile. This was serious. Fucking serious. He had to glare so She knew that. We’ve been driving for a million damn years. 

It’s been twenty minutes, Benjamin. We’ll be there soon. She gave him a teasing grin. You fucking toddler. 

Ben rolled his eyes. I am not a fucking toddler. I’m a fucking grown man, who’s doesn’t have the goddamn time for this shit. 

Really. She raised her brows, still grinning. It was getting a lot fucking harder to not grin back at Her. We have the same schedule, and I’ve got time for it. 

No you don’t. He winked at Her, and knew she figured out where he was headed when her finger dug into his arm and her face flushed. I’ve set aside our whole night to fuck you. And I’d like to get started as soon as goddamn possible. 

She stuck her tongue out at him, and Ben stopped trying to fight his smile. Cunt. 

Brat. He kissed her, pulling her fully into his lap and leaning over her body. She smiled against Ben’s lips, making a small sound from her throat, and the Thing was going to fucking explode and kill him. The only way out was to tell Her. Ben still wasn’t sure what the fuck the Thing thought he needed to say, but he was positive it was something for Her. Absolutely fucking certain that She needed to know that Ben- 

The car halted, the rumble of the engine going dead, and She pulled away from Ben to look around. 

“We’re here?” 

Hughie nodded, shoving the keys in his pocket. “Is everyone, uh, I guess ready?” 

“As we can be,” Annie unbuckled herself, taking a deep breath. “We should go inside. Fast.” 

She nodded, Her hands on Ben’s arm growing heated. Searing into his skin, smoke curling up into the air. 

Ben said Her name lowly, because this needed to be aloud. She needed to hear him. 

She looked up at him, her small smile not reaching her eyes. “Ben.” 

“You’re going to be fucking fine.” Ben hissed, turning Her body in his arms so she faced him fully. “I’m not going to leave your side. I’m not going to let him fucking near you. And then we’ll go home.” 

“I know,” She leaned forward, kissing him so fucking sweetly, pressing Her forehead to his. “I trust you.” 

As She started to slide out of the car, every part of Ben was telling him to grab her. To pull her back against him, commender a plane from any shitty fucking cargo airport, and leave. Get the fuck out now. The only thing that kept him from giving in was the knowledge that she’d hate him. She’d never fucking forgive him for making her leave, she’d never damn speak to him again, and Ben didn’t think he could live with that. He didn’t think that he could live without Her. He honestly wasn’t sure how he had lived without her before. He’d never needed someone like this, he’d never needed fucking anything before. He’d never cared so much what someone else thought, been so willing to do anything for just one person. One perfect fucking person. Ben had lived a whole lifetime, and then some, alone. And he’d been content. Not happy, but content. Now he was happy. Now he had Her, and she was perfect, and he never wanted to go back to just content. 

So he followed Her out of the car, shield in his hand. He’d follow her anywhere. Out of a car was barely anything when he’d move mountains and burn cities to follow her. Actually, he’d clear the cities first, then burn them. Ben was pretty certain She’d be pissed about him burning a city with people in it. Looking down at Her—beautiful and pulling his arm over her before he was at full height—Ben decided he’d probably follow her even if she was pissed. She’d probably be justified anyways, as she was rarely genuinely pissed at Ben anymore, so he’d always fix whatever he did and keep following Her. Right into hellfire, where he’d still be happy, because She’d be with him. 

The Starlight Fund was a completely desecrated fucking shithole. There was a truly fucking terrible amount of pro-Homelander graffiti—one even depicting every member of the Seven shitting on a group of Starlighters—and Ben was pretty goddamn sure the scraping he was hearing was rats. 

“This is gross,” She muttered at his side, and he snorted. 

“Lot of fucking doodles on the walls,” Ben pulled Her closer into him, speaking into her ear. “That one,” he pointed to a drawing of Fish-Boy ripping his shirt off to display disgustingly ripped gills. “Is my favorite.” 

She hummed. “Because of the gills, or the muscles?” 

“Because he looks like he just shat his damn pants.” 

She gave a small laugh, and Ben wished this could be it. That they had come here to make fun of something stupid and now they were leaving. But Hughie turned around, offering Ben his phone with a shaking hand, and Ben had to set his shield down and take it. Had to feel Her tense again, and hear her chew her lip as Ben frowned at the screen. 

“I already entered the number,” Hughie rubbed the back of his next, words soft and nervous. Part of Ben wanted to hit the idiot, because it wasn’t fucking Hughie who was in danger. If She could hold herself together, this fucking pussy should be able to as well. But Ben just grunted—hitting Hughie wouldn’t really help anything, and She’d probably just get more tense—and let him continue. “You just have to call it. Say you’re, uh, you, and ask to speak to Homelander.” 

“And no fighting, once he gets here.” Annie added. “We’re just distracting him. We can’t fight him, not now.” 

“Why the fuck not,” Ben scowled. “We’d be doing the world a damn favor, killing him-“ 

“He might leave,” She said, finger’s tapping against Ben’s own. “He might just blast into the air and go find Ryan and this would’ve been for nothing. Ben,” She looked up at him, eyes desperate. “Don’t fight him. Promise you won’t fight him.”

“Fine.” 

“Ben-“ 

“I swear I won’t kill Homelander right now, as much as he fucking deserves it.” Ben grunted, still looking at Her. “This is fucking stupid.” 

“I know,” She gave him a tight smile. “Thank you for doing it anyway.” 

“If shit starts to even look like it’s headed south-“ 

“Then we can leave and you can tell me about how you were right for a whole decade.” 

Ben nodded, still holding Her gaze. In Rome? 

In Rome, She squeezed his hand over her body. And you can fuck me every day for that decade as well. And the one after it. 

Ben kissed Her, long and slow, not giving a fuck that Hughie and Annie were watching, or that they were surrounded by rats, or that the awful graffiti and awareness of Homelander arriving soon was hanging over their heads. He kissed her like he had all the time in the world. 

“I’m ready,” She whispered against him. “I’ll be okay.” 

He didn’t move for a second, just sharing Her breath. But she pulled back first with a deep sigh and buried Her face into Ben’s chest, arms wrapped around him. Waiting. 

Ben called the number, and it picked up on the third ring. 

An overly sweet woman’s voice echoed through the room. “Thank you for calling Vought International’s Crime Tip Line! All of our operators are currently busy, please stay on the line until one becomes available! You are seventh in line.” 

The voice was sounded fucking robotic when it had said seventh, and Ben wasn’t sure that the lady had been real either. “What the fuck was that.” 

Annie sighed. “We’re on hold.” 

“The tip line?” She twisted around, still leaning against Ben, to give Hughie an exasperated look. “Really?” 

“I couldn’t find Ashely’s phone number,” Hughie muttered. “Apparently she kept getting protest calls from Starlighters, and it overwhelmed their servers.” 

“Mallory couldn’t get it?” 

“It’s being kept secret. We’d have to do a freedom of information request, and that would’ve tipped them off.” 

“Please stay on the line, your call is very important to us. You are sixth in line.” The voice disappeared again, returning so sort of too-happy fucking elevator music. She sighed, slumping slightly against Ben.  

“I guess we’re waiting.” 

It took fifteen fucking minutes. Ben’s shield was still on the floor, and he’d pick it up when he had to but right now was about holding Her properly. At some point Butcher called to yell about where the bloody hell the signal was, and Annie had to explain what was happening. Butcher called them fucking cunt idiots, and hung up. She stayed against Ben the whole time, tapping against his arm over Her stomach, staring into the distance. When that goddamn music finally came to an abrupt halt the whole room froze, Hughie and Annie looking up from where they’d been sitting against the wall. 

“Thank you for calling Vought’s crime tip line, my name is Gavin. How can I be of service.” “I’m Soldier Boy,” Ben said bluntly, ignoring Her flat look of Really, Ben? “I want to speak with Homelander.” 

“Sir, this line is not a joke. Our policy requires me to report prank calls as crimes themselves-“ 

“This isn’t a goddamn prank.” Ben hissed. “I am Soldier Boy. I need to fucking speak to Homelander now, and if you report me as a crime I will find you and fucking kill you.” 

“Sir, may I please have your location-“ 

She had turned to stand in front of Ben, tugging his arm, pointing a finger to herself. Me. She gave him an urgent look. Say you have me. Use my supe name. And my real name. 

“I have the Anomaly.” This was fucking annoying, they shouldn’t be doubting him. He grunted Her full name, and she nodded at him. “She’s with me. And I want to fucking talk to Homelander. Now.” 

The line was silent. Ben glared at Her. That didn’t fucking work. 

She shook Her head. Wait for it. 

The line clicked, and a new voice—less bored and uninterested and a lot more fearful—spoke through the speaker. “This is Ashley Barrett, CEO of Vought International. I understand you’re claiming to be Soldier Boy?” 

“I fucking am Soldier Boy. Let me fucking speak to Homelander now.” 

The line was quiet again. “And you have her?” 

“Christ on a cross, fucking yes.” Ben scowled at Her. This is goddamn stupid. 

She shrugged. I’m just impressed you haven’t totally crushed the phone yet. 

Ben looked back to his hand, and found that his grip on Hughie’s phone was starting to cause cracks to form in the screen. He glared at Her. Shut up. 

The line clicked again, and everyone froze. Her heart was going to push out of her chest, and when the static sounded again Ben wasn’t sure it was even beating anymore. 

“Soldier Boy.” Homelander’s voice was so fucking weak. Even crackling through the phone and making Her freeze, he was a fucking pathetic pussy. “Is she really there? With you?” 

Ben looked at Her, face full of goddamn fear. He could stop this. Ben could hang up and Homelander would never have to step foot near Her again. She wouldn’t have to be afraid ever again, because Ben would take her as far away as he fucking could, and She’d be safe. 

He’d never hated anything more than having to say, “Yes.” 

“I want to talk to her.” Homelander snapped. “Give me to her. Now.”

She extended her hand, and blinked at Ben once. I’ll be fine.

It was a bold faced fucking lie. Her heart was going a goddamn mile a minute, and her face was blank, eyes glazed slightly. 

Ben glowered at Her. If anything goes wrong, if he say one fucking thing out of damn line, we’re leaving. 

Her smile didn’t meet her eyes. It was barely a smile, closer to a sad, anxious grimace with upturned lips. I know. Then her face grew gentle, with adoration painting her every feature. For him. Something unending and almost dangerous crossed Her eyes, and Ben couldn’t look away from her. I trust you. 

Ben nodded. You burn, I burn. It wasn’t what the Thing wanted Ben to tell her, but it was close. Better than telling Her nothing. 

You burn, I burn. She wrapped her hand around the phone, taking it from Ben as he picked up his shield. Let’s fucking do this. 

“If someone doesn’t say something-“ 

“Homelander,” Her voice was stronger than Ben expected. Her face was painfully empty—every piece of light in her gone as she became hollow—but her voice was even and controlled. “It’s me.” 

Homelander breathed Her name, and Ben’s blood went cold. He shouldn’t be allowed to say Her name. Not fucking ever, not like that. “Where the fuck are you. What have they done to you? Why have you been hiding-“ 

“I’m okay.” She wouldn’t look at Ben, gaze fixed on the floor. Fucking empty. “They haven’t hurt me. Just, I wasn’t allowed to see you. Or talk to you. They said just this once.” 

“Tell me where the fuck they’re keeping you,” Homelander hissed Her name. Ben was pretty sure she was going to throw up. “I’ll come find you, you can come home, and we’ll be together.” 

“I can’t,” She whispered, fingers starting to curl with smoke. “They’ll get mad-“ 

“So I’ll fucking kill them! I can do whatever I want, and it’s not like people will miss them! Just tell me where you are and I’ll come save you.” 

They needed to leave, right now. Her face was bloodless, Her breaths were mechanical, and Ben knew they needed to leave. She shouldn’t be doing this, she shouldn’t have to do anything for these fucking pussies, they should just fucking leave- 

Homelander said Her name again, and his voice had gone cold. “If you don’t tell me where you are, I’ll find your pretty little sister and have her tell me. I know they’ve been making you hide. I know they’ve been hurting you. And if your sister loves you half as much as I do, she’ll want you to come back to me. Where you’re safe.”

Her eyes snapped up to Ben’s. She wasn’t trying to tell him anything, just looking at him. Her brain was turning, spinning, moving faster and faster with Her heart. Trying to find something, somewhere, that Ben didn’t understand. A way out, a way forward, some sort of fucking plan to get through this. He’d promised he’d let Her do this. No matter how much he hated it, Ben had swore. She’d do what she needed to do, and—as long as Homelander never fucking touched Her again—he’d stand with her as she did. 

Ben’s jaw clenched, and he held her gaze. I’m here. I’m right fucking here. 

There was more he needed to say. There was so much fucking more Ben needed to tell Her. But that was enough, because She nodded. I know. 

“They took me to the Starlight Fund-“ The words had barely left Her mouth when the line clicked dead. The room was silent, so painfully fucking silent, and She was staring at Ben. He needed to tell Her now, the Thing needed to get its fucking shit together and be damn clear about what it fucking was Ben needed to tell Her, so he could tell Her now- 

The roof crashed open, and Homelander dropped into the middle of the room. Cape and suit and so fucking weak. 

He breathed Her name, not even looking around the rest of the fucking room. “I fucking found you.”

Ben almost scoffed. Homelander hadn’t fucking found Her. She’d goddamn called him. Told him where she was. He must have made some sort of sound, because cold blue eyes shot to him.

“Soldier Boy. Thank you for bringing Her back to me.” 

Never in his fucking life had Ben hated someone more. She wouldn’t look at him, staring at Homelander and taking shallow breaths. Not touching Ben. Her back was too straight, all the smoke was gone from Her body, and Ben couldn’t hear Her heart. Like it has just fucking stopped.

“Homelander,” Annie stood up from the wall, a truly violent glare on Her face. It almost made Ben respect her, the contempt with which she spoke and the loathing in her eyes. “You’re not taking her. You can talk. That’s it.” 

“Oh, shut up, you boring fucking Girl Scout.” Homelander dismissed Annie with a hand, still not looking away from Her and Ben. “This is a family matter, you and Campbell can go fuck in a closet for all I care.” 

“We’re not going anywhere-“ 

“I don’t care,” Homelander finally shot Annie a bored glare. “But if you even try and interfere with this, I’ll laser Campbell’s dick off. Now,” he looked back to Her. “Let’s go.” 

She shook her head. She wasn’t fucking breathing. “I- I cant-“ 

“Yes you fucking can,” Homelander hissed. “You’re not mortal anymore, you’re a god like me. None of these weaklings could stop us. Soldier Boy,” he jerked his head at Ben. “Could even come with us. We could be a family.” 

“I’m not going fucking anywhere with you,” Ben could hear the drums. Distant, in his control, but building in time with his heart. “And we are not a fucking family.” 

“But you’re my father,” Homelander shook his head—as if he thought Ben could forget—and whined like a pathetic fucking child. “Don’t you want to meet your grandson? Be there for the birth of our,” he gestured to Her, and Ben was going to rip his fucking hand off. ”Next child? You’d never have to miss anything again. We’d be together.” 

“Homelander,” She was whispering, she was afraid, and Ben couldn’t do more than press his foot into Hers. Show Her he was there. He wasn’t going fucking anywhere. Slowly, her breathing became audible again—even if she remained frozen—and Ben didn’t take his eyes off Homelander. “Please. I just want to talk.” 

“We can talk at home.” Homelander took a step forward, and She flinched. 

“No. Please, I don’t-“ 

“What have they been telling you,” Homelander whirled on Annie and Hughie. “Have you been turning her against me? Poisoning her damn brain against me?” 

“They haven’t,” She pleaded, and that was it. Ben took a long step forward, until he was right at Her side. Homelander was too close, she was fucking breaking, and he’d stay right here until this was over. Then he’d hold Her until she smiled again, even if it took a hundred fucking years. But Homelander wasn’t going to make Her weak. Nobody was allowed to make Her weak, not as long as Ben was fucking alive. “Homelander, I just want to talk-“ 

“Fine,” he turned back to Her, face tight and furious. Glancing once at Ben, now right at Her side, before continuing. “Let’s talk. You’ve been hiding. I’ve been looking for you, and you’ve been hiding from me. They-“ a gloved hand pointed to Annie and Hughie. “Have been hiding you from me. It’s time to be a big girl and stop hiding. Time to come home so I don’t have to keep fucking cleaning up bodies while I look for you.” 

She swallowed. “Bodies?" 

“None of the workers at Tek Knight’s stupid fucking sex club would tell me where you went, so they all had to die. A bunch of fucking Firecracker supporters were demanding justice, so I had to kill them too.” 

“No-“ 

“Please,” Homelander rolled his eyes, taking another step. “It was for you. To protect you. They wanted to fucking draw and quarter you and I stopped them! I saved you, again.” 

“You didn’t save me,” She whispered, taking an unsteady step back. “You hurt me. You-“ She was shaking her head, voice growing louder. “You hurt me. You hurt me.” She was screaming, and Ben had never heard a worse sound. It was shrill, and unsure, and fucking terrified. “You hurt me-“ 

“Oh, grow the fuck up,” Homelander sneered. “You were nothing. You had no one. You’re lucky I even fucking looked at you, let alone saw something of worth! I made you everything you deserved to be, I fucking trusted you with my heart, and you just pulled it out and stomped all over it!” 

“No-“ 

Homelander raised his hand, and She fell silent. She was never fucking silent. “But I forgive you. I’m going to be the bigger person, and forgive you. We both made mistakes, I’m not blameless here, and I forgive you. We’ll get through this,” Homelander lowered his hand for her to take, saying Her name. “We’ll get through this together.” 

“No.” She breathed out. “You hurt me. I’m not going anywhere with you. Ever.” 

Homelander scoffed. “Stop being a fucking whining child,” he said Her name again, and moved forward, She moved back, and Ben blocked Homelander in his path.

Homelander blinked, but the shock on his face barely lasted a second. “You could come with us, Soldier Boy. You don’t have to keep working with those fucking idiots,” he jerked his head to Annie and Hughie in the corner. “Working for William Butcher. He betrayed you before, and he’d do it again. I’d never betray you. I’d make you fucking proud. We just have to leave together.” 

“I will never,” Ben spat, fist clenching at his side. “Be fucking proud of a pussy like you. A weak, spineless, pathetic fucking excuse for a man.” 

Something like hurt flashed across Homelander’s face. He’d thought Ben would agree. He’d thought Ben would fucking hand Her over. Homelander had truly fucking believed that Ben would ever let him fucking near Her again. 

“Fine. Have it your way.” Homelander looked past Ben, and said Her name. “Let’s fucking go. Now.” 

She must have shaken her head—Ben couldn’t turn and look, he couldn’t take his eyes off Homelander for a fucking second—because Homelander’s jaw ticked. 

“Now.” 

“Never.” She hissed. “I’m never fucking going anywhere with you again.” 

“This is your last chance to do this easy.” Homelander snapped. “We can be civilized about this. It doesn’t have to go this way.” 

“You fucking heard the woman,” Ben sneered, and Homelander looked back to him. “No.” 

Homelander sighed. “I didn’t want to do this. I told Sage it wouldn’t be necessary.” 

“Sage?” Her voice shaking. Ben hated not touching her, he hated that Her heart still was weak in her chest, he hated all of this stupid fucking shit plan. 

“I’m going to have to tell her she was right,” Homelander continued, frowning into the air. “She’s such an annoying fucking bitch when she’s right. But if you’re not going to chose the easy way, then let’s do the fucking hard way.” 

Annie was moving slowly from the corner, keeping Hughie behind her. “What the hell are you talking about.” 

“In January, after we found out you,” he gestured at Her. “Were alive, Sage said we’d need a way to eliminate Soldier Boy. I told her that was dumb, that when it came time you’d come back to the right side, to me, your son, but she was a real fucking pest until I agreed to her stupid idea.” The pussy was fucking monologuing, glaring around the room with his hands on his hips and sharp, exasperated movements. “She scheduled the meeting, said it didn’t fucking matter what actually happened as long as she got what she needed. I said you wouldn’t be that stupid, but you were. You told her exactly what that French asshole was using to stop you from going all boom without your leash there with you, and she locked herself in a lab for a whole month. It was unbelievably inconvenient. When she finally came out, she gave me this.” Homelander reached back somewhere, pulling out a small, seemingly empty vial. “And said to use it first chance. I don’t want to use it, but,” he sighed, shaking his head. “If you won’t listen to reason, I have to.” 

“Homelander,” Annie hissed. “What’s in there. What the fuck are you going to do-“ 

“Gas. It’s fucking gas. I was getting there.” Homelander rolled his eyes at Ben. “Women. Always so pushy.” 

The drums were louder. Homelander was only a half step from Ben. Holding gas. His head was pounding, hitting only a half-beat out of time with Ben’s heart. Over the rush of blood in his ears—vision stark and violent and red—Ben could barely hear Her speak. It was under her breath, and barely audible regardless. 

“No.” 

Homelander ignored Her, giving Ben a toothy, awful fucking smile. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in,” he paused, glancing back down at the vial. “Three days? I honestly just couldn't pay attention to Sage’s fucking lecture.” 

Time moved slow. Homelander’s hand went to the vial, the drums were a fraction away from taking over but still too far, and She screamed. A high, loud, raw scream that tore through the world. It might have been a word, or Ben’s name, but it didn’t matter because it was Her. Screaming, fucking breaking. 

The world broke with Her, and something exploded. A bone-rattling sound of destruction echoed through Ben, through Homelander, through everything as the room was almost blindingly lit. The vial cracked open, glass melting in Homelander’s hand, but Ben didn’t pass out. A small wisp of steam pushed into the air, Ben felt faint, and then it was gone. For a split second he could see all of Homelander’s face, with slight wrinkles and lines and wide eyes. Afraid. Homelander was afraid. Frozen, with a parted mouth and a slack face of terror, his gaze fixated just beyond Ben. 

At Her. 

Homelander was blasted backwards—fire arcing through the air and into his chest—and right through the dust-covered, paint-peeling wall. The building rumbled, the air was waving around Ben, and the whole world was electric. He didn’t have to turn to know it was Her. She was burning, and the whole world was singing for Her. It was alive, the air crackling and everything illuminated for Her. 

Ben had never seen anything like Her. All these fucking heroes pranced around like dancing fucking monkey’s, bragging about god-like power and being chosen. Homelander called himself a god. Said nobody was like him, nobody was as powerful as he was. Moaned about how nobody was his equal, how even Ben only just matched his power. Ben could wipe out Homelander’s powers, Homelander could knock out Ben, Ben could punch him and make him bleed and Homelander could leave a temporary cut on Ben’s skin. They could keep trading blows, measuring their dicks, and stand around all fucking day to argue like pussies about who was more powerful. 

Or they could just look at Her. 

Because She was a fucking god. 

Bathed in white flames tinted purple, floating off the ground, and burning. This wasn’t the bomb in Ben’s chest, running through her body like electricity in a wire. This wasn’t heat that lived in Homelander’s eyes, focused and hot but limited. This fire, bright and hot like a hurricane, ripping through the world and everything between it, was Her. Only Her. It wasn’t nuclear, or artificial, or confined. It was wild and feral and pure fucking power. Her. 

Ben had to fucking move. 

“Go!” He shouted the order to Annie and Hughie, still pressed against the wall. “Fucking move! Go!” 

Annie nodded, grabbing Hughie arm and pulling him with her to the exit. They’d start the car, but they wouldn’t leave Her. They might leave Ben, but they wouldn’t leave Her. Nobody with a heart would leave Her. Not ever, not here. Not with Homelander. 

And Ben had to fucking get Her out. Fast. 

Homelander was staggering to his feet—a few yards from the building in the broad daylight—and She had hurt him. She’d fucking marred him. Blond hair was tinted black with ash, one blue eye was milky, and his cruel face was half-melted. Twisted with scars and fucking hideous. 

And She wasn’t done.

She had landed on the ground and shrugged off her jacket—whole body still alight as the world bent and burned around her—before vaulting past Ben, out into the street. He roared Her name after her, but she didn’t look back. Homelander was almost fully stable, touching a hand to where She’d hit him, and Ben had to fucking go.

He followed Her in long, sprinting bounds, and reached them just before Her fist landed. Right on Homelander’s burns, blasting him back another twenty fucking feet. 

Christ, She was fucking perfect. 

Ben reached Her, grabbing her arms and ignoring the pain of the fire against his skin. He healed fast—faster than Homelander—and in the adrenaline he wasn’t able to be certain, but the flames felt duller than usual on his hands. Not meant to hurt him. 

He hissed Her name, trying to pull her with him. Back to the car. “We’ve got to go, right fucking now.”

She yanked Her arm from his grip. “Ryan’s not out.” 

“Ryan?” Ben gaped at Her. “What the fuck-“ 

“The signal didn’t go off. Everyone’s still in the tower. If we leave he goes back to the tower, and we’re assfucked.” 

“I don’t give a shit-“ 

“Ben,” She grabbed his face between Her burning hands, and Ben was goddamn sure it should’ve hurt. But it didn’t, it just felt warm. “This is it. This is what I need to do. And I’m fucking doing it.” 

He couldn’t stop Her. She wasn’t breaking anymore, she wasn’t in danger now—not like She had been before—and Ben was never going to fucking leave Her. “You burn, I burn.” 

She nodded. “Let’s fucking burn.” 

Ben needed to tell Her. She was dropping her arms, turning away, and he needed to tell Her. He was so fucking close to knowing, to being able to recognize that- 

Homelander blasted forward, landing only a few feet from Her and Ben. His words were low, cold. Angry. “You fucking bitch. We’re going to have a very long conversation later about trust-“ 

“Shut the fuck up.” Ben pulled out his gun and shot Homelander right in the fucking mouth. 

It didn’t kill him—they weren’t that lucky—but it worked goddamn wonders in making his words die in his throat. In giving Ben a chance to punch him in the throat, making him cough the bullet out and giving Her a chance to kick him square in the chest. It was a smooth hit, not strong but wrapped in fire that seared right through Homelander’s stupid fucking suit. Ben slammed the blunt end of his shield right into the exposed skin and revered in the sickly crunch of its contact. 

Homelander roared as his eyes began to grow red, aimed at Her, and Ben’s fist was just fucking fast enough to clock Homelander’s jaw. Hard enough to turn his head, to make the laser cut through the air into a glass building. 

She realized it at the same time Ben did, exchanging a simultaneous look of Fuck. We’re outside. 

No casualties, She narrowed her eyes at him. I back Homelander up. You blast him. 

Ben frowned, ducking under a weak punch, thrown by Homelander at what he imagined was supposed to be Ben’s face. You said not now. He didn’t know why the fuck he was arguing with Her. This wasn’t something at all damn worth it. But Ben still waited for Her answer, and the moment She gave the clear, he was going to fucking kill this pussy. 

We’re improvising, Benjamin. Her face was set, determined. Ready? 

Ben nodded, and turning to see Homelander right in his fucking face. Up close, even as the lasers built in Homelander’s eyes, the state of his wound was fucking disgusting. 

“I fucking-“ 

There was no chance to find out exactly what Homelander was fucking, because She dove at him—face wrathful, a fucking inferno—and they went flying through the air. Over the street, away from the gathered pedestrians, onto the manicured lawn of Vought Tower. People were screaming, scrambling away, and those already on the sidelines were watching through phones, flinching as Ben stalked past them. She could hold Her own, but he needed to get there. Get to Her. 

The grass of the lawn was smoking, and Ben felt like he was walking through a goddamn swamp as he approached them. She had twisted around—onto Homelander’s back with Her arms locked around his throat—and was growing brighter and brighter as his bellows turned strangled and choked. The pussy still had to fucking breathe like anyone else, but smoke was curling into his lungs as Her arms burned through his throat. 

Good. 

The drums were back, building and building, and light was starting to shine in Ben’s chest. He had a shot. A clear fucking shot. He’d hit Her, but she’d be fine, and then she’d be safe forever. 

Any hesitation—weak and fearful for Her at the top of Ben’s chest—was killed when She looked at him. 

Do it. 

The drums fell into time, and Ben’s vision went white. Homelander’s roar sounded through the air, and the world became something far away as the bomb went off. Ripping through Ben’s chest with a vengeance, through the air with an atomic boom. 

When the world became clear, Homelander wasn’t ash or a mortal body on the floor. He was gone. They were both gone. 

Ben screamed Her name. It wasn’t a roar, or a bellow, or a growl, or anything other than a scream. Where the fuck did She go. Why wasn’t She here, with him. Ben had failed Her, he had fucking failed her, and he couldn’t hear Her heart or see her beautiful face and where the goddamn fucking hell was She-

He could hear his name. Her voice, carried on the wind, was yelling his name. Ben looked up, just in time to see Her falling from the sky, a quickly dying comet, just a few feet to his left. 

Ben caught Her, shield clattering to the ground. He’d always fucking catch Her. And when their bodies collided, Ben could feel Her. Afraid. Every fiber and cell of Her body and mind, made of pure, unbridled fucking fear. Frozen fear, hollow and frigid in Her body. 

When She spoke, Her voice wasn’t full and furious anymore. “He took off, took me with him. I burned his dick and he dropped me, but he’ll be back-“ 

“Let’s fucking go,” Ben didn’t release Her, turning back to the Starlight Fund. If he was fast, fucking ran, they could get the fuck out now because Ben wasn’t going to survive another goddamn second of there being a chance he could lose Her. Not when he was certain this was Her fear in him. 

But She tugged at his arms, trying to get out of his hold. “Ryan, we need to make sure Ryan’s out-“ 

“No-“ 

“Ben, please.” She squeezed his bicep, and Ben looked down at Her. Safe, unharmed in his arms. He couldn’t fucking lose Her- “We just need to keep him occupied. I’ll be fine.” 

“You’re out of fire-“ 

“It’ll come back,” She didn’t sound sure. “I’m fine, he didn’t get me-“ 

“That was too fucking close-“ 

“Ben,” She was pleading, tugging at his shirt. “We have to. You promised-“ 

He snapped Her name. “You’re in danger-“ 

“I’ll go. I’ll go find them in the tower, and you keep Homelander here. Please. We don’t have time to argue-“ 

He wanted to tell Her no. Ben wanted to tell her that’s fucking insane, stay here, or don’t goddamn leave, don’t fucking go where I can’t follow you. But she was so fucking stubborn. It was one of the infinite things he loved about Her, but fuck it was pissing him off. She wouldn’t leave—be useless as She’d call it—and Ben couldn’t let Her fight Homelander. Not when he could feel her painful fear, and there wasn’t even smoke in the air. So he grunted, lowering Her onto the sidewalk. 

“Thank you,” She whispered, and that deep thing in Her eyes was back. It was in Ben, now, and it was peaceful and eternal in his brain. It was so strong, and wrapped around Ben’s every sense, making the world clear and everything alive. 

“Wait,” Ben grabbed Her arm, stopping her just a second. “Take this.”

She blinked at Ben’s gun, shoved into Her hand, before looking back to him with a nod. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“Stay safe.” He muttered, and She gave him a small smile. 

“I always do, Ben.” 

The thing he couldn’t understand inside of Her was bigger than the world. A world that, for a second, was just them. Her, fucking perfect, and Ben. With Her. When She started to walk away, into the tower, the whole world was going with Her. 

She looked back at him once, and Ben realized that the Thing had said it. Somewhere, when She had been in his arms, the Thing had found words and he couldn’t fucking remember what they were. He had to focus, to grab them back to him so he yell them after Her, so she could hear- 

Homelander dropped with a crack on the pavement, and the Thing’s moment of clarity was gone.

Now Ben had a fucking job to do. 

He was brutal. This wasn’t the fucking time to pull punches, to feel anything outside of hatred or a thirst for blood. Ben had to keep Homelander here, and he would. He would beat him fucking bloody until he was just a pathetic, whimpering fucking pile of bones and skin. People were filming, and he’d let them. Everyone should see Ben paint Homelander’s brain across the street with his shield—back in his hand—and there should be evidence of Ben peeling Homelander's burnt face off his skull. Everyone should witness how fucking weak Homelander really was, how fucking useless and desperate and evil. Homelander tried to jab at him—tried to mock him or ask where She’d gone—but all of Ben’s already thin patience was gone. He wanted Homelander to hurt, hurt the way Ben had felt Her hurt. He couldn’t take Her pain and put it into Homelander, so bashing his head open was the second best option. 

And Ben was winning. Homelander landed a few weak blows and Ben got scorched with one or two lasers he wasn’t able to dodge, but Ben was fucking winning. He’d have to thank Her, later, for how thoroughly she’d ruined Homelander’s face. Ben was pretty sure the fucker was—at least temporarily—blind in one eye. He was slower to block, turning his head more than he should, and it gave Ben a few extra hits right into his ugly fucking face. Homelander kept trying to grab something, scramble for a gun or some shit, but it wouldn’t matter. Ben was fucking winning. He’d knock the pussy unconscious and go home. Maybe even fucking kill him- 

Homelander’s mauled face shot up, and he was gone. Fucking blasting into the sky, fleeing like a goddamn coward, and Ben let him. He could’ve grabbed Homelander’s cape, pulled him back down, but the job was done. People were scattering away with screams at the remaining rumbles of an explosion Ben could only assume was the French Prick’s signal echoed through the city. He’d heard it go off, only a minute ago, but hadn’t fucking cared. Not when he could just keep hurting Homelander. And now Ben was left in the crowded street with a bunch of fucking idiots filming him. Flinching and scrambling away when he turned back to the Fund as part of his brain still looked for Her. In the crowd, somewhere off to the side, or in the remains of the Starlight Fund. He was searching for Her smile, her sharp eyes, just some sign she was there. 

Ben saw Her sunglasses. That was the only evidence that She had been here. There was smoldering wreckage and burnt grass, small fires clustered around the ruins and on the street, but this was evidence of Her. Of the perfect woman who laughed with him and never fucking faltered. 

They were broken. Tinted blue glass on the floor and bent frames. She was going to be really fucking pissed about that. For reasons Ben didn’t understand, She loved those stupid sunglasses. 

He’d buy Her new ones. He’d make sure Mallory finally started paying them, and Ben would buy her a million fucking off-brand Soldier Boy sunglasses. 

Annie and Hughie were in the car. Nobody had followed Ben into the ally—one very stupid kid had tried, but scrambled away at Ben’s glare—so Ben dropped into the backseat of the car. Alone. 

Hughie looked at him in the rearview mirror. “Uh, where-“ 

“She went after Butcher.” Ben snapped. “She’ll meet us there. Fucking go.” 

Annie and Hughie exchanged looks, and Annie pulled out her phone. Swiping through it, glancing up around Ben nervously until she found whatever the fuck she was looking for. 

“Butcher says they’re out with Ryan, and everyone’s heading back.” She showed the screen to Hughie, and he nodded. “We should go.” 

“That’s what I fucking said.” Ben muttered, and tried not to look at the place beside him. Where She’d usually be, rolling Her eyes or calling him a grump. 

The car ride back was long. Fucking longer than the car ride there. Time was stretching, fucking crawling so slow without Her there. Ben had been away from Her for less than a damn hour, and he missed Her. He missed Her so fucking much. A year ago, he’d have called himself a pussy. He’d have scoffed, sneered that he was fucking Soldier Boy. He shouldn’t miss anyone. People should miss him, and be thankful he ever looked at them in the first place. But Ben a year ago hadn’t met Her. He didn’t get it. That She was beautiful, and brilliant, and had the smartest fucking mouth he’d ever heard. That She felt like heaven and hell and Ben didn’t want to exist without Her. If being a pussy for this one perfect woman was the price Ben had to pay to have Her, he’d pay it. He’d pay anything. 

She wasn’t answering Ben’s texts. He’d messaged Her, asked her if everyone was in one piece or giving her shit for going off book, and She hadn’t answered. But that didn’t mean a fucking thing, because She kept her phone in Her jacket, which was currently smoldering ash in the remains of the Starlight Fund. He’d buy Her a new phone as well. And fucking punch Mallory in her wrinkled, sour face if they got any shit about Her destroying another phone. 

Annie and Hughie weren’t trying to talk to him. At some point Annie had put on Billy Joel, and Ben let her. He hadn’t hated his music, in the 80s, and knew that She just liked music. Any music. So it made it a little easier to pretend She was here. To pretend something wasn’t growing sick inside of Ben. 

Even as it started to rot. As everything started to feel wrong. 

Ben didn’t wait for the car to fully stop before opening the door. He didn’t even bother to grab his shield. Nobody else could pick it up anyway. Hughie gave a weak protest as he stepped out, but Ben saw Annie shake her head in his periphery and Hughie’s mouth snapped shut. It was a smart fucking choice. 

She’d had the keycard. The door was locked and She had taken the keycard. So Ben had to wait—glowering at the parked Pussy Mobile a few spots down from Butcher’s car—for Annie and Hughie to let him in. Stand behind them stiffly in the elevator with his arms crossed, and just fucking wait. 

“Butcher said we’d debrief in the dining hall,” Hughie mumbled. “I don't think he's happy with us. With the whole, uh, fighting Homelander thing.”

Butcher could fucking suck Ben’s dick. 

The doors opened, and Ben shoved his way out of the elevator, not waiting for Hughie or Annie to keep up. His steps were long, stomping, and fast—almost a full run—but there was no fucking time. He needed to see Her. He needed to see Her right fucking now- 

He shoved the doors open, marched into the dining hall, and froze. 

Butcher and the Kid were at the table, MM and Mallory sitting across from them, their backs to Ben. Kimiko and the French Prick were at the other end of the table, in a silent conversation. There were four empty seats between them and the larger group. Two for Annie and Hughie. Two for Ben and Her. 

But She wasn’t fucking there. 

And Ben couldn’t hear Her heart. 

“Where is she,” Ben growled, and Butcher looked up at him. 

“Good work to you too, you dumb fucking cunt-“ 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben hissed. There wasn’t fucking time for this. “Where the fuck is she.” 

MM turned, frowning at Ben. “Who the hell-“ 

Ben roared Her name as Hughie and Annie pushed into the room, their hearts faltering behind him. Seeing what Ben saw. “Where the goddamn fucking hell is she!” 

Mallory was looking at him now, lips in a thin line, words clipped. “She was supposed to be with you-“

“I fucking know that!” Ben’s voice might be shaking the building. “She went inside the Tower, to find you fucking pussies. Where the hell is she?” 

“We,” MM blinked at him. “We haven’t seen her. She was supposed to be with you.” 

“Oh, shit.” Hughie whispered, and the room fell silent. 

The world was fucking ending. This was the judgement day, or apocalypse, or end of days or fucking something, because She was gone. She was gone. She’d disappeared into the fucking Tower, and she was in danger. Ben had let Her go into the tower, Ben had fucking failed Her. He should’ve gone with Her, he should’ve kept Her there and trusted her to fight, he should never have let Her go alone. She’d told him not to leave her alone, Ben had promised to keep Her safe, and now She was fucking gone. He’d failed. And nothing fucking mattered expect getting Her back. 

Ben turned roughly around to Hughie, extending an arm. “Give me the fucking keys.”

Hughie blinked at him. “Uh, why?” 

“To drive the damn car.” Ben snapped. He didn’t have the goddamn time for this shit. She was in fucking danger. “I’m going to get her. Fucking keys. Now.” 

Hughie was fumbling in his pocket—apparently not a complete fucking dumbass—but froze at Mallory’s cold words. “You’re going to stay here, Soldier Boy, until you receive further orders.” 

Ben didn’t bother to turn around. “Shove it up your ass, you fucking bitch. Keys.” 

“We don’t know where She is,” Annie said carefully. “She could’ve left the tower, could be coming back here-“ 

“Or she could be in fucking danger.” Ben’s voice was rising to a shout. “Give me the fucking keys-“ 

“Lad, if you give Soldier Boy my fuckin keys, I’ll shoot you.” 

Ben whirled to Butcher. “Shut the fuck up, you useless fucking pussy. Does fucking nobody,” he scowled around the room. “Give fuck about her but me? Do none of you care that you just fucking abandoned her?” 

You abandoned Her. It echoed in his brain, twisting around his throat. You failed Her. You left Her. 

“Of course we care,” MM snapped. “But I have to be with Butcher on this. She could be anywhere-“ 

“So fucking find her!” Ben bellowed. How could none of them fucking get it, fucking understand that She was lost, gone, alone, afraid. In fucking danger. “If you care, get off your asses and fucking find her!” 

“Frenchie,” Butcher stood, glaring at Ben. “Take Ryan to his room.” 

Ben looked away from Butcher just long enough to see the Kid watching him with wide, fearful eyes as the French Prick herded him past Ben, out the door. He glanced at Kimiko—still sat at the end of the table—and she was frowning at him. Signing something Ben didn’t fucking understand. She’d have understood. 

He looked back to Butcher, and spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m finding her. Good luck trying to fucking stop me.” 

“We will bloody find her,” Butcher snapped. “But we ain’t going to do it in a day. She’s probably fuckin fine-“ 

“She was in the fucking Tower. Are you that fucking stupid-“ 

“I ain’t stupid. I’m a realist.” Butcher held Ben’s murderous glare. “Like she is. We’ll find her, now sit the fuck down.” 

“Don’t pretend like you fucking know her. Like you’re fucking buddies and you know what she’d want-“ Kimiko was waving at Ben, trying to get his attention as he roared, and he shot her a withering glower. “What fuck is wrong with you?” 

She pointed to her phone, and reached it out for Ben to take. He snatched it from her hands—slightly thrown by the seemingly genuine sympathy and worry across her face—and looked at the screen. 

BREAKING NEWS: Vought Announces that the Homelander’s girlfriend has been recovered from Soldier Boy’s captivity.

He’d failed Her. In the worst possibly way, Ben had compelety fucking failed Her. 

The glass cracked in Ben’s grip, and he chucked the phone at Butcher. “Is that fucking enough to get you to move your pathetic fucking pussy asses, and fucking save her?” 

MM leaned over Butcher’s shoulder, reading the screen. “Fuck.” 

“What’s-“ 

Hughie’s confused words were cut off as Annie shuffled behind Ben, “I’ll check-“ Ben heard her swallow. “Oh, shit.” 

“Jesus,” Hughie whispered, and Ben’s skin crawled. Why the fuck were they just standing here. Why weren’t they moving. Fucking saving Her. 

Butcher only stared at the screen with a scowl, and Mallory stood to read the headline as well. 

“Butcher,” she said slowly. “This is-“ 

“Changes nothing.” Butcher tossed the phone back to Kimiko. “We keep on the fuckin track.” 

Ben’s whole world froze with wrath. Locking him in place. Spinning him around, stabbing into his chest, making the world painful. 

“Are you fucking insane?” Annie shouted from behind Ben. “She’s-“ 

“Nothing.” Butcher snapped. “We’ll get her back when Homelander’s in the bloody ground.” 

“Butcher, even for you-“ 

“This ain’t about me.” Butcher hissed over MM. “It’s about her.” 

“She’s not going to be our man on the inside, you psychopath!” Annie shouted. “She a fucking victim-“ 

“If we go now, Starlight, the bloody hell you think will happen?” Butcher leered at Annie, over Ben. Still unmoving, unable to move as the drums echoed in his head. “We’ll storm the fuckin castle and Homelander will just hand her over?” 

“We could,” Hughie protested, voice weak. “I mean, that’s kind of how we just got Ryan-“ 

“Homelander ain’t stupid, he’s not fallin for that trick two times in a row.” Butcher turned back to Ben. “If you’re that much of a whipped fucking idiot, Gov, we can go right now. I’ll even bloody drop you off. But they’ll see us comin, and Homelander will blast her far, far away. You wouldn’t ever even fuckin see her again.” 

“Butcher-“ 

“Let the man answer Grace.” Butcher held Ben’s gaze. “We ain’t going to stop him if he leaves, or goes after her. It’ll be her bloody funeral. Not ours.” 

He could. Ben could leave right fucking now, and find her, and then they’d leave together. He’d keep Her safe forever, do fucking anything to make her forgive him for failing her.

But a voice that sounded like Hers echoed through his brain. 

Don’t be a dumbass, Benjamin. Butcher’s right, which is annoying because now he’s going to be a cunt about it. But he’s right. 

You’ll find me. You’ll always find me, I trust you. 

I’ll see you soon. 

Butcher read Ben’s answer on his face, and nodded. “Right choice, Gov.” Something passed over Butcher’s feature, something a lot more human than Ben had ever seen. Almost understanding, almost pained. “She’s a clever lady. She’ll get through this.” 

She’ll get back to you. 

And Ben would be here. He’d get Her back, and be here to hold her and burn with her when she returned to him. 

He’d kill Homelander, and never fail Her again. 

——————

Something is wrong. 

Something is very, very wrong. 

Your eyes are closed, but nothing around you is warm. Everything is freezing, the blankets are silk instead of cotton, there’s a strange smell of factory-made coconut in the air, and you’re alone. Ben isn’t here. 

That’s what’s wrong. 

Ben isn’t here. 

You’re suddenly afraid to open your eyes. You don’t remember what happened, you don’t know where you are, and Ben isn’t here. Your mind is moving slower than you need it to, trying to pull back bits and pieces to figure out what happened. Rolling a loop of where are you, why isn't Ben here.

Why does everything feel so wrong. 

You ran into the Tower. You know that much, Ben had given you his gun and you’d ran into the Tower before Homelander could return. You’d almost said it, he’d looked at you like you were his whole world and you almost let yourself say Ben. Ben, I love you. But that had felt final. You didn’t want final, you wanted Ben. So you’d just left. 

You’d told Ben you’d find Butcher. You’d meant to find Butcher. You swear, now, in this strange cold place, that you’d really meant to just find Butcher. But you hadn’t. The blueprints of Vought tower had flashed in your head, along with a small, persistent voice asking you Where was Sage? In all of this, with you and Ben destroying the front lawn, where was Sage? 

There was a security room on the first floor. Actually, there were two security rooms on the first floor. One was labeled such, with faded notes about electrical wiring scratched onto the copy Mallory had shown everyone. The other was identical, with no notes but the same design, labeled office 2. 

You hadn’t been able to find an office 1. Only an office 2. 

So you’d headed there first. 

The door was locked, and your fire wasn’t coming. Homelander had taken you into the sky, higher and higher and away with hands gripping your arm around him, and everything had frozen. It wasn’t the chill of the high wind, it was your blood, your skin, your head. Everything became cold and the fire had started to flicker, all your control over it waning. You’d told Ben you’d hit Homelander’s dick, but he’d just dropped you. He’d made a surprised sound from his throat you’d never heard, and his arms had grown slack around you. You’d pushed off of him and fallen, any fire left dying as you’d dropped through the air. And now it was asleep. Not gone. Still under your skin, still running through your body in the way you’d come to trust, but dormant. Unwilling to come out, even when you’d desperately needed it. 

So you’d shot the handle off. 

You remember that clearly. You’d looked around the hallway, empty as people either hid from Ben and Homelander or went to watch them, thought fuck it, and shot Ben’s gun. 

The door had swung open, and Sage had been right where you expected her. 

She hadn’t turned from the monitors, and said your name in a bored tone. “You’re early.” 

“I’m early,” you’d repeated, raising the gun to a mediocre aim at Sage’s head. You remember wondering if Ben would cum on the spot if you asked him to teach you how to properly use a gun. “There’s no possible way you planned this.” 

Sage had shrugged. “It was more of an outline. A hypothetical. One of many. I honestly didn’t think you’d go with this option, but here we are.”

“Which one did you think we’d go with?” You’d been unable to help yourself from asking. You’d had to know just how predictable your plans were, so you could adjust. Be more erratic. Maybe you’d put Butcher in a dress, really have fun with it. 

She’d turned, spun in her chair to look at you with a small, cold smile. “My money was on you sacrificing yourself, trading yourself in. Didn’t anticipate Soldier Boy stopping you, but I’ve adapted. And now we’re here.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about.” Your hands had been shaking, and you’d looked behind Sage at the monitors. You could see Ben and Homelander on the lawn, and—running through a polished hallway—your team. With Ryan Butcher, failing to shoot at a single camera. You'd yell at Butcher about that later, when this was done. This was almost done.

“In January, when we met for the first time, you confused me.” Sage had tilted her head at you. “That’s impressive. Nobody confuses me. Once I’d found out who exactly you were, Homelander selectively filling in pieces as I figured out the rest myself, I still didn’t fully understand. Once again, impressive.” 

“Oh, gee, thanks.” You’d kept your eyes on Sage, but clocked every movement on the monitors. So close. “You really know how to make a girl blush.” 

“I’m serious. I couldn’t figure you out. You should’ve run when you got out. You’re a smart woman, you should’ve run. But you didn’t, which displays remarkable stupidity. You’d aligned with William Butcher, but seemed to hold qualms with his methods. And your deal with Soldier Boy, the cherry on top. In January you were,” She’d paused, frowned at you before continuing. “Strange. Not friends, not quite, but not simply hateful. Certainly not apathetic. Enough for me to worry about Soldier Boy truly being a problem. And then, by the end of the same month, he seemed to truly care for you. If anything, you managed to baffle me more.” 

“If you say impressive again,” you’d snapped at her. “I’ll fucking shot you.” 

“And you’re much more violent than I anticipated. Yet another thing that threw me, because all signs would point to you being a pacifist. But I figured it out. I found the thing I’d been missing. The club-“ She sighed at your shocked expression. “Please don’t get caught on that. I was separated from Vought for over a decade, I am well aware of the Renegade Room. I haven’t told Homelander about it, I won’t, but I’m aware. Of the club, and your plan with Butcher. That helped me figure it out. You care. About humans, about everyone. No matter how they treat you, how they collectively wrong you and fail you, you care.” 

You’d shrugged. “Kant said never to treat people as means to an end.” 

“Kant also said man must be disciplined.” Sage had shot back. “But you’re not interested in that. You’re forgiving. You tried to discipline Soldier Boy, but then you let him stop you. I didn’t think anything would stop you. I’m still trying to piece that part together fully, but I know how to adapt to an empty picture. I know, for all your care, something with Soldier Boy is different. And you can stop looking at the monitors.” 

You’d blinked at her. “The monitors-“ 

“I know Butcher has Homelander’s son. I’ve sent people to collect them. Right now this is about you. You, Homelander, and Soldier Boy. See,” she’d looked at the monitors with narrowed eyes. “Sometimes I outdo even myself. When I developed the gas for Soldier Boy, I didn’t think it would be this important. But, fuck, those months in the lab around about to pay off. Because-“ 

Hindsight coming to you now, you probably should’ve let Sage finish her speech. Figured out how this was going to pay off for her, and how it probably wasn’t in your favor. But you remember hearing people to collect them and gas for Soldier Boy and a ringing sound starting in your ears. So you’d shot Sage in the face. 

This part was harder to remember. This part felt painful. 

You think you’d sat in the chair. Pushed Sage’s body to the floor and sat. Or maybe you’d just stood at her side. Or behind the chair. 

No matter what, you’d looked at the monitors. You’d seen Noir and The Deep. Not being distracted by A-Train, but running through a hall that looked far too similar to the one your team was in. You’d stopped them. Somehow you’d stopped them because you remember the relief when they turned around. It might have been a phone call, maybe there was a walkie talkie, but it didn’t matter because you’d stopped them. And Ryan had gotten out. 

Then you’d seen Ben and Homelander, still fighting. Ben throwing steady, powerful punches and slamming his shield into Homelander’s body. Then you’d see Homelander reach for something. 

The gas. 

Homelander had been reaching for more gas. And Ben hadn’t been seeing it. 

You’d screamed. You’d grabbed Sage’s phone, or walkie talkie, or just screamed louder. Loud enough to be heard. 

You were in the Vought building. Alone. Homelander could come find you. 

And then Sage had stood up, and you’d been confused. You’d definitely just shot her. 

She’d pulled out a vial. 

And now you were here. 

In Vought Tower. Or a warehouse. Or a lab. Or underground.

Cold. 

Alone. 

You aren’t chained to anything. Your mouth has a gag around it, so you can’t speak, but you can move. You’re dressed. No shoes, but a shirt, loose pants. Underwear. You can’t hear anyone, only the hum of a fan. A lot of fans. It’s really, really cold. 

If Sage sent you here, she should know better. She should know cold doesn't matter. Your fire came from you, not the air around you. You could, if you tried, burn all of the arctic circle while standing at the north pole. But it was still so cold. 

And bright. When you peel your eyes open, blinking and wiping at them—your hands are cuffed and wrapped in big red mittens, so you can’t really accomplish much with them—the room is almost blinding. It might be because of how long you were out, how your head was pounding and aching when you’d woken, but it was so bright. 

You don’t recognize the room. Your eyes adjust quickly, the pounding is already gone and your exhaustion is leaving fast, but you can’t figure out where you are. It wasn’t the white room, or a new lab, but an apartment. A truly awfully decorated apartment, where everything was glossy marble and silk and sleek furniture that didn’t look usable in any way. The bed you’re on is low, the frame made of iron and the mattress feeling like it’s sinking into the floor. It’s not bright anymore, not as the effects of Sage’s gas—what you were assuming was Sage’s gas—were dissipating by the second. It’s low lit, too low lit. Everything is cast in a yellow glow, and the lamps and ceiling lights feel like they’re more for pure decoration than actual practical use. Another part of this hideous, unnerving picture. There’s a lot of red. A lot of white. A lot of blue.

Your heart drops. Deep into your stomach where it churns around with bile and fear. You know where you are. You know exactly where you are. Everything is too clean, too modern, and too impractical. Like it’s been designed to be gaudy, high-brow, and ostentatious. There’s a white marble statue of a bald eagle, and a painting of George Washington on the Delaware that you hope isn’t an original. 

But it could be. Because this is Homelander’s room. 

You need to run. Your hands are confined and your fire is asleep, but your feet aren’t chained. So you can run. Or jump out a window. Homelander’s room is on 99—you remember from the blueprints: floor 99, south facing quadrant, next to Maeve’s old room and Noirs’ current one—but you’d survive the fall. You’d survive anything. But you have to go. You have to push through the sick and crippling feeling that’s growing like mold in your body, through the sheer cold in your blood that’s trying to root you in place, and run. 

Rolling off the bed is easy. Getting your legs to stop shaking is harder, and taking steps without collapsing is near impossible. But you have to run. You can break when you’re home, when you’re safe and Homelander can’t find you again. 

You can fucking do this. You steady your body, and take a long breath. You’re strong. You’ve escaped him once before. And done a lot of other, crazier shit. At this point it’s just another Tuesday. 

It’s a Friday. A small voice—bored and petulant—reminds you. And you were in a lab upstate. This is Vought Tower. You’ve never escaped Vought Tower.  

Shut the fuck up. This voice isn’t yours. It’s deep, and always a little gruff, even as it encourages you. You’re strong, Sunshine. You’re a spiteful, brilliant, angry pain in the ass. You can fucking do this. 

You’re strong. You can fucking do this. 

You’re going to jump out the window. 

Getting out of the room is simple but difficult, and getting down the stairs is fast. You fall, tumbling down the steps and landing on the floor with a crunch, but the adrenaline makes it painless and whatever broke is already healed. You half-crawl, half stumble to the windows. Wide, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the New York skyline. You can’t really see the street below you. 

This is going to really fucking hurt. 

Two steps back. Actually, four steps back. Enough to get a running start. Breathe in, out. You’ll be fine. And if it kills you, it kills you. 

Anything would be better than this. 

You’ve taken three steps when something grabs the back of your shirt, halting you. You scream into the gag, and a red gloved hand covers your mouth. 

“It’s just me,” Homelander hisses in your ear, and you stop fighting. Your whole body shuts down into the cold, and you can’t scream, or sob, or do anything but let Homelander drag you back and throw you onto the long, stiff couch.  

You can’t look at him. Looking at him makes this real. 

He notices, and jerks your chin to force your eyes to meet his. Colder than the room, full of malice and something that might be his version of hurt. Blue. You fucking hate blue. 

“You weren’t going to try and jump?” Homelander’s voice sounds genuinely disbelieving. “I mean,” he laughs your name, and you want to throw up. “Even for you that’s drastic.” 

He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t know what’s drastic for you and what’s not. But you can’t even glare at him, because all your energy is starting to fade, weighing you down like stones filling up your lungs. 

Homelander sighs. “I mean, you’ve already hurt my feelings enough for today.” His grip on your face might crack bone. “Stealing my son,” he gestures to his face, still bubbling with burn scars. “Doing fucking this to me. I mean, what did they do to you? To make you do this to me?” 

He sounds like he’s going to cry. You don’t care.

“Well,” he stands up, releasing your face and frowning down at you with his hands on his hips. “It doesn’t matter now. We’ll fix it. It’s fine your little plan worked, because it brought you back to me. And we’ll get Ryan back, together, once you’re less,” he sighs, waving a hand. “Fucking broken. This time will be different, I won’t keep you two apart. That was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

You just look at him, and his face twists into a sneer. 

“I said I’m sorry. It’s your turn.” 

You have a fucking gag over your mouth. And, even with the fear making everything too loud and bright and blurry, you’d never apologize to Homelander. He’ll have to kill you first. 

His glower fades in a second when he remembers the gag. “Oh, well, I’m going to pretend you apologized, because I can’t really take your gag off. Not while you’re still,” he spins a finger around near his head with a whistle. “Cuckoo. You get it, it’s just a precaution. I mean,” he laughs. “We can’t have you doing your little reality warping trick when you’re still loosing your fucking mind!” 

It’s not reality warping. It’s sensory manipulation. And for some reason that starts to set steel in your body. You’re not losing your mind. You’re not unstable or drastic. It’s fucking sensory manipulation, and your plan worked. Homelander had said Ryan was gone, and you’d done that—ruined Homelander’s picture perfect, all-American face—because you hated him. The fear wasn’t leaving, but it wasn’t growing anymore. And you could glare at Homelander. Let all your hatred, your hatred, not anyone else’s but yours, show across your face. 

“Oh, don’t give me that look!” Homelander huffs with an eye roll. “It’s temporary. Just until I can trust you again! We’re going to do this right this time, we’re going to do us right this time, and once we’ve rebuilt our trust I won’t have to take these kind of precautions. They’re fucking annoying for me, too. This isn’t just about you.” 

You just glare. 

“I mean, you can’t be that mad. You’d do the same thing, if you were in my shoes.” Homelander leans over you, studying your face. “I’m not letting you go this time. Everyone’s going to know you fucking belong to me. I mean, we’re made for each other.” He laughs again, and it’s horrible. It’s joyless and mocking and scraping around your insides painfully. “I mean, you were a good option for me before the V. Smart, pretty, good genetics, more compliant than Becca Butcher, less annoying and weird than Stormfront. You’d never be as mean to me as they were. For Christ’s sake, Stormfront killed herself on my fucking birthday! Did I tell you that? How fucking mean!” 

He’d told you that. Homelander had visited you that day, and asked you if you’d ever do that him. You’d said you would, because you had to and part of you had hoped he’d just leave. He hadn’t. 

“But you’d never do that to me. And after the V?” He grins at you, and it makes the scars look uglier. “You’re almost as strong as me! All those fucking nerds said one shot was going to kill you, but you survived four!” He leans over you, making you crane your neck with a rough hand. “Did I ever tell you that? One V shot should’ve killed you, and you definitely shouldn’t have lived through two. One of those scientists kept trying to tell me that you were growing more powerful and unstable each time, that we should fucking quit while we’re ahead, but I believed in you. And now look at you. My equal.” He shrugs. “Or at least fucking close to it. Closer than Maeve, closer than Stormfront, closer than anyone. Which is why I forgive you, and now I’m going to do this right.” 

He keeps saying that. Keeps saying he’s going to do this right. You don’t know what that means. 

“Sage already announced you’ve come home. I would’ve done it, but,” he gestures to his face, and some sort of twisted satisfaction runs through you. “I could just wait it out, but you’re up before we thought you’d be, so you can fix it.” He grabs one of your hands and starts to undo the cuff, but pauses. “If you need an incentive to behave, let me just remind you that you won’t make it out the door. You’re strong, but I’m fucking stronger. You can run, but I’ll knock you down. You’re staying with me. All the fucking worms who tried to keep you away from me won’t be able to this time. Butcher can try and come get you, but I’ll just kill him and his whole merry band of idiots. They send Soldier Boy, and we’ll knock him out. Sage has wired the whole building for it, just in case. You don’t have to worry about that, but you should know. Trust.” Homelander pulls off the wrapping on one hand, raising to his face. “You’re never fucking getting away from me again. Now fix what you did.” 

The fire is back. It’s woken up—not at full power but more than enough—coursing through your whole body as Homelander words rattled around your head. They’ll knock Ben out. They’ll kill your team. 

You could run. Homelander’s moving your hand against his skin, and you could burn him and run. 

But you touch him, your skin on his, and suddenly you’re afraid. 

It’s not your fear. Your fear is freezing, made of panic and memories. This fear is foreign, hostile in your body, made of something vile and strange. This fear is buried deep, deep down, and strong. This fear is parasitic. This is Homelander’s fear. 

Homelander’s afraid. 

Of you. 

And in a split second, you make a choice. 

You had a plan for this. In the back of your head, you’d buried a plan. You’d never wanted to use it, you’d never told anyone you had it, you’d even pretended it wasn’t there so you could sleep at night. 

You could run. You could leave and go back to Ben and warn him that they had more gas, warn Butcher that Sage was planning something, because you were certain she was. But you didn’t know what. 

And you had a plan. 

Ben was going to kill you. You were going to kill you. As Homelander’s face healed under your hands and your own face grew raw and painful, you hated yourself. You wanted to leave. You wanted to go home, back to Ben, and just leave. But the fire was settling quietly back into your body, silent and cold once more as your choice became set. 

Homelander was right. This wasn’t about you. This was about the world, and making it safe. This was about trusting that Butcher wouldn’t let Ben come find you, as much as you wanted him to. Every part of your heart wanted Ben to burst through the door, pick you up, and take you away. Anywhere that wasn’t here, and you’d tell him you loved him and he wouldn’t leave. But you’d promised to keep him awake, and if he came to save you he’d go under. He wasn’t going under. And, as much of a prick as Butcher was, he’d know to keep Ben away. And you’d get back to Ben. Soon. But right now this wasn’t about you. 

Here were the cards you’d been dealt. Here was your shot at the devil. 

You weren’t going to miss.

End Note: I know y’all hate me now, but please let me cook. I swear I'm not a sadist and this is going somewhere. Remember the agreement we made that you didn’t know about; you GOTTA trust. 

Please, please, please leave a comment if you want to! Never be afraid it’s too long or too short and think I won’t read it. Every single one means the whole world to me, whether it’s a thought on an older chapter or a predication about the next one. No matter what you’re telling me, feedback or jokes or opinions, you will ALWAYS make my day. Cuss me out for this chapter, ask my why the hell I hate love, tell me about your day, no matter what I want to hear it <3. See you in Angst-town USA, population us, for chapter 17.

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[im-a-writer--im-in-distress]

The Witchling (Part I)

Insert with: Ruhn Danaan

Reader: Female (she/her)

Words: 2100+

About: Ruhn and his girlfriend are having a rough night…

Warning(s): (spoilers for this story ahead) violent fighting, character death, near death, vampirism (TVD), werewolf bite (sorry, Ruhn)

A/N: Day Six of Ruhn Week 2024! The prompt is "Night". @ruhnweek New stories all week! So, y’all can blame @danikamariewrites for this post, because that’s what gave me this idea. I was at a loss for this day until I saw that (amazing!) post. So, yeah. @danikamariewrites your fault.😏 (I’m already working on a Part II. *cough cough*)

Ruhn sat on the edge of his desk at the Aux, phone pressed to his ear. "I’m so sorry I can’t be there to see you off."

Your laughter floated through the line, though it did little to ease his guilt. "Stop, it’s fine. The city needs you more than me. I can manage one night without some grand farewell."

He ran a hand through his hair. "You know I’m always here for you, right? Even when you’re out with your coven?”

"You worry too much, prince. We take care of each other.” Your heart tightened at the lie you told, your fingers tracing the edge of the blood bag hidden in your coat. “Plus, I have my own magic to protect me, remember?"

"I know, but…" He hesitated. I want to be with you. "I just hate the thought of you out there without me."

"I know," you whispered, showing your heart. "And I love that about you. But you have to trust me. I can handle myself."

"I do trust you, witchling. It’s just…” It’s dangerous. “I miss you."

Your breath hitched, the weight of your secret pressing down on you. "I miss you too, Ruhn. More than you know."

The silence between the two of you was thick, filled with half-spoken lies. You broke it first, your playful tone meant to mask the ache in your chest. "I’ll make it worth your wait."

Ruhn’s chuckle was warm as he joined in on your joke. "I’m gonna hold you to that.”

But the warmth fell flat even for himself. He knew these hunts were part of your culture, and because they were, he would never be invited to come along, but he didn't like you spending an overnight outside the city. Even if your coven was with you. “Be safe, okay?"

"Always," she replied. "I love you, Ruhn."

"I love you too, Y/N. Call me when you get back, please?"

You didn’t respond, but he heard your breathing change. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

Ruhn heard the phone clatter to the ground, and other voices over the line. He called to you, but no one responded. Only the sound of shuffling and yelps of pain.

Your heart raced as you crouched low, shadows coiling around you like dark tendrils enveloping an egg. Your phone lay on the ground, Ruhn’s frantic voice faint in the stillness of the standoff. The creature that had knocked your phone out of your hand breathed heavily just out of sight. It stepped into the moonbeam, his eyes gleaming. It was a… human?

"Who are you?" you demanded. "What do you want?"

A hulking wolf-shifter stepped forward with a sneer. No, he was the one whose breathing you’d heard. "You’re trespassing, witch. This is our territory."

Your eyes narrowed. The Auxiliary had strict patrol zones, and you had been careful to avoid them. Sometimes that meant betraying other borders. "I'm not here for trouble. Just passing through."

"Passing through?" said another voice, dripping. An angel stepped into the dim light, his wings casting eerie shadows on the alley walls. "Looks like you’re doing more than just passing through."

Your hand closed on the empty blood bag in your pocket. “I don’t want any trouble,” you said.

But you were already in trouble. The shadows beyond these men rippled and half a dozen more of their pack stepped forward. It was a mixed pack, one developed by those exiled from their own; it was exactly the kind of unholy union your kind was meant to manage.

These packs always had something to prove. And you were their new target.

One of the shifters lunged at you, claws extended. You dodged, your body moving with heightened speed. It was fast enough to get away, but not as fast as you were capable of. Hunger gnawed at your insides, weakening you. You retaliated with a swift kick that sent the shifter sprawling back. His pack growled. They weren’t done.

"Come on, then," you said, summoning your shadow magic to envelop your attackers. Tendrils of darkness wrapped around their limbs. In your weakened state, though, the shadows couldn’t hold tight, and one by one, they broke free.

You didn’t have time to think about it. Another beast charged, jaws snapping. You sidestepped, slashing with a blade concealed in your sleeve, drawing blood. He howled, and you took a step back, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The angel watched, a cruel smile on his lips.

"Is that all you've got?" he asked in a genuine voice, then launched himself at you. You blocked and countered, but each movement was draining. The depleted blood in your veins was already a concern; without it, your strength would continue to wane.

A sharp pain exploded in your side as a shifter’s claws raked across your ribs. You staggered, barely avoiding a second blow. Your mind raced. You needed to escape. You couldn't die here, not like this. Not without seeing Ruhn again.

The angel laughed, his blade glinting as it slashed at you. You managed to land a punch that sent him reeling.

But it wasn’t enough.

Their pack of misfits surrounded you, eyes glowing. You felled one, then another, but they kept coming, relentless.

Each dodge you made, each strike you landed— They all stripped your energy, your weakened state making each step more and more unsteady. Your instincts were dulling, too, confirmed by the barrelling strike one of the shifters surprised you with. His big paws pinned you down as your blade skittered away across the pavement. His teeth bared down on you, inches from your face, when his nose caught a whiff. "You smell… different." He sniffed you again, and his pupils swelled with primal recognition. "Prey."

Your blood ran cold. They could scent your true nature. You were in over your head.

You didn’t have a choice. You let your true eyes show, glowing red in the dark. The wolf in him sneered, thrilled. But then, he faltered. Your eyes seared into his, and his body heated from the inside out. Panic threaded into his eyes. Then, he was crippling off of you, sharp cries falling out of him as his blood boiled.

You took the chance to scramble away. A heel landed on something with a crack. It was your phone, the cracked screen gone black. Ruhn… You’d forgotten about him. He’d heard all this?

"Interesting." The angel gleamed, sadistically delighted, as he stepped closer. "You're not just any witch, are you?"

“What gave me away?” You spat, pushing to your feet. The blood magic had faded from your eyes. But so had the energy you desperately needed.

The angel kicked your blade back across the pavement. It landed by your feet, but you didn’t dare take it. “Go on,” he said. “We’ll wait.

You eyed him, your muscles prepared to leap at any sign of movement, and kneeled to retrieve your blade. As soon as your fingers wrapped around it, the human—a Vanir, you realized—launched at you. He held two blades, and he wielded them well. You struggled to dodge, landing only one blow good enough to stun him. Your speed glitched behind him and you cracked his neck, letting the limp body fall.

You were breathing hard now, unable to catch your breath. This was it. You weren’t going to survive this fight. Now, you just needed to make your body as presentable as possible for when Ruhn inevitably found your corpse.

The angel hmph-ed in amusement. He stepped forward. “Let’s finish this.”

You launched at him, focusing your strength into your feet to stay balanced as you parried with each other. He was good, and tonight, you weren’t much better. Tonight, he was a worthy opponent for your last fight. He shoved you with his arm and you tripped, landing hard on your knees. “Stay down, witch.”

Pain and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm you. How could you fight when your own body was betraying you? You pushed to your feet. If this was your last, you were gonna make sure it was one hell of a fight.

Teeth sank deep into your shoulder and you cried out at the searing pain, the sound echoing in the narrow alley. Agony washed through your veins, frying every nerve ending in your body, and you collapsed under it. Terror struck you. A wolf bite. No…

‘Y/N!’ You heard your name on Ruhn’s voice crash in your mind, the first sign it was over. Your mental block had fractured and crumbled, and Ruhn knew it.

That only made this worse.

The angel laughed, a deep, haunting laugh. "Finish her," he ordered.

You lashed out, catching the angel off-guard. Your blade sliced the base of his wing, shaving feathers off to the quick. He stumbled back, cursing, but his pack was relentless. Claws and blades tore at you, your only defense to pull shadows around you like a shield. You could feel the venom spreading, your body—and your magic—growing weaker with each passing second.

One last desperate, crazy idea. Gathering the last drops of your strength and magic, you pulled the shadows tightly to ball at your chest. They resisted the tight compression, needing to be free, but you held tight, sweat and blood streaking down your skin. It took all your strength to hold them tight.

The angel towered over you, bright white under the moonlight. “Goodbye, witch,” he said, and daggered his blade down at you.

You released your hold and the shadows splintered from their confines, exploding in all directions. Their razor edges ripped through the last of your attackers. You saw the blurry image of angel wings fall to the ground as darkness overtook you.

The bullpen was in chaos, and it was all Ruhn’s fault. He had burst out of his office towards the boys when he heard the fighting on the other side of the line. He put it on speaker-phone and watched the men get white in the face.

Flynn and Ithan had wrestled with him, trying to calm him down, but the second the phone line went dead, Ruhn lost it. His roar of frustration and panic echoed through the building, silencing everyone. Flynn's grip on his arm tightened, and Ithan stepped in front of him, an attempt to calm him that didn’t do much.

"Dec, find her!" Ruhn snapped. Declan was already hunched over his station, fingers flying over the keyboard as he scanned security footage. "Check every damn camera near the gates!"

"She's with her coven, right?" Dec asked, but didn’t wait for an answer.

Ruhn's mind raced. He had to focus, had to think. Your mental block was up, and that was a good sign. It meant you were still conscious, still fighting. But it also meant he couldn't reach you, couldn't tell you he was coming. His chest tightened, helplessness crushing him.

Your agony sliced into Ruhn’s mind like a white-hot iron, the force of it physically knocking him to his knees. It was a raw, guttural sound like nothing he’d ever heard.

"Ruhn!" Flynn shouted, dropping to his side. "What's happening?"

"Y/N," Ruhn whispered, breath coming fast from the flash of your pain. You’d never spoken in his mind before. He couldn’t help the sick feeling that came with it this time. Flynn's face was a pale blur before him, eyes wide with alarm. Ithan dropped a hand on his shoulder.

"We’ll find her," Ithan said, his voice strong like he meant it. "She’ll be okay."

Ruhn nodded, swallowing hard. He forced himself to stand, unsteady on his limbs. "We need Hypaxia," he said, his voice raw. "She might know where Y/N is."

Flynn nodded, and Ithan pulled out his phone, dialing the witch-queen's number, and handed it to him. It felt like an eternity before she answered. "Where’s Aurora?" he barked. No time for pleasantries.

"Ruhn, what happened?"

"She's not with her coven, is she?"

"No," Hypaxia admitted, her voice soft. "She's alone."

Ruhn's fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. "Where is she?"

"I don't know, but she would've gone to her caches.” Hypaxia said. “I know where one is."

"Give me the address," he growled. He snapped his fingers at Flynn and he bolted over.

Hypaxia rattled off the address, and Ruhn relayed it to Declan, who immediately triangulated it on his screens. "I'll meet you there," Hypaxia added. "I have the key."

"Fine," Ruhn bit out, then gave Ithan his phone back. He turned to Flynn. "You're coming with me. Ithan, keep your phone hot. I'll send you another address if she's not there."

Flynn nodded, already pulling on his coat. Declan called out from his station, "I don't see anyone on the cameras."

"She's alone," Ruhn barked, his voice echoing through the bullpen. He didn't wait for a response, didn't look back as he darted out the door.

.

Part II Part III coming soon!

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

My personal take on the Crows’ names post-marriage

(I included helnik, just humour me, I still have thoughts on what they’d each want)

Names are very much established as important and powerful in the presentation of all the characters in the Six of Crows Duology, particularly for Kaz, Inej, and Wylan. (for Kaz the new surname that has become his identity whilst he suppresses the person he used to be, for Inej having been denied her name as a tool of dehumanisation and also as her link to her family and to a culture that the city she’s trapped in looks down upon, for Wylan the association of his surname with his father and with his family business as well as what was once a longing to disappear and not have anyone know who he was)

I personally don’t think that any of the Crows would want to give up their surnames when they got married. I do believe that Wylan would change his surname to Hendriks post-Crooked Kingdom, but I think he would keep Hendriks rather than changing to Fahey after marriage to maintain his connection to his mother. I don’t think Nina would want to give up her surname because, although she doesn’t have family connections to it, it’s a massive part of her identity and her love for Matthias is unending but she’s not going to compromise who she is for it - especially considering her fear of disconnection from Ravkan culture and the fact that taking Helvar would be taking a Fjerdan name. Matthias would absolutely respect the hell out of that, and I can see them having a very open discussion about the possibility of him taking on Zenik but I don’t see him being ultimately comfortable with it because his family is very important to him and he’s the only living connection to them, plus he was raised with antiquated gender roles that he is in the process of unlearning and has his own complexities in terms of his relationship with Ravka and may not feel comfortable taking on a Ravkan name. I can see them both hyphenating, but I think it’s more likely that they would each keep their own names and their kids would hyphenate Helvar-Zenik. Wylan and Jesper I think would both keep their names and their kids would either hyphenate Hendriks-Fahey or keep Hendriks for the purpose of the business being under Wylan’s name, personally I think Jesper would want his name in there for the kids but idk. I can also see them adopting older children, in which case they’d keep their own surnames or Jesper and Wylan would encourage them to choose whatever they want to themselves when they are in a safe and healthy position to think about it, similarly to Wylan choosing to take on Hendriks, but that would be highly dependent on their personal circumstances pre- and post- adoption. Kaz and Inej I’ve seen a lot of discussion about and I absolutely get why; for me they would each keep their own names but their children would take Ghafa rather than Brekker, but honestly I like every variation I’ve seen I personally just don’t see Inej ever taking Brekker. Maybe Reitveld, but I don’t think she’d take Brekker. Inej’s experiences at the Menagerie so directly involved both the loss of her culture and the forced appropriation and sexualisation of it and so much of her journey is about reclaiming her power and everything that the city did to her I just don’t think she would ever want to lose her connection to her heritage or to her parents when she lost them for such a significant period, and I honestly don’t know that Kaz would want his kids to take on Brekker because everything that name represents to him will forever be connected to the period of his life where he was at his lowest and his mind was at its darkest, I don’t think that the Kaz Brekker he invented had a future and I don’t think he was supposed to, he was purely a creature born of revenge that was birthed in the harbours of Ketterdam with nothing but revenge burning a hole in his heart. If he chose to return to Reitveld then I see that as a far more likely surname for their kids than Brekker, but I also don’t see Kaz having any particular qualms over his children being Ghafa’s I’m just not convinced he would take the name on himself

Anyway these are obvs just my opinions and if anyone differs let me know, I’d be interested to know if I fall in a similar place to most folks or not :)

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Better Novel Scrivener Template

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The Current Novel Template is out of date, the templates aren't really doing much for you. And the variety of icons is rather thin. I set out to fix this.

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Don't be the ass that tries to sell my hard work, 'cause really, it's free. And I spent a lot of pains and time to make sure it's free and easy to use with a lot of subtle UX. Edit: I added even more stuff to the newest version.

Yes, a Pets Sketch, a Fauna Species Sketch a Flora Species Sketch, there is Literature added to the list of Art (I forgot it. lol I thought the mistake was silly, but yeah.)

And I added a Medicine Section with an icon to the technology section. There are two native icons already for Medicine--syringe and pill, but I kind of felt it didn't always give the feel of fantasy, so I made a Mortar and Pestle from scratch to add, but if you're doing sci-fi or contemporary, etc you can change to the syringe or pill.

I added explainers as well for the items to the guide.

Why?

'Cause. I would love to be able to see people put more thought into their worlds/worldbuilding, even if it doesn't show up. Maybe it won't be only horses for animals as pets. Or an occasional dog. Haha. Having a gay dog like Robin Williams would be great.

[evermourning]

𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭 - hwang hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader, lovertober entry iii

genre: love at first sight, non!idol au, fluff, comfort, vacation romance, slice of life

wc: 5.2k

warnings: only one bed... (literally like ONCE) , language, mentions of alcohol, getting drunk, mutual pining, hyunjin is kinda self-deprecating, that stupid fucking miscommunication trope

a/n: ouranos is the embodiment of the sky in greek mythology...there are multiple ways to spell it but there are also multiple reasons i'm not writing uranus in my work 🤓 (i am not mature)

seasonal depression was kicking your ass right now.

work was piling up, you were struggling to find time to relax, and it was all so overwhelming that you were losing yourself piece by piece. finally, the long-awaited chance for you to take a break arrived, when you received a text from your grandmother.

as she asked you how you were doing, a thought came to your head. your grandmother made all her money through real estate and rentals...so what was saying she couldn't rent her place to you for a month or so? when you asked, she agreed almost instantly, rambling on and on about you were a lifesaver.

she allowed you to rent a beautiful and modern townhouse she owned on the outskirts of the city, smack dab in the art district, a beautiful display of all different cultures. it would truly be an amazing trip. plus, the house had more than one bedroom, so you'd get the spacious place all to yourself.

now, you stood in front of it, admiring the industrial-style architecture and lovely flowers blooming in boxes beneath tinted windows. this was going to change your life for the better. you knew it.

after settling in, you took a look around. the home had two different bedrooms with a wide seating area and kitchen, boasting two levels. your grandmother had really scored with this one. you called her as soon as you finished unpacking, thanking her profusely. however, when you noticed her kind eyes bore a new, mischievous twinkle, you couldn't help but be a tad suspicious. what were you missing?

your suspicions were confirmed that night. turns out your warm, loving grandma had some tricks up her sleeve.

it was around ten o'clock at night and you'd cuddled up on the couch with a warm blanket and a book, reading quietly and contentedly under a warm lamplight. the soft bustle of the city outside the window could lull you to sleep if you weren't careful. however, a sound from outside scared the shit out of you.

it almost sounded like...a lock turning?

wait.

that wasn't just any lock. it was your lock.

you covered your mouth, heart pounding, beating rapidly as you raced over to the kitchen to search for a makeshift weapon, settling on a frying pan. then, you hid just out of sight from the door, so that you could see it, but couldn't be seen. when the door opened, you gripped the cast iron pan as tight as possible. however, you lowered it when you noticed who it was.

it was the most beautiful man you'd ever laid eyes on.

however, he could always be a murderer in secret, so you crept out from your hiding spot, calling out softly (which was frankly a horrid idea) to the man standing at the door.

"who's there?"

when the man heard your voice, he shrieked. this caused you to scream too, until you two were face-to-face, the man ready to defend himself and you holding onto the frying pan for dear life. when you realized you weren't going to be hurt, you lowered the pan, getting a better look at the mysterious intruder.

holy fuck, he was gorgeous.

his skin was fair and perfect, obviously well taken-care of, as it seemed like there wasn't a single blemish upon it except for a singular mole below one of his eyes. his eyes were like dark chocolate, warm and slightly widened from the fear, and his plump, perfectly shaped lips were parted slightly in a little "o". his hair was the color of the night sky, tousled and styled perfectly, the tips falling just slightly above his shoulders. the young man was tall and lean, and not to mention very stylish.

"who are you and how did you get in here?" you began, stepping back cautiously. he gulped, taking a deep breath before speaking. he had a tranquil voice, tinged with worry. it had an oddly comforting tone.

"i'm, uh, renting this place for a month. who are you?" he said quietly.

"the lady who rents this place out is my grandmother." you explained, and he nodded. "but this is very odd...i was renting this place for a month."

the young man tilted his head in confusion.

"okay, um...that's weird. can you like, call her?" he suggested, playing with a piece of his hair. it looked very soft...

you nodded, and as you were pulling out your phone you pointed over to a door near the back porch.

"for now, put your stuff in there. we can both sleep here tonight...i'll let my grandmother know tonight and we can sort it out tomorrow. sounds good?"

"yeah." he confirmed, before giving you a gentle, awkward smile. "thanks, by the way. i was scared you were gonna kick me out or something. i'll be honest, i don't think i could survive a night out on the streets."

you laughed, and couldn't help but notice his cheeks becoming rosier when he heard the sound. as he went off to investigate the room you'd pointed out, you dialed in your grandmother's number. she picked up after the first three rings.

"hi, honey. have you settled in?" she cooed from the other side of the phone, her voice light and cheery. "anything you need?"

"you double-booked the townhouse and now there's an unfamiliar man here, grandma." as you explained to her the situation, the young man popped his head out of the door.

"hi, um...whatever your name is - there's no bed in here. it's just the frame." your blood ran cold. this was an even bigger problem because there was only one other mattress. shit.

"oh, yeah. i forgot to mention - one of the mattresses ripped and so i had to replace it. it's coming in a day or two, okay?" your grandmother paused, before giggling. "who knows? this could be your chance for a new shot at love."

"grandma...i've talked to this guy, what- once or twice? you're delusional." you sighed, massaging your temples. "and plus, i'll just sleep on the couch. he can have the room." after you hung up, the young man tentatively sat down on the couch beside you.

"so, what did she say?"

after you recounted her words to your new acquaintance, he sat in silence for a moment, before finally speaking up.

"well, we can figure out rooming and stuff...but how about we just live here together for the month? unless you're not comfortable with it, then i'll find myself a hotel and call your grandmother for a refund-"

"no, no, you took the time and effort to come all the way here - you deserve this vacation just as much as i do. you're welcome to stay." you smiled softly at him. "what's your name, by the way? you seem very kind. i'm yn."

his lips curled upwards, and you wanted to melt into a puddle at the sight.

"my name is hyunjin."

in a shocking turn of events, you were lying in the same bed as a boy you'd just barely met, an angel on earth named hwang hyunjin. you'd reassured yourself there was no way anything like this would happen on your trip, but you were very clearly wrong.

"alright. there's one other bedroom - which has an unripped mattress, might i add - and then one of us can sleep on the couch." you explained. hyunjin was quick to counter it.

"that's an awfully small couch..." he noted, circling it to get a better view. it was pretty small...

"i'll sleep on it. you can take the bed and we'll wash the sheets in the morning." you concluded. he looked at you, eyes wide.

"you can't do that! did you see this week's weather? you'll freeze out here!" he said pleadingly. you sighed, giving him a reassuring smile.

"you're very kind, hyunjin." you replied. "but i can get a blanket or two. i'll be okay."

he shook his head in response.

"we can share the bed and pile it with blankets. deal?" he asked, staring at you hopefully. "i don't want us to start off on the wrong foot and have someone be cranky because they slept on that creaky-ass couch."

he had a point, you told yourself. next thing you knew, you were laying on your side in your pajamas beside a barricade of linen pillows, watching the steady rise and fall of a guy you'd only known for a few hours' chest. he looked so peaceful as he slept, you only wished you could feel the same. you let out a soft sigh before falling back onto your pillow and drifting off into sleep.

hyunjin, on the other hand, was praying you thought he was sleeping. he knew you'd leaned over the get a better look at him, and he desperately hoped that the darkness of the bedroom concealed his flushed cheeks. thankfully, he heard a soft sigh escape your perfect lips and a thump of a head hitting the pillow beside him, allowing him to exhale, relieved.

he didn't think he was in love with you. that couldn't be possible. he'd only known you for three hours, forty-four minutes, and nine seconds (he counted). there was no way he could be this enamored with someone like you. sure, you were beautiful...like an angel who'd floated daintily down from the heavens above...and the fact that you had the loveliest personality...

but he didn't know that! maybe it was a facade. he hoped it was a facade, so that these weird, unwanted feelings of adoration and desire would just float away with a snap of his fingers. he was looking for a muse, and he wouldn't find one in some stranger with...breathtaking eyes...ugh.

this was going to be harder than he thought.

the next morning, you woke up and the bed was missing hyunjin's presence. you yawned, slipping into the bathroom to make yourself look somewhat presentable before going out to the kitchen. hyunjin sat at the counter, texting someone on his phone. when he heard teh door open, he grinned.

"good morning. your grandmother emailed me, so wanna go get some coffee at that café down the block to wake us up? then we can talk about living situations and whatnot." he was wearing a white printed shirt tucked into a pair of ripped jeans. he paired this with casual shoes and a cream-colored cardigan. you were envious of his style. however, you accepted the offer, and side-by-side you made your way to the shop.

you found your way to a booth in the back. the atmosphere was lovely, warm and modern with the smell of freshly baked pastries mixing with the strong scent of espresso. it felt so cozy, with a soft bossa nova melody playing through a speaker, its mood quite ambient. you'd put in your order and hyunjin's, as he'd made some comment about feeling uncomfortable ordering. you'd laughed at him, taking delight in his cheeks reddening from the teasing.

eventually, your order was called out, and with much pushing and shoving, hyunjin went and picked up the coffees. now, you were sipping away, sighing contentedly as if you could practically feel the caffeine flooding through your veins and energizing you. when you felt much more awake, hyunjin began speaking.

"okay, so she apologized profusely for the misunderstanding, but essentially, there's nothing she can do because the money's already been transferred. she gave me two options: you and i can live together for this month, or she'll use my rental money to pay for a hotel room." he tilted his head. "what are you thinking?"

"well...if you're comfortable with it, we can live together. i don't want to overstep any boundaries of yours, but it'll be better than hectically trying to find a place to stay, especially at this time of year. and who knows? maybe this is fate." you suggested, chewing on your straw. "does that work for you? the mattress for the second bedroom is supposed to arrive today, too. you can truly settle in."

hyunjin took a moment to consider the offer, before extending one hand for you to shake. it fits into yours perfectly, you noticed, but you didn't say anything.

"that works. this is so exciting, i've never really had a roommate before."

and so, like clockwork, spending time with hyunjin integrated itself into your daily routine. he was so fun to be around, and gave great tips on style. together, hand in hand, you explored the city. it was nice, you decided, to have a friend like him. even if you felt your heart rate spike when he lean over a little too close to grab something behind you, faces inches apart. even if you watched horror movies together and he made you wrap him in your arms because he was so terrified. it was really nice. and your mind was clearing.

the first time you felt an emotion towards hyunjin that was something more than a platonic feeling was about one-thirds into your vacation. he was on the second floor of the townhouse, in a room temporarily claimed as his art studio.

you loved watching him paint. each brush stroke was fluid and gentle, yet so inexplicably concise. two very different colors, bright in hue and vibrant could mix together with a dash of black or white and become something new altogether. perhaps a new shade with muted, earthen tones, or a dark shade of the color wheel. before he touched the blank canvas with his essence, it was bare and boring. a simple white. but the minute he let himself be enraptured by the very idea of artistry, the creativity pulsed from his fingertips and into the paintbrush, creating a story with each swish of the tool.

he stood at the easel, with you relaxing nearby. his brow was furrowed, and he drifted his index finger back-and-forth across the empty, emotionless piece of fabric.

"i don't know what to paint." he huffed, walking over to the large window to search the streets for some inspiration. you stood up, brushing off your pants and making your way over to the place beside him. he looked down at you, and it was like a lightbulb lit up above his head comically. "yn...would it be okay if i painted you?"

you were so excited, nodding and taking his hands.

"i would love nothing more!" you crowed. hyunjin fidgeted with his hands nervously.

"um, one thing. can you take off your necklace? my art style is in many ways detailed but also abstract. i think it'll throw me off a little."

you nodded. after a few attempts to remove it, you ended up giving him a sheepish look.

"can you help me with it?" he nodded, moving right behind you. you lifted up your hair a bit out of his way. your heart was pounding, echoing so loudly within your chest you were so sure that the next door neighbors could hear it. as his soft hands worked expertly to remove it, your face felt like it was burning. you flinched a bit when his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck.

little did you know, it was driving hyunjin crazy just as much as it was making you insane. he felt like a victorian man viewing ankles for the first time, with the way he was heating up at the sight of your soft, beautiful skin. the way you shuddered when he touched the skin gently was enough to make him want to grab you and kiss you at that very moment. but he didn't, because there was no way you felt that way in return, and he didn't want to singlehandedly ruin this relationship with you that he'd been so carefully building, piece by piece. he shook it off, unclipping the chain and handing it to you, before slipping into the space behind his easel. you posed on the chair, crossing one leg over the other. after what felt like an eternity, hyunjin motioned for you to get up and come see his completed masterpiece.

what stared back at you was only the most emotional and dazzling piece that hyunjin had made (in your opinion). it perfectly captured your features and displayed them in an alluring array of colors. you looked over at him, jaw dropped. he laughed softly at your astonishment.

"you like it?"

"i love it." you murmured, tracing your own lips with your pinkie. "you're so talented. you're so humble about it, hyunjin, but i know natural-born talent when i see it. please never stop painting, especially if you love it."

"so basically, what you're saying is..." hyunjin said, dark eyes trained on you. "...that i should continue following the things i love?"

"yeah."

the second time these overwhelming feelings flooded your system was on a warm saturday night. the sky was bright and clear, so you'd suggested stargazing. you two sat on a grassy green hill perfectly placed twenty or so minutes away from the house, carefully laying out a blanket to watch from. you pointed out various stars and patterns and constellations, impressing hyunjin with your knowledge.

you laid there with him, the grass tickling your skin. his skin was soft and flush against yours, warm and gentle like a mother’s touch, your hands intertwined. you hoped he didn't feel your palms being slightly sweaty from the nervousness. his thumb softly rubbed figure eight-shaped patterns into the back of your hand. from this angle, hyunjin looked absolutely ethereal, like a beloved son of aphrodite herself. his dark hair paired with long, ebony eyelashes and full, parted lips was an absolute killer. you were trying so hard to focus on the stars, but you couldn't help yourself from staring at him instead of the night sky.

"i love watching the stars. it makes me so mad when nights are cloudy and these beauties are hidden from the world." hyunjin commented. his words struck a harmonious chord inside you.

"astronomy is really such a showcase of beauty and elegance. true beauty, like the millions of stars painting our universe as if they were the freckles on ouranos’ skin, is something one could only dream of. seeing these natural wonders makes me lucky to be alive, to be a living, breathing human. as a human, i am blessed to have eyes so that i can take in these little joys. hyune, do you realize some people will never get to see the stars?"

"i do." he was quiet for a moment, before continuing. "sometimes, i wonder if they will never see the stars because they physically cannot, or they’re just not looking hard enough. i makes me a bit disappointed that they're not admiring the universe's beauty. we're not on this earth forever. we have to embrace every second."

"yeah." you grinned at him. "i have you, though. our time together may not be permanent, i will cherish every single memory."

hyunjin frowned. he rolled over on his stomach, turning slightly to face you better.

"what says our time together can't be permanent? we've grown so close. i want to make more memories with you after this." you knew he didn't intend for his words to be perceived this way, but you couldn't help it. your mind drifted off to fantasies of hyunjin as your boyfriend. holding your hand on the street, baking together...hyunjin smiling as he swiped frosting off your bottom lip...a healthy, happy love. you needed it.

and it was almost painfully ironic, the fact that during this entire hypothetical dream sequence you were experiencing, you didn’t even notice hyunjin zeroing in on your lips. you didn’t notice the pink coloring obvious upon his skin. you didn’t even notice when his hand came up to rest against your cheek. his touch was careful, soft, like you were some fragile beauty he was scared of breaking. it snapped you out of your trance when he spoke again.

"you look like you have a tiny scar on your cheek. what's that from?"

you reached your hand up to your own face, a small sound of surprise leaving your lips as you ran your finger along it.

"i didn't even notice i had this. god, you're so observant." you said lightly, sitting up and brushing off your pants. hyunjin watched.

"i really am, aren't i? sometimes i feel like some all-knowing creature, seeing everything but saying nothing." you nodded, scooting in closer so you could lean against him. he wrapped an arm around you, keeping you both warm.

"well, if you feel like a bystander, you should try speaking up more. no matter what you do, though, you know i'll still look at you like you're polaris. i hope you shine forever, hyunjin. and i'm so happy that we've grown so close, so i pray i'll get to see you flourish and sparkle like the very stars we're dazzled by right now."

you hoped these words resonated in the nooks and crannies of the brain you'd been so interested in. hiding your true feelings was getting harder and harder. you wanted to let him know that you were absolutely infatuated with him instantly. you wanted his embrace to become tighter, more protective. but you knew it wouldn't. you weren't a fool. you could keep this massive secret of yours under wraps, yes?

your master plan was foiled a week or two later.

you and hyunjin had been playing around, and it got a bit out of control. namely, you were completely and utterly drunk. although hyunjin reacted to your state with amusement, worry coursed through his veins. you were babbling, slurring your words. you were usually so composed, hyunjin had never seen this side of you.

he sat on the couch as you were snuggled into his side, snoring blissfully. he looked down at you, his hand hovering just over the small of your back. he didn't want to touch you without your consent, but he really wanted to just hold you in his arms.

these days, every waking thought he had included you. whether it was a daydream, a nightmare, anything: you were in it. every aspect of his life had been taken over by the very idea of you. he was scared. he knew your time in this home was finite, so he'd been trying his very best to keep you with him, with his little hope being that you felt the same way.

hyunjin had never felt so strongly about someone. he wanted to hold your hand until you were old and grey, he wanted to know you inside and out. know every little detail of your beautiful brain. it was insane. he was losing it, fearing you'd forget him after you left. what if your work began to overtake you, and you stopped contacting him? he couldn't let that happen, not when he'd spent all this time loving you. okay, that was a stretch, but he felt like if you reciprocated his feelings of longing and desire, together you could blossom and grow like the first blooms upon a barren tree in the spring.

he didn't want to overthink it, he didn't want to get ahead of himself. you'd said some things he'd perceived as sentences with romantic undertones, but he didn't want to explicitly confess these jumbled feelings for you if his heart was simply going to be shattered.

however, you nestled yourself closer to him, a sigh escaping your lips, and hyunjin felt as if the tendrils of white-hot flames were dancing across his body from your touch.

"mmm...you're such a nice pillow, jinnie." you mumbled, and he turned to face you more, raising an eyebrow. jinnie? you never called him that. "it's almost like we're a couple."

he felt his cheeks slowly change to a color akin to rose petals.

"w-what?" he asked, stumbling over his words. "don't joke about that."

"i know, i know." a comically large frown crossed your face. "i don't want to joke about it because then, it'll make me believe i actually have a shot with you. i know how you feel about me will probably be obsolete after we part ways." hyunjin's mouth dropped open. he was racking his brain for proof this was happening. would he have to pinch himself? there was no way someone like you would have feelings for a person like him.

"can you elaborate on that? i know you're not really yourself right now...but please." he pleaded, steadying you my placing a firm grip on your shoulders.

"i've been a little in love with you since that night we um...slept together but didn't." you giggled. "you're so perfect though, but you're so oblivious...how can i show you i truly care?"

and then out of nowhere, you placed a hand on his cheek, kissing him. the kiss was sweet and soft, but filled with all the love and emotion your drunken self could muster. hyunjin had to admit, he liked it, but he was a sensible man. he pushed you off him.

"yn, no. we'll cover this in the morning. it was really a beautiful kiss, but you're not yourself right now, and if i possibly am in love with you back, i'm not going to do anything until you're not under the influence." he helped you up, acting as a crutch for you to walk safely back to your room. he hoisted you onto your bed to the best of his abilities, where you were out the minute your head touched the pillow. he took a second to stare longingly at your sleeping face before shutting the door.

hyunjin flopped onto the couch, his head in his hands.

you liked him back?

there was no way. hyunjin was horrid, built with flaws and all sort of insecurities that you'd never be able to stand. you had been nothing short of kind to him, but what if he showed you this side he'd been so ready to conceal, and you looked at him with disgust and contempt? he'd never be able to bear it. so he prayed you'd wake up and feel the same way you did drunk.

you woke up with a raging headache and a raging feeling of dread pooling in the pits of your stomach. something wasn't right. you knew you'd been drunk the night before, but trying to look back on it was impossible. it was like a haze.

when you opened the bedroom door, hyunjin was sitting there. he gave you a crooked smile.

"i made you breakfast and got you a coffee from the coffee shop, in case you felt super hung over. once you're feeling up to it, can we talk about something?" his words made you want to violently hurl. you most likely said some vulgar thing while drunk, and he didn't feel comfortable being around you. however, you were going to face it and atone. you didn't want to lose hyunjin.

you carefully sat down beside him, your legs crossed.

"okay." he began. "this is going to be very awkward, so bear with me. last night, while you were...tipsy...you sort of confessed your feelings to me? it wasn't very direct, but you did kiss me really romantically, so please be upfront about your feelings. if they're there, they're there. if they're not, they're not."

your face burned. god, why did you make the decision to even get drunk?

"they're there. i've liked you since we met, but it didn't feel romantic until that day when you painted me. since then, i've been a hopeless mess of myself, a puddle, basically. i didn't want to make our friendship weird or anything because you've been nothing short of amazing to me..."

hyunjin interrupted you, a sigh of relief leaving his lips, much to your confusion.

"that's so good to hear. for fuck's sake, if i overthought one more of our interactions i think i was gonna burst." he took your hands in his. "i've been in love with you since we met. i know love at first sight only happens in the books and movies, but i feel like fate brought us together. i feel like i was made to be by your side. i've grown so accustomed to your presence and beauty that i don't think i can live without it anymore. i love very strongly, and sometimes that may be too much to bear, but i swear, if you choose me, i will worship the ground you walk on. you have blessed my life, yn. my mind, my body, and my soul. all drunk off the high that is the very essence of your spirit."

and then he hugged you.

it wasn't tight, like he was scared he'd lose you. it was soft and warm, gentle as his arms encircled around you. you rested your head upon his chest.

"so...are we at a mutual agreement?" you asked, breaking the silence awkwardly. hyunjin looked at you, before erupting into a soft giggle, his lips curling into a warm smile. "hey! i wanna know...what are we?"

"soulmates, i guess?" hyunjin suggested. and you smiled at him, brushing a stray hair out of his face. "we're not super official yet, so let's start with that."

the dreaded day arrived when you had to leave the home you'd known for the last month. you wanted to stay longer, but you knew you had a life outside of this euphoria. however, you wouldn't be facing it alone anymore. now, you had a boyfriend who was a drama queen and a force to be reckoned with. he'd support you in anything you did.

you stood outside the house with him, his arm wrapped languidly around your waist as you gripped the handle of your suitcase.

"i'll miss this place. there's so many memories here. it's our sacred spot." you murmured sentimentally. he laughed gently, kissing your cheek.

"i know, but we can always come back another time. who knows? maybe we'll buy a place together in this area." hyunjin suggested. after seeing your facial response to that, he grinned sheepishly. "too early?"

you shook your head, giggling. hyunjin gently grabbed your chin, lifting it up a bit so he could see your face better.

"sweetheart, your lip is bleeding." he murmured gently, moving closer to inspect it. "did you notice?"

you shook your head.

"well, i'm not a doctor, but my mother taught me if something gets hurt you should always kiss it better." and he leaned in to softly presss his lips to yours, each movement filled with passion.

it was so funny to you, how you'd came into this situation thinking this trip would change your life for the better, and instead you got something even better.

it must have been a blessing by the gods, granting you this lovely new beginning.

taglist: @darkypooo , @hyunbae-35 , @backintomykpopphaseagain , @stateofdelicategrace , @elizaschuyler18 , @lillithathecat , @imastraykidsfan , @nightimescapes , @mal-lunar-28

@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.

[wowifinallywatched]

Wow I finally watched Monsters at Work (S2)

**Minor Spoilers**

This show is Joy. This show is happiness.

This show is pure enjoyment, forget-about-the-world-around-you fun and indulging in a world full of adventures, Jokes and references to an original movie we hold dear to our hearts, While paving the way for a beautiful new story about a dynamic duo changing the colour of their world and the human world one child at a time.

I think there was a lot of risk, As with any sequel / spin off, of repetitiveness and overall the continuation of the story just not doing well.

But Monsters at Work was perfect.

(In my eyes - You do not have to agree with me, I just want to show my appreciation and love for this show and Story)

This show provided more of the future we've all been so curious about since the end of Monsters Inc (We all knew things worked out with Laugh Power - But did it really?) (Yes, Yes it did.) and the changes it made to the city and their communities as a whole - The politics, The power company's rivalry's, How people feel about laugh power, All of our favourite characters, All of our most disliked characters and so so much more.

They balanced giving a nod to the past, Making references to those original movies between og characters as if they're inside jokes (Which I guess, they are), Seeing characters we love and adore, Seeing scenery that is comforting and familiar, Even items (BOO'S DRAWING ON SULLEY'S DESK - I'M NOT OKAY-) without it being in your face and making it the whole show. Mike and Sulley being a part of the future of this company and caring for their little misfits, without overbearing and letting these new characters shine and share their own stories - It was perfectly balanced.

I love what this show represented as well - Different cultures and races in the human world and monster world, Different couples / sexualities without making it a big fuss (They're just in a happy relationship - That's what matters!), Healthy relationships and really great traits like embracing who you are, Always stand up for what you believe in, Never hesitate to show your Love for the things and people you care about and so much more!

Something I also loved is the representation of the real and healthy relationship between Val and Tylor - And the fact this didn't turn into a romantic relationship.

The first season was about building the foundations of their friendship and really getting to know each other - The second season really tested their friendship and saw to how they would get through these rocky times together.

While there were some moments of heartbreak, sadness and even anger - With communication, Responsibility and ackowledging what they had done, They got through it and came out the other side of it with their bond even stronger than ever! Which I think is something super healthy and important to represent.

And while I see there are a few hints here and there that could definitely lead to a Third season, Which halfway through episode 10 I literally said I would sell my soul for a third season, Once I had finished that final episode, My mind had changed.

The ending of Season 2 was perfect.

It was happy. It was fulfilling. And while I'd be one of the first to hop on Disney plus if a Third season did come out - I feel like they could stop the show here if they wanted to.

I could watch this show forever and ever and ever if I could, But we've all seen what happens when a show continues simply for profit etc. and it loses what that original story is about.

But on the other hand, they have a whole world of Monsters stories and cities to explore that we've only scratched the surface of.

And you never know what might be coming in the future.

All in all, I absolutely adored this show with all my heart and soul and I will forever talk about how perfect (in my personal opinion) it is.

Also there will forever be some references that will never get old.

Example A: Mike getting covered by logo / barcode etc

Example B: Roz (Period. She has so many good ones)

Example C: Boo. (Anything really, I just love their relationship)

100000000000000000000000000000000000000 x infinity / 10

I love you Monsters Inc world. Thank you for making me feel protected and Loved, Even if I couldn't be apart of your world.

And don't forget, This show wasn't made just for kids.

Oh no.

It was made for those Monsters Inc kids, now all grown up.

(And for everyone and anyone!)

[vhstown]

pavitr prabhakar ★ general headcanons

content/warnings: implied/mentions of death (his parents+uncle), mentions of bullying, gayatri x pavitr, written by a coconut who is not indian PLS CORRECT ME!!

a/n: the sunny boy himself... (ugly crying) I LOVE HIM. loosely based off of the scraps of canon that i could find. maybe a little projection... (i am desi) atsv version pavitr! written at midnight and not very edited 💀

For some background, Pavitr was born in Southern India (likely Tamil Nadu or Kerala) so one of his first languages was Tamil! A village / small town boy at heart.

After his parents passed at a young age he moved to Mumbattan with his Aunt Maya and Uncle Bihm (of course) and it is very very different!!!

Obviously Pavitr has to learn Hindi and Marathi properly in order to fit in AND English my boy has to be multi-lingual from the start...

Even from early on Pavitr was bullied because he didn't fit in with the city kids. Gets called pagal Prabhakar (crazy Prabhakar — a bit like puny Parker?) and a slew of other names because of his accent, how he mixes up the languages, and the fact that he lives with his aunt and uncle rather than his parents.

Eventually by the time he's in his early teens he "assimilates" in terms of the language and culture but he's a scrawny kid so he still gets bullied... kids are ruthless bro don't you got the JEE to study for 💀

God forbid if anyone found out about his emo phase at that time... Pavitr's just getting onto social media and when he sees the emo subculture he just takes it and runs. (He stops out of embarassment when his Aunt Maya finds out why he's stealing her kajal... There are photos out there somewhere.)

Also meets Gayatri during his lil emo phase. Definitely a chill popular girl and definitely sticks up for him (it's giving Indian Forest Gump... does anyone know about that adaptation 😭)

He's a bit hesitant about Gayatri at first since the popular kids kind of dogpile on him all the time but eventually they become a little duo and he crushes HARD

Enter hopeless romantic Pavitr he is the embodiment of the song "Love Spell" by Param Pannu (Spotify link it's a BOP)

Plus you know he's in love when he admits he had an emo phase to you... in the middle of his emo phase. (Gayatri has all those pictures saved by the way.)

Then comes Mumbattan Visions Academy!! (according to the wiki that's where he goes.)

Of course we know that Pavitr is quite naturally smart so the entrance exam is no problem (RAFFLE BOY like Miles 😊😊😊)

But he is so super concerned about getting in with Gayatri so a few weeks before the exams they're studying together (doing anything but study)

My girl Gayatri is trying to help him out and he has no idea what she's saying and she's so smart and literally knows twice the amount of info you need to know so my boy Pavitr is sweating BULLETS the day before (exam is so easy he thinks he's sitting the wrong one LMAO)

Pavitr does NOT want to stay at the dorms he'll defo miss his auntie and uncle too much (and his auntie's cooking) but he begrudgingly goes anyway...

Enter NADEESH (his universe's Ned counterpart I totally just made up...)

They're roomies and Nadeesh is from Bengal and they actually bond quite easily considering they're not from Mumbattan he's a STEM boy and has a love/hate relationship with it (super smart though maybe just not at school... gadget stuff 😱)

Pavitr doesn't know a LICK of Bangla but Nadeesh teaches him some perhaps to rizz up Gayatri... (they're all vulgar or swear words or words Pavitr picked up from hearing Nadeesh's mum speak on the phone 💀)

SPEAKING OF GAYATRI yeah she's slaying school and also has a lil modelling thing going on too. STEM girlie and fashion girlie and knows multiple languages (her father knows a couple considering he's an officer)

Pavitr is a hopeless romantic but he's just hopeless when he asks her out in Bangla trying to be cool and doesn't realise he called her a whore... (he's so going to kill Nadeesh.)

She finds it HILARIOUS though and they start dating and everyone lived happily ever after and NO ANCIENT YOGI TIME MY BOY IS SPIDER-MAN NOW 🤯🤯🤯🤯

I think Pavitr's initial approach to being Spider-Man is very... impractical. Given he's just gotten his powers and gotten his naturally buff abilities and always amazing hair (yes that is part of his powers) (yes he asked the yogi for it), he's very spontaneous and disorganised. He probably has the stupidest most impractical suit and sweats like HELL in it (kind of like the one in the comics?) My boy's grades kind of take a hit and so does his little freshman year relationship with Gayatri.

My guy Nadeesh is chill though he knows instantly like Pavitr isn't subtle about it... (they're both night owls and Nadeesh is like cramming asf and Pavitr swings in without thinking and he's just like... "okay dude I have a physics exam tomorrow idgaf 😭 wait but that so cool though can I help—")

Spider-Man, Spider-Man, does whatever a— Okay his Uncle Bihm dies. You know how it goes.

Gayatri breaks up with him (it's exam season and she wants to "take a break".) His uncle is dead. He's flunking school (for real this time) Emo phase 2? Maybe not...

Pavitr ends up spending a lot more time with Maya and while he's a little irrationally spiteful he learns the importance of taking care of the little family he has left. Pavitr doesn't have the privilege of that multi-generational village household he had back when he was young, or parents like the rest of his classmates. It's just him and his aunt in that little apartment, a speck in the whole of Mumbattan, the place he has to protect and call home now.

Okay that got sad real fast but HE CHERISHES HIS AUNT hence why he always makes time to have chai with her, no matter how busy he is or how emo he's feeling.

His uncle Bihm had a couple traditional pieces of clothing and Maya makes him try them on. He feels a bit silly especially since he's gotten used to pushing away his culture and mainly speaking English at his new school but then his aunt starts tearing up and he starts tearing up and "you look just like your chacha" and UGH

After a while Pavitr gets himself together and decides to design himself a new suit. He takes inspiration from a couple of his uncle's fancier pieces and also Gayatri's first advert feature (my girl is going places!!!) so his outfit has a lot of meaning to him.

We gotta go BACK for the yo-yo though y'all. I'm so certain that Gayatri had a yo-yo when they were younger and he learnt it just to impress her... SO HE HAS A YO-YO AS PART OF HIS GEAR 😱😱😱

Of course these little signs add up and Gayatri is like half-sure he's Spider-Man (but not entirely cause when she's saved in the film she's a bit taken aback when he hugs her... my girl is smart but you always got a lil uncertainty!!! Maybe she figures it out after that though...)

Obviously he flunked those exams considering he was NOT studying while he was grieving and when Gayatri checks up on him he's of course not doing the greatest despite his little comeback. However...

"I can help you review if you want?" she asks him. Pavitr's smile comes back that day.

But my boy STILL CANNOT CATCH A BREAK because Gayatri's father gets promoted to Police Captain and is suddenly very protective of his daughter

There's a lot of awkward moments where Pavitr has to play off his association with Gayatri (puts the hopeless in hopeless romantic yet again.) No, she never told him they were dating before (and those pictures are in a SAFE trust) though they're not exactly dating now.

Gayatri is pretty indifferent about it all, to be fair. She doesn't exactly care if her father finds out (and hopefully she can tell him soon) but she also doesn't want her dad to be disappointed in her considering she looks up to him a lot.

A BIT OF GAYATRI HEADCANON but I feel like she's very academically gifted but doesn't exactly want to go into STEM? Fashion is her thing and she eventually might want to go into acting (like this girl in her classes called Meera Jain... OUUU rivalry but not really they're besties I fear)

Gayatri definitely gossips and gushes to Meera Jain about Pavitr like how he gossips and gushes to Nadeesh. They both give the other contrasting advice (they're still not together... SITUATIONSHIP 💀💀💀)

It's not as bad as when Pavitr called Gayatri a whore by accident but getting together again is definitely awkward when they go to get lassi at that very overpriced store that opened up that Pavitr most definitely cannot afford (smiles and fights to pay while a part of him dies inside)

Though their relationship is stronger this time! Pavitr does still have his secret as Spider-Man, but things are looking up! Especially when he finds out that he's not the only Spider-Man (ENTER ATSV CANON STORYLINE 😱😱😱)

Endless high school antics I love this dude and his lil friends

That's it for now I think THANK YOU FOR READING!! I so wish there was more content on him but I had to take matters into my own hands...

🕸️��🪀

y'all better stop sleeping on pavitr now... HES SO AHHHH I LOVE HIM YOU DONF UNDERSTAND HES THE DUDE EVER

don't talk about my other wips. or why im uploading this at midnight.

ALSO if you are desi (particularly indian) please correct me OR FEEL FREE TO ADD ON i am so whitewashed and my boy needs to be done justice

reblogs so super appreciated! if you wanna read the rest of my atsv stuff click here :p

[aalissy]

Future Plans

Day 17 is finished! I hope you like it!! I loveee getting to write fluffy post-relationship Adrienette teehee! They're my fave! Lemme know what you think <3

AO3

Adrien and Marinette sat on the rooftop of Marinette's building, watching the sun dip below the Paris skyline. The evening breeze tousled their hair as they curled up together on her lawn chair, watching the sky slowly begin to darken. Marinette tightened her arms around Adrien, cuddling him to her as the wind sent a shiver of goosebumps up against her arms.

"So, what do you see yourself doing in the next five years?" Adrien asked, tilting his head back to look up at her, his green eyes brimming with curiosity.

Marinette grinned, her gaze drifting off lazily to the Eiffel Tower in the distance. This question was certainly distracting her from the cold. "What is this, a job interview?" she giggled.

“Shut up!” Adrien laughed and she enjoyed the rumble against her chest. “I’m interested!”

Marinette nodded, a spark of humor in her eyes. "Well, you know me, I’m crazy about fashion. I hope to be able to get an internship somewhere in the future. Maybe nothing too big or fancy but just enough to get me started. And then, going past the five-year timeline, I’d like to be able to open my own boutique... start my own fashion line... it’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of doing." 

She finished her statement with a happy sigh, imagining the beauty of having her own fashion business. The idea of owning her own boutique one day seemed impossible but magical.  

"That sounds absolutely fantastic, Marinette!" Adrien exclaimed, turning to face her. "You know, we could collaborate on something together. Your designs plus my modeling skills could mean that we’d have the best fashion business in all of Paris."

Marinette laughed quietly before shaking her head. “I’m not going to force you to model for me, Adrien. I know you quit for a reason. It just wasn’t your dream.” 

“Yeah, but you’re my dream. I just want to be with you and if I could help you fulfill your wishes, that would mean the world to me.”

Marinette let out a soft cry before pulling Adrien up to her, crashing her lips to his in a passionate kiss. There was a pause for just a brief moment before he was kissing her back just as deeply. She ran her fingers through his hair as she deepened their kiss. This, right here, was everything to her.

“I love you,” Marinette murmured after she pulled back for some much-needed air. “So, so much. You have no idea how much that means to me, Adrien. You’ve been my dream too for a very long time now and I never thought I’d hear you say the same about me.”

“I love you too,” Adrien spoke breathily before connecting their lips together again. 

Slowly, they pulled apart, lingering in each other’s arms in the quiet of the evening. Adrien ran his fingers along her arms, warming her prior chill and her eyes fluttered closed at the touch. The city below seemed to slow down, giving them a peaceful moment amidst the bustling life of Paris.

"I can imagine us traveling together. When we’re older and are an incredible designer and model duo," Adrien mused, breaking the silence softly. "Exploring new places, experiencing different cultures. It would be incredible."

Marinette smiled, nestling herself back against the small lawn chair they were in and cuddling Adrien back to her chest. "Yeah, that really does sound amazing. We could visit fashion capitals, attend shows, and maybe even collaborate with designers from around the world."

The idea of blending their love for each other with their passion for fashion filled their hearts with excitement. They talked about attending fashion weeks in Milan, Paris, New York, and Tokyo, envisioning a future where their creations would grace runways and magazines.

"And imagine," Marinette added, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, "we could create sustainable fashion lines, promoting eco-friendly practices and ethical production."

Adrien nodded in agreement, his eyes gleaming with admiration. "That's a fantastic idea. We could use our platform to inspire some more positive change in the industry."

As the night deepened, they wrapped themselves in a shared blanket, watching the stars twinkle above. The quiet moments between their conversations were filled with a comfortable silence, a testament to their deep connection.

"I'm so grateful for moments like these," Marinette said softly, pressing a kiss against the top of his head. "No matter where life takes us, I know we'll always have each other."

Adrien leaned into her embrace, feeling a profound sense of contentment. "I’m so glad I found you."

They stayed on the rooftop, lost in dreams of the future, cherishing the love that bound them together. In that peaceful night, under the starlit sky, Adrien and Marinette found solace in each other's arms, knowing that their journey was just beginning, filled with endless possibilities and shared adventures.

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

I love all the world building you’ve shared so far and the details about the religions !!!!!!!!! Will your version of the nether have the same type of world building ? In jessons story the nether really just contained a castle and then the rebellion’s safe hold. Though here are you going to take it an actual kingdom with surrounding villages or forts or even temples for worship of the judge ? You said before that the shadow knights only made up a part of the judgements kingdom, so is there paths to travel in the nether ? Are you going to go into detail about how all of the judgements groups plus SK work together in both worlds ? Also are you going to talk about the premature shadow knights or any ruins of the first base that was created after the judgement was sealed in the nether ?

Fukcing love getting Judge questions lmao yayyyyyy. also tyyyyy

(was going to answer it yesterday but was busy, sorry)

The Nether/The Abyss will be getting a bunch of world building too, because i'm a completionist and I will not create (or adopt) a world and not fully develop it lmoa.

The Abyss, at its very heart, has the fortress. It's almost part of the abyss, instead of being a structure built within it, and it is obviously where Judgement rests, and keeps his sacrifices and personal prisoners. It's bare of most furniture, since he has no need for physical comforts when he is not a physical individual, but he has his throne and his dining table, where he hosts feasts bc every god needs to show its followers some sign of love occasionally. his throne is like surrounded and adorned with candles and bones, and generally just offerings from his followers who would (and are trying to) end the world just to please him.

SKs (or just 'Knights' in my rewrite) at first began camping up around the fortress in tents and small hiding holes, when they were first created, however over time, they began to create more complex structures to house themselves and exist within. Humans also contributed, when they began being invited into the abyss to worship, so a fully-fledged society and culture began to develop, with art and entertainment, and music all individual to the city. The city around the fortress is actually liveable for the average person, if the average person were able to stomach violence and such enough to not run into the dark corners of the abyss in fear and disgust.

Temples do exist around the city, though they do serve different purposes. For example, temples on the outskirts of the city, closer to the wraith fields (i'll... get to that... at some point. Also, wraith = shadow souls), are used for human occupants to sacrifice themselves to host wraiths, however those closer to the centre of the city are unable to do this, and so they will be used for other means of worship, which i won't go into right here bc it's religion talk. i'll save it for another post (potentially).

Large communities of Destroyer worshippers that live in their own villages and such do have access to the nether, though it can be rather... inconsistent. Doorways don't stay open forever, especially when made by weak magic users, so they will only have access every couple of weeks for a few hours at a time. However, this is enough for them. Messengers are sent back and forth, as are resources, materials, prisoners etc. These particular communities often have at least 1 knight within them, usually between 2-4, and the ones with more knights are considered more highly by other worshippers (hence why Cotk is one of the most well-known judge-worshipping communitiy, since there are 10 knights) and other knights will try and fill the space if one that inhabits an overwold village dies. The city is great but many knights do enjoy the freedom of the overworld, and ruling over their own small community.

They function very similarly to normal villages, except they don't have a lord. The hierarchy has humans that converted to the religion at the bottom, then the humans who were born into the religion, then the human priests and priestesses, then the Knights, then human prophets, and then Judge himself. The hierarchy within the Knights also exists, with 'heretic' (irene-worshipping) prem knights at the very bottom, and Judge's generals (usually mutated or magic-using knights who were born into the religion) at the very top. However, Knight hierarchy can be easily cheated, depending on how violent or cruel a knight is getting them landed higher on the pyramid than they are meant to be.

The human inhabitants of the over-world villages often act like normal people, except they have a more... peculiar relationship with death, and willingly send their dead to the abyss hoping they would be turned into knights (though that is often not the fate they meet). They also have a similar, though undeniably particular, culture to the city, with their own personal flairs and quirks.

The City within the Abyss functions similarly to that, of course, except the humans within the abyss are often thought of (and think of themselves) more highly than over-world humans, and are put on a similar level to low-level knights instead of on an entirely different tier. They are able to score a variety of jobs, however most humans try to get jobs in the temples, in the fortress, or trying to service the high-ranking knights however they can, as those are the more... high-value jobs they are able to achieve. They cannot get much higher, and if they show any potential to, they will be turned into knights to 'keep the balance'.

Prem knights are treated kinda like babies, and are always being spoken about as if they'll always end up killing their most loved individual. For the first few years, this is how it's spoken about, and then slowly, as the other knights begin to realise that they don't seem to be maturing any time soon, begin to accuse them of heresy and not being fully committed. Knights and humans alike will then try and pressure them into maturing, and if they don't bow to the pressure, will sacrifice them to Judge to display what a true knight should act like.

Prem knights that don't want to mature will then often run off outside of the city to try and find somewhere safe to live, but will often be eaten by wraiths before they even manage to past the Field. Those that do manage to cross will likely be eaten by something else that resides where the light of the cities fires cannot reach.

[blueberry-ovaries]

MISC. TAG GAME:

thank you for the tag @ronald-speirs, @panzershrike-pretz @malarkgirlypop and @grumpy-liebgott !!! sorry it took me so long!

Favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

oooh okay so recently i came back from europe, and i literally loved it so much! i oddly enough LOVED vatican city! and i absolutely adored venice and paris! however, london was also really nice! (i cannot decide i’m so sorry😭)

Something you’re proud of yourself for?

Honestly, going to University! Even when it’s hard and i hate it and have no idea what i’m doing, the fact i made it into university is something i’m very proud of!

Favourite books?

the picture of dorian gray - Oscar Wilde

a good girls guide to murder - Holly Jackson

5 survive - Holly Jackson

the outsiders - S.E Hinton

of mice and men - John Steinbeck

Something that makes your heart happy when you think about it?

my dog :) - his name is cisco and he was free to a good home and under fed, and now he gets treats every time we leave the house and sleeps on the bed

Favourite thing about your culture?

about being Australian? I would suppose our love for sport. We play so many sports over here and we support the aussies even if we don’t like the sport! For example the Matilda’s, our women’s soccer team! Soccer isn’t as big as AFL over here, but i’ve never seen so much support behind Womens soccer, let alone ANY soccer, as we’re very proud of our sporting teams!

When did you join the HBO War fandom? What was the first show you watched?

close to two years ago? i’m not too sure, but i watched BoB first!

Have you read any of Easy Company’s books? If so, which ones were your favorite?

I have not! but i am trying to get my hands on the Dick Winters and Ron Speirs books!

Favorite HBO War character and your favorite moment with them?

Babe Heffron! and the “are you serious?! only the goddamn nuns call me Edward” BUT the scene with Gene in the fox hole where Babe mocks Gene calling him Babe is a very close second

Do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

i have been known to dabble in other fandoms on other apps in fanfic writing 🤭

Favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

ANDREW GARFIELD!!! and i am The Amazing spider-man enthusiast!!! (plus hacksaw ridge is a masterpiece)

Favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

Some quotes my dad likes to tell me when i’m really anxious over university/ actively having a panic attack are:

“you can only do what you can do” - which pretty much means that all i can do is my best, and the rest will sort itself out, there’s no use stressing over situations i have no control over.

“how do you eat an elephant?” - which basically means, to tackle something large you take it one step at a time, ergo - to eat an elephant you eat it piece by piece

Random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

Oh God, i’m not a very interesting person 🧍🏼‍♀️

I got swooped by birds in a century once and have hated birds ever since

If you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?

i do not have a beta reader 🤭 so position is potentially open 🤭

Three things that make you smile?

- sunsets! i LOVE watching sunsets i just think they are so pretty!

- rainy days (only when i’m inside) But i love rainy days, when i can sit by a window to read or do homework etc. I just think there is something so beautiful about rain!

- chocolate chip cookies :) my FAVOURITE cookies! i do not care if they are basic i love them sm

Any nicknames you like?

most of my nicknames :) But especially the nicknames that my parents give me :))

List some people you love to see around on tumblr:

i’m so sorry if i forget anyone @malarkgirlypop @ronald-speirs @ronsparky @mads-nixon @panzershrike-pretz @executethyself35 @next-autopsy @winnielefou @1waveshortofashipwreck @footprintsinthesxnd @caffeinated-fan @dontirrigateme @softliebgott @xxluckystrike @easycompany123 (+ all my mutuals who i have not tagged, love y’all i just have shocking name recollection)

What would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

i mean it would depend on what kinda zombies?? But most likely keeping friends and family alive.

Realistically, dying. i’m not dealing with all that.

Favorite movie?

mulan!!! i LOVE mulan (clearly… i’m literally writing a fic with mulan ideas)

Do you like horror movies?

i got a live hate relationship with them. Like i HATE religious horror with a passion, it freaks me the fuck out, but the conjuring series has great story lines?? However i watched the nun once and i swear to god i almost shit myself whenever k had to leave my room at night?! I was CONVINCED that motherfucker was gonna be in my house.

NO PRESSURE TAGS: @mads-nixon @easycompany123 @executethyself35 @montied @ronsparky @dontirrigateme (plus everyone else who would like to do this! consider this an offical tag!)

[bookgeekgrrl]

My media this week (3-9 Nov 2024)

welp. that sure was a week that happened.

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

😍 reasons why you don't want to talk (about reasons why you don't want to talk) (napricot) - 61K, post EG/TFATWS fix-it that was amazing and so satisfying. [tbh i usually prefer to ignore EG/TFATWS entirely but this author is so damn good; I trust them implicitly]

😊 ripples all the way down (iriswests) - 57K, slow burn buddie

🥰 No Needles series (sal_si_puedes) - 68K, suits D/s fic, reread, forever fave

💖💖 +85K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖

center of gravity (spqr) - Suits: Mike/Harvey, 16K - absolutely amazing fic, delightful read, extremely unusual AU

Rank Hath Its Privileges (One-EyedBossman (desert000rose), SecretFandomStories) - MCU: Steve & Natasha, 18K - DOLI #15; Steve & Natasha have a besties night in and catch up

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

Would I Lie To You? - s16, e9

Jet Lag: The Game - Hide + Seek (ep 1)

Rescue & Restore - 1871 Candy Drop Roller Restoration

Handsome - Pretty Little Episode #12

Handsome - Molly Shannon asks about Irish Goodbyes

Dirty Laundry - s4, e7

Jet Lag: The Game - Tag Eur It 3 (ep 1-6)

Decoding the Afterlife: Ancient Egyptian Tombstones With Dr. Nicky Nielsen - Session 3: Reading Divine Epithets & Offerings

Seas The Day: Life Lessons From Cephalopods With Dr. Sarah McAnulty - Session 4: Respecting Our Elders: Ancient cephalopods to today

What We Do In The Shadows - s6, e5

Gastronauts - s1, e3

Brilliant Minds - s1, e1-6

D20: Adventuring Party - "Pigeon Lord Ishii" (s18, e7)

D20: Misfits & Magic 2 - "The Heart of Weugan" (s23, e7)

Doctor Odyssey - s1, e6

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

⭐ Lost Notes: Groupies - Lori Lightning and the Baby Groupies

⭐ Lost Notes: Groupies - The Fairytale of Miss Pamela

⭐ Lost Notes: Groupies - Girls Together Outrageously

⭐ Lost Notes: Groupies - Hollywood Encounters

The Curious History of Your Home - Bins

The Curious History of Your Home - Dish Washing

Re: Dracula - November 4: My Jonathan

Pop Culture Happy Hour - The Penguin

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Weed Week: Get Inside the CannaVan

If Books Could Kill - Sam Harris's "The End of Faith"

Wait Wait… Don't Tell Me! - Outtakes: An airline is being sued for carelessly handing out what?

Talk From Superheroes - Agatha All Along

It's Been a Minute - The hot mom rom-com phenomenon

Pop Culture Happy Hour - YouTube Rabbit Holes That Are Great Distractions

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Weed Week: Dope Lake

Switched on Pop - Did Kendrick Lamar kill hip-hop?

Re: Dracula - November 5: Three Graves to Find

⭐ 99% Invisible - Meet Me at Riis

The Allusionist - 165. Fiona part 1

⭐ Vibe Check - One Hell of a Contradiction

Off Menu - Ep 270: Sebastian Stan

Decoder Ring - A Feel-Good Story About the End of the World

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Weed Week: Jirzankal Cemetery

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Weed Week: San Francisco Cannabis Buyers’ Club

⭐ Lost Notes: Groupies - The Oral History of Star Magazine

Dinner’s on Me - ZACHARY QUINTO

The Curious History of Your Home - Forks

Imaginary Worlds - Why The Future is (Doctor) Doom

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Heretic And What's Making Us Happy

Dear Prudence - I’m Sick of Hearing My Friend Cry About Her Job. Help!

Dear Prudence - Prudie Plus: It Really Should Be All About Me

Endless Thread - Awoken by a Lamp

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Weed Week: The International Church of Cannabis

The Sam Sanders Show - Inside 2024’s Tech Revolution with Journalists Taylor Lorenz & Elise Hu

The Curious History of Your Home - Coffee

Lost Notes - S1 Ep. 2: Outlaws of the Airwaves: The Rise of Pirate Radio Station WBAD

ICYMI - The Fashion Expert Twitter Loves to Hate

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

Presenting Barry Manilow

Stray Cats

Presenting Bay City Rollers

The Struts

AC/DC

Multi Cello Retro TV/Video Game

Lacrimosa [a playlist described as "moody classical music with dark academia aesthetics" and it was great!]

Judas Priest

HorrorPops

HorrorPops Radio

[manic-maniac-man]

Nicolas Andreas Taralis

SS08 interview

What did you intend to express through this collection? What was the most important point in this collection?

This collection was very much about renewal I wanted to really push the limit of what a house like Cerruti stands for as a brand and historically what it was. Cerruti was always about a certain lifestyle with an emphasis on quality tailoring, materials and structures. The idea of a timeless elegance has always been of pivotal importance for the house but so has the idea of being contemporary or of our time. I tried to reinterpret these elements in a totally new and extremely personal way for now, for 2008. Cerruti 1881, the traditional collection, is about where the house came from, its infancy, youth, and now maturity reinterpreted more literally, With the new Cerruti collection it is precisely that that we are doing a new collection, a new departure and it's a direction forward to the future thinking about my own generation.

What are the interesting points about in creating a collection for a venerable brand like Cerruti? Are there any difficulties?

Mr. Cerruti has been at the heart of his house personally for the better part of 35 years, and it was an extremely personal collection during his time, I couldn't just come and do facsimiles of his work. The Cerruti house lost this soul unfortunately. I try in my own modest way to rediscover this soul that was lost. It was evident that it needed to become personal again, this is what made the house valid and strong at the time, and this is what I hope to bring to it again. The difficulty of course arises that in order for it to become personal again. I needed also discover myself in the collection this implies very difficult decisions and where to make the separations, where to take the risks.

Where do you get the inspiration?

I would like very much to give you an extremely clear idea, some names, etc, but in fact it's never so simply said. Inspiration can come from so many places: experiences, friends, encounters, the light at early morning sunrise... it's so plural and vast! This season, it came from the image of a very decadent elegance, and the image of the smoking as the 'ne plus ultra jacket' for which the house was so famous.

You have the experience at Dior Homme and other top brands. What did you get from them?

An absolutely fantastic experience and an understanding of the totality of fashion that you should never isolate it from real life.

What kind of brand do you intend to turn Cerruti

into? I would be most pleased if I could bring a soul back to the house, to bring a vitality and energy back to the name and the collections and to make the house valid once again in fashion. I would love to see Cerruti as incredibly strong and modern, desirable and with a new and unmistakeably clear point of view.

What kind of situation you are in with your own brand?

I chose to focus on Cerruti now, the project requiring my full dedication and presence to make it work. When I arrived, there were no teams anymore, no studio, no atelier, nothing We had to start totally from scratch. As for my personal expression, I will have to find my own aesthetic to bring to Cerruti this is exactly what I hope to bring to the brand.

Right now you are based in Paris. For you, what kind of city is Paris?

Paris is a fantastic city with so much warmth, light and energy. It's my adopted hometown and one that I feel ever more comfortable in as the years go by. There's a real curiosity about fashion and this is really a city very curious about newness, where the culture of fashion is not strictly business. It's incredibly nourishing.

How do you spend your time when you have a day off?

Day off??? (Laughs) First I sleep for a long time, then I stay at home, listen to music and not think about work. That's luxury!

How do you think about today's men's fashion in general?

I try not to think about it too much to be honest. To remain a little bit naive... Spontaneity is fundamental. This is the only way I can manage to be sincere with myself and do things that feel right.

What do you want to deliver the people, creating this collection and your own collection?

I would like to make beautiful collections, to make people feel beautiful and good about themselves. That's what this is all about in the end, isn't it?

[escapingrealityforamoment]

•You have an accidental encounter with actor Jonah Hauer-King in the streets of London leads to a remarkable love story, filled with serendipity, laughter, and the enchanting backdrop of the city's hidden treasures.

As you walked through the bustling streets of London, a light drizzle began to fall from the gray skies above. You huddled under your umbrella, hoping to shield yourself from the rain. Lost in thought, you accidentally bumped into someone, causing your umbrella to slip from your grasp.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, flustered by the sudden collision. As you looked up, your gaze met the warm, captivating eyes of Jonah Hauer-King, the actor you admired so much.

Jonah chuckled softly, a charming smile gracing his lips. "No worries at all. It's a crowded street, and accidents happen." He bent down to pick up your fallen umbrella and extended it towards you. "Here you go. You might need this."

You accepted the umbrella with gratitude, your heart pounding in your chest at the unexpected encounter. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice betraying a mixture of excitement and shyness.

He tilted his head, curiosity evident in his eyes. "I don't think we've met before. Are you from around here?"

You shook your head, a shy smile playing on your lips. "No, I'm actually visiting from out of town. Just happened to be in the right place at the right time, I suppose."

Jonah's eyes sparkled with genuine interest as he asked, "What brings you to London?"

You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. "Well, I've always been captivated by this city's rich history and vibrant culture. It's been a lifelong dream to explore London's hidden gems and iconic landmarks."

A flicker of excitement crossed Jonah's face. "You know what? I have a few hours free today. Would you like a personal tour guide?"

Your heart skipped a beat, overwhelmed by his unexpected offer. "Are you serious? I mean, I don't want to impose or take up too much of your time."

Jonah waved off your concerns with a warm smile. "Nonsense! It's the least I can do after our little collision. Plus, I enjoy showing people around my favorite spots in the city."

You couldn't believe your luck as you found yourself embarking on a magical adventure through the winding streets of London, with Jonah as your guide. He took you to quaint cafes hidden in narrow alleyways, shared fascinating stories about the historical sites you visited, and made you laugh with his witty remarks.

As the day turned into evening, you found yourselves sitting on a bench in a serene park, watching the sun dip below the horizon. The rain had ceased, and a gentle breeze whispered through the trees.

"I can't thank you enough for today," you said softly, unable to tear your gaze away from Jonah's captivating features. "It's been more incredible than anything I could have imagined."

Jonah turned to you, his eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored your own feelings. "Believe me when I say it's been my pleasure. Sometimes, unexpected encounters turn out to be the most wonderful experiences."

A moment of silence passed between you, the air thick with anticipation. And then, without hesitation, you leaned in, closing the distance between you. Your lips met in a sweet, tender kiss, the culmination of a day filled with serendipity.

As you pulled away, a smile tugged at Jonah's lips. "I guess London has a way of bringing people together," he whispered.

You nodded, feeling an indescribable connection forming between the two of you. In that moment, you knew that this unexpected encounter would forever be etched in your heart as the beginning of a beautiful love story.

And as you continued to explore London hand in hand, you realized that the city held countless more adventures for you and Jonah to embark on together. From strolling along the iconic Thames River to indulging in the vibrant nightlife, each moment was filled with laughter, joy, and a deepening bond.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. The initial chance encounter had blossomed into a profound connection that neither of you could ignore. Despite the demands of Jonah's acting career and your own commitments, you found a way to bridge the distance and make time for each other.

Whether it was stealing stolen moments on film sets or rendezvousing in quaint cafes, your love continued to grow. You became each other's confidants, supporting one another through the highs and lows that life inevitably brought.

Together, you discovered the beauty of shared dreams and aspirations. Jonah's talent and determination inspired you to chase your own passions, encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone and embrace new opportunities. And in return, you became his unwavering source of support, cheering him on as he conquered the silver screen and watching proudly as his star soared.

The world seemed to melt away when you were in each other's arms. In the quiet moments, you reveled in the simplicity of just being together, finding solace in the warmth of your love. Love letters were exchanged, whispered promises made, and memories captured in the tender embraces that defined your relationship.

As time went on, you realized that love had a way of creating its own destiny. And although you couldn't predict what the future held, you knew that with Jonah by your side, you were ready to face any challenge that came your way.

And so, as the city lights twinkled around you, you made a silent vow to cherish every moment, savor every touch, and embrace the unpredictable journey of love that had begun with a serendipitous encounter on a rainy London street.

Together, you and Jonah were writing your own love story—one that would forever be remembered as a testament to the magic that can unfold when two souls collide in the most unexpected of ways.

[synergysilhouette]

What if "Raya and the Last Dragon" was a musical? (Concept)

Lemme explain: I REALLY wanted Raya to be a musical. Whenever Disney musicals take place in specific cultures, it sounds GORGEOUS. I mean, just look at the score that James Newton Howard did! Not sure who would do the lyrics, though Stephen Schwartz is the obvious answer. Of course, this wouldn't fix certain story issues I have with it, but I already made a post about that. Something important to note: in my rewrite for the film, the story takes place in a multicultural city in Heart rather than being a travel story, since the original film was a travel story, and my idea about each land representing a specific SEA country would be undermined if we were only in each spot for 10-15 minutes. Tell me what you think about it:

"The Druun"--It'd be a good prologue song in my opinion, and would set the serious and dire tone about unity and the fractured nature of Kumandra. It'd be a short song, but still something eye-catching. It'd be neat if it took inspiration from Indonesian music, given the shadow puppets the original film uses in the prologue.

"Dewdrop"--I love the idea that this is the song that Chief Benja sings to Raya as she grows up in order to convince her to unite the tribes. It'd show how Heart used Sisu's gem in order to focus on making their land a safe haven for those from other parts of Kumandra who want to live peacefully without the threat of warfare. The title would not only reference Benja's nickname for Raya, but also stating that she will be the drop of rain that precipitates the storm of change (plus the dragon's are pretty tied to rain, so it'd be a nifty reference). The song would take mostly from Vietnamese music, given that in my rewrite, Heart is inspired by Vietnam.

"Dep La"--I'm kind of confused on the meaning of this phrase between Namaari and Raya, but let's assume it's a term of endearment for now (and if that doesn't work, the phrase could always be changed since they're kids at this point). They'd meet each other a little bit earlier just so we'd get a montage of a couple years as they become close friends and bond over their hope for unity. I kind of imagine this being a long song, with it being cut off in the middle when Raya shows Namaari where Sisu's gem is. When Namaari reveals her true nature, she sings a darker version of the song, which I suppose could also count as a reprise. It'd start out being largely based on Vietnamese music before blending other cultures to represent unity. In my rewrite, Fang is from a predominantly Indonesian-inspired land with Bruneian and Malaysian influences, so maybe the latter two inspirations could make up the predominant sound since Indonesia was the inspiration for the opening track.

"Trust Me (The Last Dragon)"--Following the time skip, Raya is venturing outside of Heart in order to find Sisu in Tail, though she hides this by stating she wants to invite the chief to a feast in Heart where all the other chiefs (and their gem pieces) will be to discuss the matter of the Druun. This is true in any case (though the other nations received impersonal invitations), allowing Raya to find Sisu, who tells her that she isn't as great as her siblings, telling her the story of how the gem was created. In the end, she still agrees to help Raya, being more wise and less humorous in this version. Given Awkwafina being a rapper, I'd probably take inspiration from rap music, specifically Filipino rap since Tail (in my version) is inspired by the Philippines. In the end, Sisu is able to become a human with the gem piece Raya gives her, and they return to Heart with Boun's help in return for granting him asylum.

"Careful Who You Trust"--Upon returning, Raya has to attend to her chiefly duties to prepare for the banquet and Boun teaches Sisu about credit. While making friends at first in one of Heart's ports on the outskirts of the chiefdom where people from Talon have showed up, she quickly finds that she cannot pay for the items she "bought," resulting in further acrimony towards Heart and its citizens, with the Talon citizens claiming Heart is known for pretending to be kind, only to stab you in the back later. While saved by Dang Hu at first, Sisu is hesitant to share her true identity, to which the chieftess replied she should've thought harder about trusting her earlier, as Sisu is almost attacked by the druun before Raya, Noi and her monkeys, and Boun save her. Given Talon is inspired by Thailand (with Cambodian and Laotian influences), it'd be neat if the song is shown in a way similar to a Lakhol Khan performance.

"Aimless"--After Raya and the gang run into the chief of Spine and his bodyguard Tong (who is much more cynical and broken in this version), Tong is tasked with torturing Raya into giving them her gem piece, and Sisu sees into Tong's heart and saw how much he's lost in the war. Raya realizes that she's not the only person to have suffered greatly in the last few years, and Sisu promises him that their cause is just, showing her true form. Tong relents, managing to get the chief's gem piece and giving it to Sisu. As she flies, some citizens see her and take it as a good omen--unfortunately, some of those loyal to the individual lands take this as a sign that they are doing the right thing for their people. The song is very solemn and contemplative with a healing tone in the end, taking inspiration from Burmese music.

"Dep La (Reprise)"--Following a heart-to-heart between Namaari and her mother, Namaari is torn on how to proceed with stealing Raya's gem piece, regretting the destruction she caused, but also noting how the gem piece that she took allowed the cunning Fang empire to become futuristic, resulting in their more developed culture exhibited modern technology and fashion. Sisu appeals to Namaari and Raya to trust her with her destiny, though Raya confronts Namaari for the betrayal. Namaari deflects, not ready to take the blame for destroying the world, and thus not apologizing for ruining her friendship with Raya. They battle, and Sisu gets caught in the crossfire. Musically, it's very similar to the original "Dep La" song, but more gritty. I really wanted to do a villain Namari song (as I mentioned in my other post that corrupted Namaari would be so cool), but I ended up keeping the Druun as the main villain. Maybe I'll do an alternate plot (and songs) at some point.

"Kumandra"--A song spread out between the petrification of Raya and the others and the end of the film, as Namaari apologizes for hurting Raya and Raya apologizes for not realizing how much she was focused on her own pain and getting revenge. As the other citizens turn back to normal, they join for the communal feast, as Raya's father is the last to become human again. Musically, it'd be a blend of different sounds from all over SEA, perhaps ending with a shadow puppet play similar to how it began.

Lemme know your thoughts! This is just me spitballing ideas, and I'm by now way an expert on SEA culture. Though this does make me want to create tracklists for other Disney non-musicals.

[toastofthetrashfire]

#5QLS tag

tagged by the oh so lovely @chickenstrangers (<3 <3 <3)

When you get this, list 5 songs from the Asian QL shows that you actually listen to. 🎶They do not have to be custom-made for the series. 🎶Non-western tracks only. Let's support Asian music and languages! 🎶Feel free to tag anyone who may be interested in participating. 🎶Add #5qls tag to your post for others to find the new favourites!

Keina Suda-無垢 (Muku)-Kamisama no Ekohiiki

I love jrock and Keina Suda has such a unique style and voice. It was so nice hearing the song at the end of each episode. Plus it was such a great choice for the show with an upbeat first impression but the chaotic sounds of rock and Keina Suda's emotional almost crying voice. It works so well for the themes and tone of the show.

2. PoLin-蝴蝶 (Butterfly)-DNA Says Love You

A beautiful song for a beautiful show! When I finished watching, I listened to the song over the next week whenever I wanted to recapture the feelings, emotion, and affect of the show. And it's a beautiful song in it's own right!

3. Tulanan Narasetapisarn-หรูเหอ 如何 (Skyline)-I Told Sunset About You

ITSAY is a stunning show and skyline fits so beautifully giving us a strong aesthetic perspective from moment one. I love every version including both Bilkin and PP Krit's, but I go with Tulanan's because it sets up the show so well as a full artistic piece.

4. Moonlight Chicken Cast-The Moon Represents My Heart-Moonlight Chicken

Once again a song that beautifully sets up the tone and artistic perspective of the show. I loved it even more after learning about the song's cultural significance in the chinese diaspora and as a queer love song. If you get a chance go read through some of the many youtube comments, so many different stories about the songs presence and meaning in people's lives. Maybe a month back I was in a nearby city and got to hear a busker perform it on the erhu.

5. HIROBA featuring Ōtsuka Ai-ふたたび (Futatabi)-The End of the World, With You

So pretty, so melancholic and a fantastic ending song for the show.

Okay and a special shout out to Tilly Birds and Jeff Satur who have eaten up a lot of my music listening time since QLs introduced me to them *weeps*

Also as a bonus I thought I'd share another queer Asian artist. They haven't done anything for a QL (though they do have an album called BL), but why not share some other queer Asian artists while I'm at it.

Queen Bee-Impregnable

Okay tagging mutuals who post QL stuff below if you want to participate!

@ablazenqueen @thewayofsubtext @pearlony @synxailla @thepancakelady @lgbtally4ever @africanbarbhie @non-binarypal7 @imminentinertia @maaaar7 @pinkaugustmoon @broidkwhatibedoinganymore @dekaydk @squeakygeeky @tsukki-lovebot @depresseddisasterqueer

Sorry if I missed anyone! If any followers want to join in, consider yourself tagged!

[bumblingbriars]

For Kat and Luna, please!

What is one word you would use to describe your OC’s appearance? How does your OC react to and handle stress? What is your OC’s favorite food? Favorite place? Do they go there often? What do they wish they knew more about? Where did their name come from? Does it have meaning?

What is one word you would use to describe your OC’s appearance?

Luna: Sweet

Kat: Confident

How does your OC react to and handle stress?

Luna: Listens to music, throws herself into making teaching plans for her music class. She's a little bit of a workaholic lol. She's decent at handling it, being an adult, but sometimes it can get overwhelming.

Kat: Tbh depends on what part of her character arc lol. At the beginning, she is a chronic smoker and underage drinker. The only healthy thing she would do is read poetry or books. At the end of it, she listens to music, thinks things through--the only thing that sticks is reading poetry/books. She's not great at handling it at first and often gets anxiety, but gets better over time.

What is your OC’s favorite food?

Luna: She's more of a breakfast gal, loves crepes the most. Especially loaded crepes, but she also loves the classic cinnamon and sugar. She also enjoys seafood a lot!

Kat: Stew, mainly goulash. Also has a huge sweet tooth and dislikes bitter/dry stuff.

Favorite place? Do they go there often?

Luna: A cafe in the heart of Chicago. She goes there very often to make teaching plans and draw.

Kat: Memorial Park in Calumet City, and yes, she goes there often to (illegally) street perform and hang out with the mothers there. She also loves going to the library and bookstores, things she less often goes to for... reasons.

What do they wish they knew more about?

Luna: Her family is second generation immigrants from Switzerland and France, but because her grandparents were so Americanized it's hard to know a lot about the culture.

Kat: Beyond learning the guitar, she wants to know more about who her parents were and how they lived. She has some puzzle pieces, but not all of them...

Where did their name come from? Does it have meaning?

Luna: For Luna, in universe her name is due to her deceased father, who was a literature professor and studier of mythologies. He loved the olden works of Virgil, and found the name Luna in his work Georgics. He and Luna's mom loved this name a lot and gave it to her. There's also a secret reason, but that'll be revealed hehe. For irl, I thought it'd be neat for her to have a fantasical name like Elwood does. Her last name comes from the jazz singer, Ella Fitzgerald :)

Kat: In universe, I'm keeping it just a bit of a mystery as to how Kat's name was workshopped as it'll be revealed later. However, I can say her mother, Gretchen, really loved Anna Karenina. However, she didn't want her name to be a full on reference to the book. Katerina was born! This isn't a spoiler cause it's subtly revealed in the first chapter lol, but her middle name, Anita, is from Anita O'Day. Irl, tbh I really liked how Katerina sounded, plus I love characters that have long fancy names but prefer nicknames (thus, Kat). Plus, I wanted the name to have Kat in it somewhere so she could eventually get the nickname "Kitty" (no bearing on my own nickname, I'm not projecting THAT hard) as many blues and jazz singers get that nickname. Her and by extension Gretchen's last name is from the singer Betty Carter :)