#tbh I just wanted to get all my thoughts down so I could re-read it at some point and relive my experience

[wren-writes-stuff]

From Under The Desk

JaycexFem!Reader

Modern College AU

You have a paper due at midnight. A very important one. You absolutely CANNOT afford to be distracted.

Jayce distracts you.

Warnings: 18+ (this is basically just smut without plot tbh.) Reader is AFAB. Oral sex, cunnilingus, descriptions of genitalia. Small age gap? Like, only a year or two. Does that count? Idk let me know if i missed something <3

You scrubbed a hand across your face, exhaustion tugging at your eyes. It wasn't actually that late- it was only about seven pm. But, you'd stayed up all of last night writing this damned paper, only to go and spend a full day in class afterwards. And now here you were, hunched over your desk like a vulture pecking at your keyboard.

Getting the words down was the easy part. It was making them make sense that made your brain hurt. The amount of words you'd back-spaced over was probably comparable to the ones you'd actually kept.

You took a swig of your energy drink, wincing as the carbonation hit the back of your throat. You don't know why you bothered honestly; it wasn't doing anything for you at this point.

It was then that you heard the lock on the front door click, and the telltale shuffling sounds of someone entering your tiny apartment.

"I'm home!"

You heard Jayce's muffled voice through your bedroom door, but you made no effort to tear your attention away from your computer screen.

"Hon?" You heard him call again, "You home?"

More shuffling. Then, he knocked softly on the door before opening it. "Hon?" He repeated.

"Hey," you said automatically, fingers still flying across your keyboard.

"Hey, you." You could hear the smile in his voice, and it made your stomach flutter a little. "I picked up some takeout for dinner- I even got those little crab rangoons you love."

In your head, you meant to say something like, 'Wow! Thank you, my love. Im so excited to eat my favorite food with you!' But you didn't, leaving only an awkward pause in the back and forth you could barely call a conversation. You scrolled back to the top of your paper to re-read it, skimming for mistakes. Ah- there's a typo here. It should be "perceived", not-

"Hey, are you okay? Did you hear me?"

"What?" You bristled a little bit, annoyed to have been interrupted. You finally turned around to acknowledge him, trying to hide your chagrin. "Oh...sorry. Um, thank you. That was thoughtful."

It had taken a moment to force your eyes to focus on him, after staring at a bright screen for so long. When they did, you found he looked significantly more chipper than you felt. That made sense, you supposed. He had been freed from the confines of student life already, no longer bogged down by trivial things like homework and exams. Lucky bastard.

His eyes grazed across your face, then the rest of your body- and stopped when he found something interesting.

"You're wearing my hoodie,". He said. Irritation clawed at your stomach, and you swallowed the 'so what?' rising in your throat. You really just wanted to get back to work.

"It's comfy," you said instead, shrugging. "Sorry. I hoped you wouldn't mind. Do you want it back?" He shook his head, starting towards you.

"No, it looks good on you. Keep it on." He leaned down to peck you on the cheek, and you smiled tiredly at him. His hair was slightly tousled from a long day at work, and his chiseled cheekbones were smeared with grease. His cologne was mixed with the smell of coal and something vaguely chemical. Truthfully, what you really wanted was to yank off the hoodie, and his clothes too, and pull him into the shower with you- but there was no time for that now. You swiveled your chair around again, going back to your work.

"Im sorry," you said, "This paper is due in a couple of hours and I need to get it done. You should go ahead and eat if you're hungry. You don't have to wait. And please take a shower."

"What?" He teased, "You don't like the smell of hydraulic fluid?" He wrapped his arms around you and dropped his chin on top of your head. You found it difficult to keep yourself upright under his immense weight.

"No, I don't," you huffed. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, but I need to focus on this. But once I'm done, I'm yours for the rest of the night, okay?"

The weight was lifted as he moved away from you, chuckling. "Alright, Alright. I'll leave you to it. God, it's kinda hot when you're mean to me. Maybe you should do that more often."

You swatted his arm, staring incredulously, and he ducked away as he laughed again. "I'm not being mean to you. I thought I was being pretty polite all things considered."

"You are mean to me," he whined. "You wont even let me give you my love and attentioonnn." He gave you fake puppy dog eyes, and you snatched a pencil off your desk, holding it up like you were going to chuck it at him.

"Get out," you warned. He held up his hands in surrender and backed out the door, eyes full of mirth.

"I bet you'd be nicer to me if you ate something."

You threw the pencil as hard as you could, but he shut the door before it reached him, and it bounced off the wood instead. You heard him cackling on the other side, before you heard his heavy footsteps move away.

You huffed, running your fingers through your hair. It was greasy, and in need of a good combing-through. You hadn't really had time for a shower yourself; but it could wait a little longer. You went back to your pecking.

Too soon, you heard the bedroom door open again. "Back already?" You asked mechanically.

"Already?" He repeated. "It's been like an hour." You glanced at the clock on the bottom corner of your screen. He was right. You'd been so focused that you didn't realize how long it had been.

"Whoops." You still didn't cease your typing.

You felt his weight upon you the same as before, forcing a wheeze from your lungs. "Why are you so heavy?" You huffed.

He chuckled, and you felt the vibrations against your back. The two of you stayed there like that for a moment, and you rubbed your eyes again. His warmth was comforting, and dangerously cozy. You were going to fall asleep at this rate. You shrugged, trying to get him to move off of you- but he didn't budge. Instead, he pressed his face into your neck, and his hair tickled your cheek. It was still damp, and you could smell his shampoo- like mint, and something darker, more earthy. You tilted your head to kiss the top of his own, breathing in the scent; but never taking your eyes away from your computer.

"Your food's getting cold, love." His breath tickled your skin, giving you butterflies again. "You should come eat something. You'll feel better."

"Can't," you muttered. Even if you wanted to, the caffeine you'd been chugging all day dampened your appetite, despite your empty stomach. He was probably right, but if you stopped now, you might not be able to start again. You had to capitalize on your focus; you couldn't afford to lose it.

Jayce brushed his lips against your jaw, pressing little kisses into the bone, and down your neck. He trailed a hand down your arm, the one opposite to him, and slipped it across your thigh, into the space between your legs-

'What do you think you're doing?" He stood up straight, taking his hand back. You glared at him, half annoyed, and half aroused. It was only now that you realized he wasn't wearing a shirt- just a pair of sweatpants that accentuated his girth in just the right way. You could see every muscle he worked so hard to build on full display, and your breath hitched. His tanned skin was just as damp as his hair, still shining with water. You wondered if he'd even bothered to dry off when he got out of the shower.

"I'm sorry. I can stop if you really want me to," he said gently. He looked down at you with something on his face you couldn't quite read. He wasn't frowning, nor smiling. His eyebrows were quirked upward just slightly, eyes half lidded. His expression was somewhere between lust and fatigue, you decided. Maybe he'd had a long day, too.

You blinked, trying to keep your eyes open. Maybe you didn't want him to stop- but you had to get this done if you had any hope of graduating next semester. You couldn't afford to fail this class. You looked away from him, feeling torn. In the corner of your eye, you watched him kneel beside you, and felt the weight of his head in your lap. He slid his hands around your waist, one of them between you and the back of your chair, and the other across your lap.

"You don't have to stop," you said quietly. "But I can't, either. This is important."

"Is that what you want though? For me to keep going, I mean?"

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "I do. I just need you to understand that I'm not ignoring you to be mean; I don't want to hurt your feelings because I'm not being an active participant."

He lifted his head, shifting himself between your legs. He had to duck and curl himself up awkwardly to fit himself underneath your desk- it was kind of cute, actually, watching him trying to fit his giant shoulders and long legs into such a tight space.

"I don't think that at all," he said when he was finally comfortable. "I know this it's important to you." He slid his hands up your thighs, letting one of his thumbs land on the spot where he knew your clit to be. He stroked it gently through the fabric of your pants, and you bit your lip to stop the gasp trapped in your throat. His other hand grasped your hip, massaging the soft malleable flesh of your curves with his thumb. He rested his cheek on your knee, looking up at you lovingly.

"You just seem so stressed," he said. "I wanna help you relax." He punctuated his words by swiveling his hand around, sliding his fingers under the curve of your pelvis. Well, 'relaxed' isn't the word you would use to describe yourself right now. A coil had wound itself inside your stomach, and your legs were tense with anticipation. In his hands, you were putty. You couldn't think straight anymore. You tried to focus, tried to keep your eyes on the prize. You were almost done here. Just a couple more paragraphs to go, and then you could-

"Oh-" you gasped involuntarily, something girlish and high pitched. Your face burned with embarrassment- you'd never made a noise like that before. But you couldn't help it- not with the way he was sliding his fingers into you now. You hadn't even realized he had managed to tug your pants down enough to expose you to him.

His other hand, previously on your hip, had slid up your sweater. It was on the small of your back now, pressing you forward. He drew his fingers out of you, slowly, and you bucked your hip forwards with a groan. He was moving so, so slowly. He was being so gentle and sweet, you thought your teeth were going to rot and fall out of your skull. He leaned forward, kissing your stomach, moving down to the side- to your hip, in the crease of your skin where your pelvis met your thigh. You shivered; his lips brushed you so lightly it tickled a bit. Your fingertips buzzed with electricity as you tried to keep typing. But then you felt his tongue sliding between your folds and you couldn't do it anymore.

You let your eyes flutter shut, letting him finally overtake your thoughts completely. You buried your face in your hands, trying to control your ragged breathing as he moved his tongue up, and down, slowly, gently. He pushed his tongue inside of you, lapping at you like he hadn't had a drop to drink in days. You whined, sliding a hand under the desk to grab his hair, to bring him closer to you. You could hear him panting, feel his breath against your pubic mound. His movements grew more desperate at your touch, ever eager to please.

You laid your other arm on the table, resting your head on it like a pillow. You really couldn't stop the sounds escaping from you now. Every gasp, moan, and whimper from you only seemed to further spur him, urging him to move faster. He alternated between fucking you with his tongue, reaching as far inside of you as he could manage, and moving back up to lick tiny circles around your clit.

You moved your hips with his rhythm, desperate for more friction as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to the edge. "Jayce," you whispered shakily, "I-I'm really- mmmfh- close-"

He didn't let up even a little bit, even when you leaned back, pushing his head against you so hard you were worried he'd suffocate. You were almost blinded by pleasure, the coil winding itself tighter and tighter- until it finally snapped.

You cried out his name like a prayer, over and over again as you shook. You clamped your thighs around his ears, wrapping your legs together over his shoulders. You tugged on his hair like it was a lifeline, feeling every crashing tidal wave of your orgasm in full force as your back arched away from your chair. You practically sobbed, your eyes watering. You couldn't help it. It was so good.

He finally stopped when he sensed you'd had enough, slumping in your chair like a rag doll as exhaustion racked your brain through the afterglow. He pulled back, his face shiny with spit and slick. You smiled at him, before letting your head flop back as you closed your eyes.

'That was hot," he whispered. You snorted, not opening your eyes. You felt his fingers brush your skin as he pulled your pants back up, and shivered slightly when the cold wet fabric of your underwear met your overly-sensitive groin. You pressed your toes against the floor to push your chair from under the table so he'd have room to get out.

"That didn't take very long, either" he teased. "You must have been pretty pent up." You heard shuffling as he stood, and you finally opened your eyes when you felt his lips brush against your forehead. You flicked his shoulder.

"You're just good at what you do."

He smiled, his eyes flickering across your face. You reached up to rub your thumb across his chin, trying to wipe off some of the remaining fluids. He grabbed your wrist and pressed a kiss into your palm before you could withdraw it, never taking his eyes off of you.

"Come eat something, please," he whispered. You sighed and glanced at the clock again, considering it- it was almost 9:15. There was still time.

"Alright, alright," you resigned. "Give me five minutes, and I'll be right there."

Jayce made a face you couldn't discern, and let go of your hand. "Okay," he said, and stepped out of the room.

He came back ten minutes later to find you still at your computer. "I couldn't wait any longer," he said- making you jump.

"Augh, I'm sorry, Jayce," you said- and you meant it.

"It's okay," he shrugged, "I had a feeling this might happen. You get so sucked in sometimes. It's endearing, actually."

He set two styrofoam boxes next to you, and opened another for himself. "I thought I would just bring dinner in here. Maybe I could help you edit? Make things go a little faster so we can get you in the shower?" He smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was lodged into the corner of the room, with the desk beside it like an oversized nightstand. There'd be no room to move about, otherwise.

You cracked open the first box, choosing to ignore his quip, and your mouth watered at the sight of your favorite food inside. Ugh, even cold it smelled amazing. You shoveled it into your face with the flimsy plastic fork, newfound hunger making itself evident. You looked to Jayce, intending to thank him for the meal; but you found he was looking at you expectantly.

'What?" You asked through a mouthful of food.

"Did you want my help?"

Oh.

You swallowed.

"Sorry. Um, yes. That might be nice honestly. I could use a break."

He set his food aside, chuckling. "The first one wasn't enough?" He teased. You scowled, only pretending to be upset.

"Whatever man. Switch me places." You stood up to give him your chair, and he complied- though he had to pull the lever under the seat to lower it, to make room for his mile-long legs.

"Alright, let's see, here..."He squinted as he read your work, and you took the opportunity to admire him. God, he really was incredibly handsome. His long, calloused fingers looked enormous over your keyboard compared to your own. His bulky shoulders hunched forward, pulling the skin of his back taught over his muscles. You bit your lip, feeling your arousal coming back through your fatigue. He glanced at you, and you blushed when you caught him staring; as if you hadn't been together long enough by now that this wasn't embarrassing. But he still never failed to give you the warm-and-fuzzies so to speak. He smiled, laughing through his nose.

"What're you looking at?"

You twirled your hair with exaggeration. "Oh, yknow. Just this cute guy I have a crush on, or whatever," you flirted. He rolled his eyes, still grinning to himself.

"Eat your food, dork." He looked back to the screen, and you did what you were told.

It didn't take long. You wolfed down your dinner so fast you even surprised yourself. You stood to collect your trash, and kissed the top of Jayce's head before heading to the kitchen to dispose of it properly. When you came back, he was already standing up to stretch.

"It looks good to me," he said- with his arms over his head, his obliques were in full view and it made you just about weak in the knees. "I think it's ready to submit, if you're happy with it."

You thought about re-reading it one more time- just to be sure- but your brain was so foggy with exhaustion (and maybe some arousal). You trusted Jayce's judgement, too. He'd graduated summa cum laude last year, after all. You were sure he knew what he was talking about.

"Thank you, love. I really appreciate your help." You patted his chest with a weary smile, and sat down to submit it. When you were finally able to click your laptop shut, you were just about to collapse. You looked over to find Jayce already waiting for you in bed, and he opened his arms for you.

"C'mere, you," he crooned softly. You complied, shutting off the table lamp before you crawled across the blankets to meet him. He pulled them over the two of you, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of mint and clean bedsheets. You suddenly felt self conscious, remembering you had forgotten to bathe.

You sat up. "I'm gonna take a shower real quick actually-" but he yanked you back down before you could move, burying his nose in your hair.

"Nooooo," he mumbled. "Stay with me."

"Jaaaayce," you whined, "I smell terrible. Wouldn't you rather I got cleaned up before bed?"

He didn't move, keeping you pinned between his arms. "Mmm, girl stink."

"You- what?" You sputtered, laughing at the absurdity. You tried to move, but he was already snoring softly. You couldn't tell if he was faking it or not, but you gave in anyway. You tangled your legs with his, letting his warmth overtake you and carry you to sleep at last.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 18: First Impressions Are Often Correct

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

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

Word Count: 11.6K

Warnings: I'm going to rate this one 18+ just to be on the safe side. :) References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Mentions of Death, Blood, Gore, Possessive Soldier Boy, Protective Soldier Boy, Soft Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

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

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: I'm so sorry, I know this has been a long time coming. I work hard, but writer's block works harder tbh.

It had to be herogasm. You think to yourself with an audible groan looking up at the mid-century house from your position in the tree-line while watching the couples on the back porch writhe against one another.

The three hour drive from your apartment to Vermont had been uneventful and quiet. Every once in a while Ben would whisper something to you and you would half answer, but only because your mind was somewhere else or rather on someone else.

It was on Rosemary. She had stopped trying to text you or call you, and the silence was worse. You had no idea what she was going to do or what she was thinking. It was a miracle that she hadn’t shown up to your apartment and kicked down the front door before you left. You knew she was angry about the whole situation. And the sooner you dealt with the twins the sooner you could go see her.

Of course you still had no idea how you were going to bring up the conversation with Ben and you knew that there was no way he would let you just leave with no explanation to go talk to her.

This is why I hate texting. I should have just gone to see her, I shouldn’t have told her that Ben was back in a text, if anything that's a three drink minimum. Hell, she's probably half way through a second bottle of wine by now. Something that you also had considered several times today. Guess sobriety is going out the window. Shocker.

Ben kept asking you what was wrong, sensing your discomfort on the drive and held your hand tightly between the two of you, but you only shook your head whenever he asked. He thought that you were having second thoughts of going after the twins, but that was the one thing you were sure of. They deserved to pay for what they did, all of your team did. Anger rises beneath your skin like a roaring crowd when you think of all the years Ben spent alone in Russia being tortured and experimented on. Years that you could have stopped if only you'd known, years that he could never get back, memories that wouldn't fade in the next decade or two, and memories that you hoped you could replace by making him feel loved, by holding him close, and allowing yourself to forget the memories that still plagued you when you thought about the past.

But you still didn't know how the hell you were going to tell him about Rosemary. Every moment it felt like the words were going to vomit out of your mouth, but you clamped your jaw shut. You didn’t want to talk about Rosemary in front of Butcher and Hughie, didn’t want to tell Ben like that. What you needed to say about Rosemary and Lou didn’t deserve to be shouted at him or said in haste, you wanted to sit Ben down and tell him, give him time to adjust to the idea. Because you had no idea how he was going to react to the news that he was a dad and a grandfather.

Would he pull away again? Would he run? Would he leave me? Those thoughts kept swirling around your mind like a mixtape. You were scared that by telling him about her would make him go cold like he did the moment you told him you loved him. You remembered the distant look that replaced his smile as soon as you had uttered those three little words.

Little but not simple. Three little words that launched ships and started a hundred wars. Three little words with the power to create and the power to destroy. Three words that Ben had said to you more times than you could count since he came back to you, and three words you wished you never stopped hearing him say, the three words you always wanted him to say to you.

If Ben pushed you away now, you knew that you wouldn't survive it this time, knew that there was no going back. Which made you more fearful about Rosemary's reaction to Ben coming back into your life.

You were afraid that Rosemary would give you an ultimatum and make you choose between her and Lou or Ben. You really hoped that it didn’t come to that. You had just gotten Ben back and you didn’t want to have to pick between him and your family.

Because Ben is family too. You knew that deep down in your bones, even after everything that happened, Ben was your family. He was the only person who knew you inside and out, the only man you’d ever loved and the only person who understood you. You couldn’t turn your back on him and you didn’t want to shut him out. Not when you loved him more than life itself.

Your frown deepens as you continue to watch the people on the back porch while your supe hearing picks up the moans and sounds of the couples inside and the subtle thump of music, new pop songs that you didn't understand and didn't try. You were up with the times, but it didn't mean you had to like what was happening or the new music being produced no matter how hard Rosemary tried to get you to listen to it.

You sigh again, trying to drown out the sounds by focusing on the wind moving through the trees and the birds flitting through the branches overhead, but it wasn’t working. The beautiful day was already ruined by the loud and messy sounds from the inside of the house. 

“Always wanted to bring you to one of these Sweetheart.” Ben glances over at you with a cheeky grin, lowering the binoculars from his eyes, but then he notes your frown. “Then again-“ His hand comes around your waist to pull you into him. “That means I would have had to share you with someone else, and I’d much rather have you all to myself.”

 You can feel his smirk against your ear, but it does little ease your anxiety about Rosemary and the looming conversation you were going to have with Ben when this was over.

Hughie had disappeared a few moments ago to scout out the inside and to find the twins, while Butcher was doing a walk of the perimeter, leaving you and Ben to wait for the all clear. A welcome break, because every few minutes Hughie would play with a Geiger counter and the high pitched creak-like squeak was giving you a headache. Not to mention annoying you. You'd only been able to have a few sips of your coffee this morning after Butcher and Hughie burst into you apartment, but at least your anxiety was picking up the slack.

Because of course it was.

The house in front of you looked innocent enough on the outside, big windows light wood,  but now that you were here, you really didn’t want to go inside. Despite wanting to face the twins, you didn’t want to go inside and be reminded of the one reason why you stayed away from Herogasm.

At least today we aren’t attending it as much as crashing it.

“Why do you think I hated going to Herogasm?” You murmur, frown deepening at you continue to stare at the house.  The memories of the past had an ugly way of crashing down on you and despite not wanting to make Ben feel guilty, keeping them to yourself made you feel worse. Plus you figured he knew when you were lying, because Ben was basically a human lie detector when it came to you.

Ben sighs, his warm breath washing over the side of your face as his arm tightens around your waist to secure you to him. “Sweetheart please look at me.” His voice is comforting, filled with emotion, but you still don't look at him.

“What?” You whisper, mind still a million miles away.

His fingertips come under your chin to turn your face to his. Ben’s green eyes lock with yours, soft and apologetic, familiar in the best way and weird given the fact that he was wearing his uniform. You’d never seen him look so sorry when he was dressed up as Soldier Boy.

“I would have killed any man who tried to touch you, especially after the night we shared together. When Vogelbaum danced with you I wanted to rip his arms off.”  His eyes darken.

You remembered the way he watched Vogelbaum and you dance together at the premiere with the cameras flashing in your eyes, but then the image of Countess plastered to his hip arises. The way she ran her hands up his chest, the way he turned his gaze away from you to stare at her.

“Yes, but see I never killed any woman that touched you-“

Double standard much?

“Well-“

“Countess doesn’t count.” You snap.

Ben’s thumb strokes along your jaw, before his expression softens again. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve apologized-“ You sigh, suddenly guilty. You hadn't meant to snap at him like that, you were on edge because of Rosemary, not because of what Ben did in the past. You were already starting to forgive him for what he did.

“Not for this.” He takes in a deep breath before he pulls you closer to him. “I’m sorry that I made you think I didn’t want you. Because I do. I don't want anyone else, haven't ever wanted anyone else like I want you. I was so stupid. I fucked those other women because I couldn’t handle how I felt about you and I didn’t think that you would ever want me even a fraction of how much I want you-“

“More.” You whisper before you can stop yourself, laying your hand against the front of his suit.

“That is impossible.” Ben smiles faintly.

You toy with the material, plucking it between your fingers. “It’s okay. I understand why you did it. But it was hard to watch you with them.” You try to fight the image of him and Countess again, that is quickly followed by the memories of the many women over the years you’d see Ben with in public and of course the memory of the first and only Herogasm you ever went to, the one you left early because you couldn’t bear to see Ben with anyone else. The same one that you swore you saw Ben watching you just as closely when Noir tried to reach out for you and you walked away.

It’s different now. You think to yourself. Ben said that he’s wanted me this whole time and I believe him. I don’t think he would lie about something like that, not to mention he’s been more open about what he’s feeling.

“I know.” Ben continues to stroke along your jaw. “But I promise it won’t happen ever again.”

“I believe you.” You lock your arms around the back of his neck to hold him closer to you, loving the way his body felt wrapped around you, like he was molded just for you.

“Good.” He leans his forehead against yours for a moment. "Can I kiss you yet?" Ben's words are quiet, barely above a whisper, so low that you know if you didn't have super hearing you'd have missed them.

"You've never been a patient man. In all the years I've known you." You breathe with a smile.

"Maybe I've just never met someone worth waiting for." Ben's nose nudges into the space between you faces, waiting for you to tell him it's okay and you want to. "But you are Sweetheart."

"You've waited forty years."

"You waited longer."

His words make a ball of emotion lodge in the back of your throat, because it meant Ben listened. He heard everything you said to him and he wasn't going to forget, he was going to make this up to you.

It was hard to say no to him, not when he was smiling at you and gazing at you the way you'd always wished him to.

"We both know I'm a bit more patient than you."

"Maybe."

"You know, maybe we should be focusing on something else right now." You smirk, still keeping your lips just as hairsbreadth away from his.

“It's hard to focus on anything else, not when you’re wearing something like that.” Ben purrs, thumbs brushing against you hips in a way that makes your chest tight.

Your smirk deepens “Oh this old thing?”

At the last minute you had chosen to wear the outfit you had picked when you thought you were going to be going to Russia to get Ben, rather than your old supe suit. You didn’t want to be connected with the person you were then, and despite Ben’s want to hold on to Soldier Boy, you were more than happy to let Indigo go.

The outfit was working better than you thought. The tight black tactical pants, combat boots, black leather jacket, and long sleeved leather corseted blouse that was sinched at your waist all perfectly accentuated the curves that your mother tried to hide. When you had walked out of your closet wearing it, Ben’s entire body had gone rigid.

“What?” You’d asked him with an innocent smile standing just a few steps outside your closet, while watching the tension in his shoulders.

“Damn it sweetheart you’re making this hard.” He had responded, clenching his hands into fists at his sides to hold himself back from crossing your bedroom to touch you. It made you smile wider to understand that he was trying to respect the boundaries you made between the two of you.

“What is it that I’m making hard Benjamin?”

“Fuck. Don’t tease me. Nobody likes a tease.”

You’d smirked at him. “Sorry babe you walked right into that one.”

“It’s not fair-“ Ben had growled.

“What’s not fair?”

“You wearing that, biting your fucking lip like that-“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He’d stalked towards you, eyes dark, causing you to back up until your back hit your pale bedroom wall. His hand had landed next to your head, the other wound around your hip so you could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes.

“You know, two can play at that game Sweetheart.” Ben had murmured, easing his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips.

“And what game is that?” You’d said it trying to keep your composure, but the dark look in his eyes and the smell of his shampoo was everywhere. Your heart beat had given you away, thudding violently in your chest as if it wanted to break free. It was hard to ignore how much you still wanted him after all these years.

"You know exactly what game." Ben had held your gaze, raising an eyebrow as a confident smirk pulled at his lips. He could hear your heartbeat too, probably could smell how much you wanted him. “But you’re so fucking beautiful I'll let it slide.”

“Huh?” It had been the last thing you thought he was going to say. If anything you’d thought he was going to tease you.

The hand that had been previously on the wall near your head dropped onto your face to gently trace the arch of your brow and the dip of your bottom lip.

“You always have been. I thought I remembered wrong but-" His expression shifted from the seductive smirk into something softer. "Fuck I missed you." Ben had leaned his forehead against yours. "So tease me all you want. I'll wait, because you're worth every second."

Remembering what he said earlier still filled you with an incredible amount of love and made you want to kiss him all the more now. Knowing that he was willing to wait for you to be okay with whatever came next made you fall harder for him. But now you knew that you needed to focus on what you were about to do. And standing here in front of the house, listening to what was going on inside made you sober up, just a little bit…. But not completely.

"Then again I thought those overalls were pretty sexy too." Ben states, staring down at you with a wide smile as the mid-afternoon sun turned his hair into a light brown and found the flecks of gold in his eyes. He looked every bit as handsome as you were accustomed to, so much in fact that it made your heart ache.

"Sure." You roll your eyes. "I think you're the first person in history to say that." Your fingers lightly curl into the strands at the back of his head.

"Maybe. Or maybe you're just the sexiest woman in history."

"Shut up."

Ben's gaze darkens. "Make me, Sweetheart."

Every viable thought except the thought of crashing your lips to his vanishes.

I wonder if they're as soft as I remember. If he still makes that sound when I-

"You two ready?" Butcher interrupts appearing just over Ben's shoulder, but smirking when he sees how close the two of you are. "Or do you love birds need a little alone  time?"

You roll your eyes and let go of Ben's hair, as he loosens his grip on your hips. Stepping back away from him was like having a bucket of cold water drop over you, you missed him and yet he was standing a full sixteen inches away from you.

This is really not good.

"You have the worst fucking timing." Ben moves to pick up his shield, but the playful smirk he'd had a few seconds ago has been replaced with a frown.

You wondered if he was as disappointed as you were.

The wind shifts and you can smell the Temp V in Butcher's veins, hear the steady beat of his heart as it pumps blood through his body, strengthening him, making him feel indestructible. When Butcher and Hughie had injected it at the back of Butcher's car, you couldn't help but be reminded of the day you took V. You had been afraid and when they injected it, you remember the pain, the unspeakable pain that made you scream so loud that Ben heard you from the room he was being kept in, and he broke through the wall to get to you. It was how the scientists learned that Ben had super strength, because he had smashed through solid rock to make sure you were okay.

Butcher shrugs and begins to walk through the trees towards the side door of the house, leaving you and Ben alone.

"You didn't answer my question." He hefts his shield up with a smirk.

He didn't have to explain, you knew he was asking about the kiss. "I'll take a raincheck."

"Hmm." Ben takes a few steps towards the house, before he stops to look back at you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Huh?"

"In the car, even now. You're kinda quiet." He shrugs.

"I-" You were going to say that you were fine, but you knew that he would clock the lie. "We need to talk about something, but it can wait. This is important too."

Ben's frown deepens, but then he finally sighs. "Alright. Come on you’re lagging behind doll."

"Guess you changed your mind about wanting me here." You snort as you catch up to him.

Ben puts his hand on your wrist, turning you to look at him. "I always want you with me." His hand trails up your arm to finally rest under your chin. Ben smiles, leaning down towards you, but before you can arch up into him, he presses a kiss to your forehead. "I love you." He murmurs into the top of your head.

"I love you too."

And with that, you both follow Butcher into the house hosting the worst event in all of history.

I should have brought ear plugs. You cringe as you follow behind Ben and Butcher, weaving through the lower levels of the house. Maybe someone will let me borrow their blindfold. Hopefully there are nose plugs somewhere… well there have been other kinds of plugs but those are a bit big for my nose.

You walk down the staircase after Ben and Butcher who pulled ahead a few moments ago and as you do the sharp sour smell of a chemical wafts in your face, different than the other odors in the house.

What is that?

You round the corner and see Ben up ahead, shrouded in smoke, staring down an attractive muscular black man who for some reason has decided to raise his fists to challenge Ben. Your eyes trace the man's face, recognition pulling at your heart. You knew who he was. The first time you'd seen him he'd only been a boy, made eye contact with you at a funeral you couldn't help but go to, after Ben made a mistake. You'd offered the boy an encouraging smile and left the boy's family an envelope of cash in their mailbox because you couldn't think of anything else to do for them. You knew it couldn't replace who they lost, but you didn't know what else to do. Ben had been upset with himself after, he always was when he lost control. He showed up on your doorstep like he always did, drunk, high, smelling like stale perfume, and fell asleep in your bed after you reassured him the same way you always did.

Now that little boy was grown up and standing in front of you. You see recognition flash in his eyes as he sees you. Of course it does. You didn't look any different and you hadn't worn your supe suit when you went to the funeral.

"Not him." Butcher says to Ben, but Ben doesn't look away from the man.

"Ben." You whisper, reaching out to touch his arm gently.

Ben's eyes flick to yours. The look in Ben's eyes is familiar, predatory, unwilling to back down from a fight. Soldier Boy. You'd seen it countless times before, talked him out of killing people in the past. You hated how quickly you had to slip into your old job, the one that made you feel like a babysitter, but you shake it off.

"He doesn't know what he's doing. Come on. The Twins are upstairs, I can hear them arguing." It was true, you could, but you didn't want this to turn ugly so quickly. Not when the real reason why you were here were currently arguing about toilet cameras. 

His jaw tightens, eyes sliding to the man standing at the other end of the room, before he nods once and motions for you to go ahead of him.

As you continue to move through the house, you fight the shudder that threatens to travel down your spine when you think of how Ben looked moments ago. It was the first time you had seen Soldier Boy since Ben showed up again, and it was the same way you remembered it. You just hoped deep down that Ben really did want to change and that he was adopting the façade of Soldier Boy to get through what came next. You knew that you were going to have to adopt one as well.

"Here." You stop just before the two of you round the corner where the Twins were in the other room. "Let me go first. They might not try to run if I go in before you."

Ben frowns. "I don't want you to-"

"I know, but it'll be better this way."

"Fine."

You walk around the wall and towards the circular room where the Twins are fighting, ignoring the couples on the outskirts that are grinding against one another.

Like Countess, the Twins didn't look good, both were considerably older, rounder, grayer, and more wrinkly than the last time you'd seen them, but they were still the same. Still arguing and still just as annoying as they had been forty years ago.

"I never want to see you again!" Tommy spits at his sister, adjusting the golden robe slung over his shoulders that flaps around him like a cape.

"Oh sure!" Tessa sniffs while puffing on a joint. "Our Westfield mall appearance is next week and nobody is going to come see you without me!"

That must suck to have your powers depend on someone else.

"Wow, mall appearances? Aren't we all getting a bit old for that?" You flash a winning smile as you step down into the room, locking eyes with Tessa.

Both of the twins visibly pale, their hearts speeding up to work overtime, as the stench of adrenaline begins to waft through the air between you. It's almost comical how identical their reactions are to Countess' at seeing you for the first time in forty years. Then again you hoped that you looked better than they did.

Why didn't I try to find out more after Ben "died?" If our entire team had this reaction to seeing me then I would have known the truth and Ben wouldn't have been in a fucking Russian Lab all these years!

Their plan to ensure you not being in Nicaragua had paid off, because not only were you not there, you didn't want anything to do with any of them. And you wished that you had confronted them all those years ago. You knew that you'd live with that guilt for a long time, but now you allowed your anger at what they all did to Ben, overpower it.

"Y/n-" Tessa stutters.

It was weird to see her at a loss for words. You and all of Payback had listened to her nag Tommy since the moment they joined the team. Judging by what you had walked into, you figured that she hadn't changed at all.

"Hey long time no see!" Tommy fakes enthusiasm while licking his lips nervously, eyes darting to the open doors behind you. You could practically see the escape plan forming in his mind.

"You know, when I found out you guys were living in Vermont I was surprised. I would have thought that you moved down South. They’re probably more accepting of your relationship.” You make air quotes around the word relationship, before shifting your smile into an worried frown. “Oh sorry, are the two of you still pretending that you’re not fucking?”

Tessa’s gaze turns stone cold. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d check in.” You look around the room. “You guys have a nice house. Must have budgeted better than Countess did. Her tailer, now that was a shit hole. Must not have done as many mall appearances.”

Tommy’s heart skips a beat at the mention of Countess’s name. “Look y/n-“

“Please. We didn’t have anything against you. We didn’t come after you. Even after all these years we left you alone.” Fear seeps into Tessa’s voice with her plea, eyes wide with worry.

They had reason to be worried, you’d all but admitted to killing Countess.

“Oh sweetie.” You with false sweetness in your tone. “It’s cute that you think you can beg for mercy. That you're deserving of it.” The room begins to shake with the force of your anger as your eyes shift to bright purple. Cracks like thin spiderwebs stretch through the wide windows behind them and through the thick drywall as you lose control, the composure you always held on to drowning in the flood of emotion you feel when you look at the two of them. “Ben told me exactly what happened that day-“

“He lied to you!” Tommy exclaims. “He went crazy! You know how he gets, how he loses control!”

“He lost control and we had to protect ourselves y/n-“ Tessa adds, another lie.

Ben steps into the room beside you, his eyes are focused on the Twins, and if you thought they looked afraid when you showed up, they look near dead when Ben appears.

"You were saying?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Ben! Hey Buddy!." Tommy forces another smile but pales when he realizes Ben just heard him and Tessa try to lie to you. "How are you? Long time. We were just talking to y/n about-“

Ben's eyes narrow, stopping whatever Tommy was going to say about you.

"Nicaragua wasn't our fault!" Tommy says to recover. "Neither was the premiere." His eyes dart to yours, cowering under the purple light that pulses from your irises.

Wow. Just. Wow.

"We swear." Tessa adds.

"Why should we believe you?" You spit.

"Please-"

"Then whose fault was it?" Ben's frown deepens, hand tightening on the shield.

None of the other couples have stopped what they are doing, too enthralled in one another to notice what was going to unfold between the four of you.

"It was Noir!" Tommy shouts desperately, his eyes flitting from Ben to you as if trying to see which one of you will believe him. "He gave Ben to the Russians."

It's almost pathetic watching his mad scramble to protect himself. Apart of you hates that you don't feel guilty for any of this, at least with Countess at the beginning you felt some guilt for hurting her, but with them there was nothing. Not even the prick of remorse, there was only anger.

Ben chuckles under his breath. "We all know that Noir didn't even take a shit without Vought's say so."

"Not to mention his head was so far up Stan's ass it's a wonder that he could breathe." You narrow your eyes at the two of them waiting for them to make a move. They might be cowards, but if you knew the Twins well enough, you knew that they weren't above throwing a bolt of lighting in your direction. And you knew for a fact that electrocution wasn't fun.

"It's the truth!" Tessa shouts above the moans and wet squelch of the people around you. “Please y/n we have children.”

“You're really the worst liar hon. Always have been." You snap, listening to her heartbeat jolt in her chest as she attempts to save herself.

"Please talk Ben out of this, just like you did for Noir-“ Tommy's plea falls on deaf ears, but you knew what he was talking about. The day that you saved Noir's life because he started a fight with Ben over a stupid role in a movie. But this was different, no part of you wanted to save them from this, to save them from what they deserved.

“Noir will get what’s coming to him.” You don't recognize your own voice. "You brought this on yourselves."

But then something shifts in the air, call it a feeling, or an energy current, but something feels wrong.

The music coming from the radio has changed to a Russian pop song, why it's playing you have no idea, all you know is that it does something to Ben.

The sound of his shield hitting the ground rings in your ears and you turn to look at him. His entire body is tensed beneath his suit, sweat dotting along his hairline, red beginning to creep into his cheeks. His eyes are squeezed shut and he shakes his head as if he's trying to clear it.

"Ben? Are you okay?" Your hold on the room vanishes, eyes fading back to their normal color as your worry turns to Ben.

His fists are clenched tightly together as he brings them up to the sides of his head, chest beginning to glow with his new power, the one you'd never seen before, the one that Ben said practically vaporized whatever was in it's path.

Shit.

"Ben. Stay with me, listen to my voice." You touch the sides of his face, begging him to listen to your plea. As much as you wanted the Twins to pay, Ben wasn't just losing control of his powers, this was different. It was almost like he was being dragged somewhere else, somewhere you couldn't follow.

"Everything's okay. I'm here, I'm right here." You soothe, but he continues to glow brighter and brighter and you're directly in the line of fire.

Shit.

Ben's eyes flash open, no longer bright green but an orange-gold that makes fear snag in your ribs like a fishing hook. His hand makes contact with your chest shoving you to the side, out of the way of the beam, but unfortunately through the solid rock wall.

You don't really know what happens next. The world goes black for a few minutes, not like when you die, but just black as everything burns around you when Ben explodes. You're not sure how long you're under, could be minutes, could be hours, all you know is that when you wake up everything hurts.

It's how you know that you didn't officially die. Whenever you woke up after death, it was different, you felt powerful, reborn, but right now you felt like a train ran over you. A headache throbs at your temples as you begin to come to, blinking your eyes against the darkness that doesn't go away. Your ears are ringing, filled with the screams of those who survived and the smell of burned flesh and blood surrounds you like a cloud.

A mountain of rubble and roofing covers you, leaving you in the darkness to get your bearings, but nothing feels broken.

At least the brick fireplace broke my fall. You think to yourself with a groan as you begin to push off the planks of wood and pieces of the roof that cover your body, so you can sit up. As soon as you do, your head spins and you fight the unpleasant urge to throw up.

Great. Might have a concussion.

You might be as strong as Ben, but your ability to die meant that you were just a little bit less equipped to handle a hit like that.

Ben. Worry and fear war in your heart as you look around the broken room that lays in tatters around you.

The house isn’t recognizable anymore. Singed carpet floats in tufts with ash around your face like a swarm of flies while fires burn in clumps all over the ruined room. Chunks of drywall and planks of blackened wood litter the floor and the back half of the house is gone, burned to a crisp in the blast from Ben.

What the fuck did they put in his chest? Ben had tried to describe it to you, tried to explain it, but standing here in the rubble you understood just how bad it was. The ruins in Mid-town you had seen the coverage of on the news, but it was a completely different thing to experience it in person.

People are going to think that he did this on purpose. That he's a bad person, that he's some kind of terrorist. The thought is immediately followed by the fear that Vought and the government would come to take him away. Your jaw tightens. I'd like to see them try.

The bodies of Tommy and Tessa are burned beyond recognition, still holding hands, but now are just blacked lumps of flesh and bone that lay where they tried to make their final stand. But you feel no remorse.

It’s what we came here to do, to make them pay. You bite the inside of your cheek listening to the screams of those who survived. I just didn't think that so many others would get hurt.

You continue to look around the room, worry rising in your chest as you think of Ben and remember the look on his face. He had been scared of what was about to happen even if he didn’t want to admit it. He lost control. In the past when he lost control the worst thing he could do was rip someone in half or smash their face into a pulp, but now if Ben ever lost control he'd level a building.

I see a lot of yoga in his future. Or maybe anger management classes.

Although the thought makes you smile, as soon as you see Ben everything else fades from your mind. Ben is on his knees in the center of the room, head slumped forward on his chest, hands laying limply by his sides, as he takes in shaky breaths. You could hear the frantic pound of his heart, beating hard against his rib cage as if begging to be released. Seeing him like that almost sends you into overdrive. You’d never seen him look so defeated, so small, so tired, so… lost.

“Ben?” You fall to your knees next to him, reaching out to touch his face, to bring his attention to you.

His body tenses as you do so, eyes narrowing when he meets yours like he doesn’t know you. His eyes miles away.

But where?

“Hey, it’s me.” You say gently, cupping his face with your hands to rub your thumbs across his cheeks while fear grips your heart as you try to bring him back to you. “It’s me, I’m here. It’s okay.”

Ben inhales sharply as if suddenly remembering, the look in his eyes clearing for a moment, rising through the fog. "Y/n?" He whispers.

"Yeah. I'm here." You repeat, smiling at him even though the urge to cry builds in the back of your throat. It broke your heart to see him like this. You push his hair back from his face, brushing the ash from the mahogany strands.

 “Are you okay? Did I-“ Worry etches itself across his handsome face.

“I’m fine. Shhh.” You soothe, pulling him against you so your can rub his back softly and lock him in your embrace. But the truth was you were afraid. You didn’t understand what happened and couldn’t explain the look in his eyes when he went under, when he started to lose himself in his newfound powers. Ben crumbles into you, leaning his head against your shoulder as if needing it to strengthen him.

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You weren’t sure the effects the blast had on him, just that he seemed unsure as to how the hell he did it.

 Where did he go in those moments?

“The twins?” Ben mumbles.

“They’re dead.” You could hear the approaching ambulances and police cars, hear the anxious chatter of the survivors outside.

We’ve got to get out of here.

“Come on. Let’s go.” You say softly rising to your feet and helping him up. Ben stumbles a step, shaking his head like he can’t catch his bearings and the worry comes roaring back. You catch him and tilt his body so he can lean on you. “Ben are you okay?” Your fingers dance against the sides of his face trying to bring his focus back to you, because you were afraid he might lose himself to whatever the hell happened before.

“I will be in a minute.” Ben takes in a shaky breath, leaning on your shoulder. "I don't know what happened."

"It's okay." His shield rises telekinetically from the rubble and into your outstretched hand that glows a brilliant purple in the dusty light. Smoke billows up from the room around you obscuring the sunlight that filters through the ruined front of the house, but you can still see the front drive already becoming swarmed with people and news crews.

Because that's exactly what Rosemary needs to see, me and Ben on the 5'oclock news. Fuck.

"Come on." You lead him back the way you can, toting his shield in your free hand, down the stairs.

When you spot Butcher, Ben straightens finally catching his bearings and takes the shield from you. Butcher looks from Ben to you, eyebrows raised.

"Sorted?"

"Yeah." Ben frowns.

You could tell that he was still a little shaky, but you knew he wasn't going to admit that to anyone, especially not to Butcher. Your gaze falls on the man from before laying on the ground, the man that Butcher had told Ben to leave.

Why did he want Ben to spare his life if Butcher was only going to beat him down?

But just as you take a step towards the man to check him for injuries, a long shadow falls on the floor at your feet.

Your eyes jolt upwards and focus on Homelander. The smell of hairspray, hair dye, and cheap cologne waft through the air at Homelander's appearance.  He's shorter than you expected him to be, not overtly muscular, but he didn't need to be. Supes with superstrength didn't need to look like body builders, and you suspected that the only reason why Homelander even had any kind of muscle was for his image as America's Hero. Then again, you never complained about Ben's muscular physique.

I don’t think anybody should complain about that and- Nope. Nope. Not thinking about that right now.

But as you stare at him there's something wrong, something that you can't place, something that tugs at the back of your mind when you look at him, almost as if you've forgotten something important.

Seeing him in person is surreal. You'd only ever seen him on the news or on billboards or on those stupid energy drinks that were sold at the bodega on the corner where you get coffee filters sometimes, but the look in his eyes is the same. It's cold, unfeeling, and reminds you of those ridiculous shark documentaries that Rosemary is obsessed with. The only time she could watch shark week was after Lou went to bed. She said that watching it made her feel better about her job and you didn't complain.

Homelander looks around the room forcing a smile, a predatory glare in his eyes.

"William Butcher and Soldier Boy. Of course you are behind this. It really is all about me." Homelander's smile widens.

Narcissistic much? This guy's like a walking red flag.

He takes a step closer to the three of you, and Ben steps in front of you to shield you from Homelander's view. Homelander clocks the movement, but then tsks his finger at Butcher.

"William we made a deal to fight to the death, you and me." Homelander's eyes begin to glow. "You cheated, deals off."

The red flash of the laser-vision illuminates Ben's face in sharp contrast as the beam hits Butcher full in the chest propelling him back into the wall. His body falls to the ground and lies still.

Well. That's not good.

Honestly you didn't like Butcher all that much, but you couldn't help but feel a little bit bad.

You glance up from Butcher's body to gaze at Homelander again. Fighting him hadn't been on the agenda today, but it was starting to look that way. You knew what his powers were, knew that Vought probably told him his entire life that he was a god and that no one could compare to him. And you knew that the man standing next to you hadn't changed enough to walk away from the fight, no matter how bad his odds were.

And deep down you knew that you weren't going to let Ben take that beating, which of course meant that you were going to fight Homelander. Not that you were afraid of him. One look at him might have sent everyone else heading for the hills, but he didn't intimidate you.

"I watched all your movies, hundreds of times. You were the only one that was nearly as strong as me." The look on Homelander's face is one of respect almost wonder.

And you can imagine a smaller version of Homelander being fed all the same propaganda that Ben and you were fed all those years ago, imagine Homelander growing up hearing that he was stronger, greater, faster than Soldier Boy, and imagine Vogelbaum working hard to make sure to mold Homelander into the hero that America wanted. Not to mention all the shit he probably heard when he was with Stormfront. You were very happy that you didn't have to see her again, though now you had a fun story to tell Ben about one of his exes.

“Buddy you’re wearing a cape, do you think you look strong?” Ben frowns at Homelander.

“It is pretty stupid.” You agree examining Homelander’s supe suit. “Honestly I thought you had it bad with that dorky looking helmet-“ You glance at Ben out of the corner of your eye.

“Really? You’re gonna do this now?” Ben glowers turning his attention to you.

“I’m just being honest it was pretty bad and I’m glad you decided not to wear it today. But his cape is definitely worse.”

“Do you want me to bring up that ridiculous hood you had?”

“You can, but I won’t believe you, because that hood was fabulous and I looked fantastic in it.”

Homelander clears his throat to catch your attention. “Um hello?”

“Hi.” You force a smile. “Oh sorry did we interrupt your little monologue?”

Homelander's gaze turns icy as you continue. “Because we can take this from the top. What was the line again? Something about power or watching his films? I was only half listening. Did you want me to record it for you so you can post it on your socials?”

“What the f-“ Homelander begins to say, but you interrupt him.

“I mean. That is why you practiced it in the mirror for so long right? And why you did your hair and makeup?" You scrunch up your nose. "I'd skip that last mist of hairspray if I were you. You want it to look smooth, not look like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket.”

You could tell that Ben was trying to maintain his composure, but his mouth was twitching in a smile. “Oh wait does your suit have a body cam? I guess that makes things easier, because it probably doesn't have pockets. Not to mention if you dropped your phone while you were flying around-"

"Who the fuck are you?" Homelander spits interrupting you.

"No one important."

“Is he really what passes for a hero these days?” Ben cocks an eyebrow. “He’s just a cheap fucking knock off of me.”

“No.” Homelander snarls, eyes beginning to glow bright red. “I’m the upgrade.”

The laser cuts through the air in slow motion, but you’re already moving.

"Ben!" His name rips from your throat as you lunge forward and shove him as hard as you can out of the way of the beam. You feel the laser tear through your body, the force throwing you backward through one of the wood paneled walls and then the darkness swallows you whole.

If someone were to ask you what it was like to die, you wouldn’t know how to answer. To exist in those thirteen seconds sometimes feels like a dream, like you're floating, but it's always silent. And the silence scares you. How quickly it comes to drag you under and how it seems to replace everything you know or remember about the real world until you come back to life. You understood why Ben didn't like being alone, because you didn't either. It reminded you too much of those moments you were gone, wishing for it to stop. There was never a bright light, there was only the darkness and the silence that fell when your heart stopped beating.

When you take your first breath in thirteen seconds it's full of dust and ash, swirling into your mouth as you inhale sharply to jumpstart your lungs. But at the same time everything is different. The colors in the room are brighter, the sounds more acute, the smells just a fraction stronger, and you feel different. Power floods through your limbs, swirling through flesh and bone, pouring through your veins, electrifying through each nerve ending and setting you on fire, more than any other power ever has. You'd never felt power like this before. Even with Countess and the others that had killed you, no other power you'd ever gotten had felt this strong.

You stand up from the rubble you landed in, covered in a layer of dust and blood. The hole in your new outfit where the laser struck is just under your left breast, the mark left behind already a pink scar. And you knew that Ben would probably kill you for it later, for taking the laser for him, but you didn't care.

Homelander is floating in the center of the room, holding Ben by the throat, smiling cruelly at him.

"Hey asshole." You snarl, spitting out a glob of blood onto the ruined carpet. "We're not done."

Homelander turns his head towards you amused, while Ben grabs at the front of his suit, trying to get his attention, but Homelander is focused on you.

"So that's it? That's your big trick? Laser vision? Forgive me for not cowering in fear." Your hands clench into fists at your sides.

He eyes you for a moment. "You're Indigo aren't you?"

"I used to be. Now I'm just disappointed. I expected more from Vought's big hero, but now I see that you're just another asshole who thinks he's a god." Your eyes drift to Ben for a moment, worry clawing at your heart when you meet his gaze. "So drop him. Before I drop you."

"You’re very confident for someone who was dead a few seconds ago. I don't really see how that ability is going to help you-"

"Before I didn’t want to kill you."

"And you think you can?" He laughs.

"No." You smirk. "I know I can."

"Who do you think you’re talking to?"

"I’m not talking to much." Your eyes narrow. "But I'll be nice, and I'll give you a chance to leave. To tuck your tail between your fucking legs and fly away. We didn't come here for you and you and I don't have to do this."

"And if I don't leave?"

"Then I'll kill you."

"I'd like to see you try." Homelander throws Ben as hard as he can through the brick fireplace, causing rock and mortar to rain down on top of him, but Homelander's eyes don't leave yours. “Well why don’t you give me your best sho-“

He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence, your body ploughs into his tackling him through the solid outer wall and onto the back lawn.

Truthfully you hadn’t meant to go through the wall, you’d only meant to pin him to it, but flying was proving just a little more difficult than you expected. Your hand closes on Homelander’s wrist bringing him down against the ground so hard that the earth quakes, before you throw him as far away from you as you can.

His body spins awkwardly in the air, before he ploughs into one of the thick oak trees head on, at the edge of the backyard. The loud snap of the tree compensating for Homelander’s body fills the air.

He stumbles to his feet, eyes narrowed in pure hatred, lip curled back in a snarl, and his blonde hair flopping forward into his face.

“You chose wrong.” You spit, rolling your shoulders, preparing for what came next.

Homelander lets out a roar and flies towards you, arms outstretched for you, but you’re ready for him.

You catch his fist before it lands against your face and tighten your other hand around his throat. Your bodies are floating two feet off the ground, but it doesn’t faze you.

When Homelander’s gaze meets yours you see just a flicker of fear, a spark, quickly masked by his shock. He struggles to pull away to push you away with his free hand, but all you do is tighten your grip.

 "You've never felt real pain before have you?" You force your face into a sympathetic frown, before your eyes harden. "Allow me to enlighten you."  You throw him to the ground again, watching his body spin and screech against the grass and dirt.

 Given the screams and smell of blood in the air, any witnesses from the massacre inside were at the front of the house waiting for the police, leaving you and Homelander on the backside of the house alone.

Worry for Ben rose in your chest like the peak of a wave, you hadn't seen him since Homelander threw him through the fireplace, but you funnel that worry into all encompassing rage.

"They told you that you were a god right? That you were the most powerful supe that ever lived. They were wrong. There's only one supe more powerful than you, and you just fucking pissed her off." You shout beginning to float towards him.

Homelander growls rising to his feet, eyes glowing bright red as he fires a laser at you, but you’re ready.

Your own beam catches his mid air between you, the high pitched sizzle and smell of ozone floats across your face, but you don't back down. If anything, it just makes you more angry.

And then something slams into you from the side, breaking the connection between your beam and Homelander's.

"What-" You shout, looking up at the body above yours, preparing to blast them off, but you realize it's Ben. "Ben what-"

"Stay here." He growls, eyes black. Ben looks pissed, whether it’s because you pushed Ben out of the way before or if it’s because he’s annoyed that Homelander punched him you’re not sure.

"What?" You look beyond him, to see Hughie and Butcher tackle Homelander to the ground.

They're going to try to turn him human.

"I can hold him down-" You say. “Let me help.”

"No." Ben snarls as he stalks towards Homelander, his chest beginning to glow.

“Ben-“

“Stay the fuck there.” Ben shouts still looking at Homelander.

Your eyes flit to the leader of the Seven. Watching him struggle against Hughie and Butcher, who yell at one another, but you don’t hear them. You wait for the remorse to crash over you, the guilt, but it never comes.

I gave him a choice. He could have run. He didn’t. He chose this.

And just when you think it’s all over, Homelander breaks away from them, surging up into the air to freedom. You feel your feet leave the ground to follow him, someone’s hand tightens on your ankle and drags you back down to earth.

“No.” Ben’s voice is more of a growl than anything else.

He’s angry, that much you can tell from the look on his face and from the way his eyes have hardened into two solid chunks of emerald as he locks eyes with you.

But why? Angry because Homelander got away or angry because I pushed him out of the way?

“Ben I can get him. Let me go.” You kick your ankle but Ben holds on.

“No.” Ben snarls. “You’re not about to go after that sick fuck by yourself.”

“Ben-“

“No. If I have to chain you to the ground I will.” Ben pulls you down further and releases your ankle to  fasten his hand around you waist to hold you tighter against the ground. “You’re not going after him.”

“Fine.” You snap pulling yourself from his grasp, your own temper flaring.

You hated when Ben did that, when he acted like you weren’t just as capable as him of doing this. It reminded you of your childhood, when you were treated like you were made of glass, a pretty doll that was made to be looked at but never touched.

And you knew it came from Ben’s want to protect you, knew that it came from his fear of losing you, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

You didn’t pout when Ben went out to face someone, didn’t try to act like he couldn’t do it.

“I know that maybe I’m a little behind but… WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?” Hughie shouts. “You have laser vision and you can fly and you can move things with your mind!?” He looks frantically from you to Ben.

You don’t answer, your eyes are still on Ben who looks ready to throw Butcher’s car into space. You could practically see the waves of anger rolling off of him like a comic strip.

“You didn’t before, did you?” Butcher’s eyes trace your body as things begin to click into place. “You didn’t before he killed you.”

“Hold on.” Hughie holds up his hand. “Are you telling me that you die and you come back to life WITH THE POWERS OF THE SUPE THAT KILLED YOU?”

“It wasn’t in the files.” Butcher’s eyes still haven’t left you. “Vought didn’t know did they?”

You don’t like the way he’s looking at you, don’t like the glimmer in his eyes as if you’d just solved all his problems. It was the exact look that was in the eyes of the scientists the day you took the serum for the first time. To them that’s all Ben and you were, lab rats, people who were stupid enough to listen to the wild ideas of glory and a better world they spouted.

“We should go.” You murmur, listening to the sounds of the ambulances and the police coming up the driveway. “It’s about to be a circus here and I'd rather not make my big social media debut covered in rubble and blood."

Ben’s mouth is clamped together, green eyes blazing at your mention of blood. You knew that he was focused on the bloody hole left behind in the corset where Homelander's laser had ripped through your body.

Another scar, another fun story to tell my daughter when I see her… great.

*****************************************

The car ride to Legend’s is dead silent. Ben doesn’t look at you, doesn’t try to hold your hand, and doesn’t try to touch you in any way. Instead his hands are curled into fists, sitting on the tops of his thighs while his anger heats the inside of the car like a furnace. You knew it was only a matter until he exploded, but now you had bigger things on your mind.

You had just exposed yourself to Homelander, showed your face to him, not to mention you admitted to being Indigo. It would be easy for him to find your real name in the Vought archives find your file and the same name that linked you to Rosemary. She’d gone back to her maiden name when her husband died, which meant the two of you had the same last name and it wouldn’t be difficult for Homelander to find her.

Which meant you needed to get to her first.

You had tried to text her, tried to tell her to have a bag ready and that you were going to pick her up, but she was refusing to do so and you didn’t exactly want to text “Homelander is a fucking psychopath and he’s going to come after you” to her phone. Plus you couldn’t exactly call her, not in this cramped car.

Legend is waiting on the front porch of his country home when Butcher pulls his car into the end of the long driveway, somewhere that you’d been to many times in the past. He's smoking a joint and scrolling through his phone, wearing the same outfit you had seen him in a few days ago.

"Kitten!" He smiles wide at you when he sees you and pulls you into a hug. “I was worried when I heard about that mess with Countess. You never called.” Legend frowns at you, blowing out a lungful of smoke. "Guess you guys had a talk."

"Something like that." You frown. "It got complicated really fast."

“I told you so.” His eyes shift to where Ben is glowering a foot behind you. "I see he found you. I didn't tell him-"

"I know you didn't. Thank you for keeping your promise." You smile tightly, squeezing Legend's hand. He really was a good friend. One of the oldest ones you had besides Ben.

"Figured if I did, you'd keep him from ripping my head off."

“Haven’t decided if I’m not going to yet.” Ben snarls and Legend's eyes widen in fear.

But you knew that he was just redirecting his anger. Ben was angry because you put yourself in harms way to protect him and the sooner you had it out, the sooner you could go get Rosemary and Lou.

"Ben we both know that you're not mad at Legend, you're mad at me. So you might as well spit it out, because we've got bigger problems than your hissy fit-" You begin to say. You were sick of him pouting, refusing to look at you, refusing to touch you.

"What the FUCK were you thinking?!" Ben roars towering over you, eyes flashing. "Getting between me and him like that!"

Legend backs away, afraid that he's going to get caught in the cross-fire.

"Calm down." You sigh, gritting your teeth together. You were trying your best not to lose it either, because the last thing this situation needed was you losing control.

"DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN." Ben's hands are clenched tightly into fists, his suit beginning to glow bright.

"You're going to have to calm down or you're going to blast me to kingdom come!" You snap back.

Ben grits his teeth together and closes his eyes tightly while his chest begins to fade back to normal and when it does, he opens his eyes to glare at you. "Why did you do that? I had him handled-"

"You didn't."

"Yes I did. You didn't give me a chance to-"

"No what I did was I didn't give that psychopath a chance to punch a hole through your chest with his fucking laser vision." You poke him in the chest. "Of the two of us, I have a greater chance of surviving that!”

By then Butcher and Hughie had moved to give the two of you a wide berth, standing where Legend was watching the two of you looking bored. They were probably hoping that you didn’t cut one of them in half with your new powers.

"Are they always like this?" You hear Butcher ask Legend from where they stand a safe distance away.

"Pretty much." Legend answers, blowing out a puff of the fowl smelling smoke.

"Do you ever get used to it?" Hughie mutters.

"Nope."

“Is there an off button?” Butcher sighs.

“Nope.” Legend puffs his joint.

"You don't know that!" Ben spits back at you. "I could have!"

"I wasn't willing to take that chance damnit!"

How can I make him understand this? How can he finally understand what it would be like for me to lose him all over again, just when I got him back?

"Do you really think that I'm willing to play Russian Roulette with your life?" Ben snarls, grabbing you by the shoulders so tightly you're sure they'll be bruises but all you can do is look into his quickly darkening eyes. "Do you have any idea what it did to me to see you die AGAIN? To see him TOUCH YOU? To know that he HURT you?"

"We've already had this conversation Ben-"

"And we're going to fucking have it again!" His grip tightens. "I told you to stay behind me!"

The last time he'd touched you like this was the night of the premiere, when he told you that he didn't care about you, that he could never love you. The memory of that night lodges itself in the back of your throat, but you keep it down.

"And I told you that I wasn't going to do that!"

"Damn it y/n you can't-"

You pull yourself away from him. "No Ben. You can't tell me what to do. You don't get to control me. People have tried to control me all my damn life and when I first came with you I thought I was giving that up. But no, I just moved on and Vought took over. When I decided to live my own life, to stop being a supe, I was free! Finally! After forty years of bullshit I was finally free!"

Ben’s jaw is so tightly locked together you think you hear the grinding of his teeth. “So what are you saying? Are you saying that when you’re with me you feel trapped? Like I’m holding you fucking hostage?!”

“No.” You exhale heavily. "I understand that you love me. I understand that you want to protect me. But you need to understand that I love you too. That just as you're willing to lay down your life for me, I am willing to lay down my life for you. And if you want this to work between us, you need to understand that you don't control me. You're not my dad or my owner, you're the man I love. And until you realize that I am just as capable of protecting you as you are protecting me-"

"I know that." Ben seethes.

"What?"

"Do you really think that I don't see how strong you are?” You watch something flash in his eyes that isn't anger, the vulnerable look is back for a fleeting moment and it rocks you to your core. "I don’t want to control you! I’m not trying to. Have you thought that maybe after all this time I just wanted you to need me like I need you?"

His confession makes your heart stop. Does he really think that I don’t need him? That after all these years there’s no one else that I’ve needed more in my entire life?

“Ben.” You sigh while stretching out your hand to lay against his arm, but he flinches away. “ I do need you. You have no idea how much I need you, no idea what it did to me when I lost you even after everything that happened. I just don’t want you to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

“I don’t treat you like you’re-“ He begins to say.

“Yes. You do. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect me, but you have to understand that I want to protect you too.”

He huffs out a breath, shoulders tensed, arms crossed over his muscular chest. “I do understand that. I just hate it when you do that, that you push me out of the way. I hate when you get hurt.”

“And I hate when you get hurt." You bite the inside of your cheek. "You say that you were angry that Homelander hurt me, but did you stop to consider what it did to me to see him try to hurt you? Do you know what it did to me to see him touch you?”

Ben stands there for a minute glaring down at you, before his gaze begins to soften. “No.” He grumbles.

“Exactly.”

You both stand there for a minute eyeing one another, daring the other to break the silence.

This is ridiculous.

Finally Ben, sighs out a breath and jerks you forward against his chest. The hug would be bone crushing for anyone else, but not to you.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He mutters into the top of your head, while his body curves around yours.

“I love you too asshole.” You huff, hugging him back just as tight.

“See they always work it out.” Legend shrugs at Butcher. “Takes them a while to get there. They made my job so much harder in the 70’s. Though I will say it’s a relief that they’re finally admitting they love each other. Way too much sexual tension before, gave me anxiety.”

Ben pulls back to look at your face with another loud sigh. He still looks a little angry, but not angry enough to start shouting again. His thumb strokes against your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You nod once leaning into his touch. “Are you?” You brush back some of his dark hair out of his face, looking for bruises but you don’t see any.

“Yeah.” He nods.

“If the two of you are done, we have bigger things to worry about-“ Butcher begins to say.

“We are and we do.” You interrupt looking away from Ben to stare at Butcher. “I need to borrow your car.”

“Why?”

“I need to go back to the city.”

“What?” Ben sputters releasing you from his grasp.

“And I think it would be better if I went alone-“ You continue slowly.

Honestly you did think that it would be better if you went alone, but you didn’t want to. You wanted Ben to come with you, the problem was Rosemary.

“Like hell I’m letting you go alone with that son of a  bitch flying around!” Ben shouts, temper flaring again.

“Which is why I have to go.” You try to say it diplomatically, try to have him understand without having to explain it. But there’s really no way around it, around any of this.

“No.”

“Ben please c-"

“Don’t tell me to calm down again! I’m not being crazy. You’re not going after him!” His eyes blaze a brilliant green, as he crosses his hands over his chest.

“Ben-“

“Why can’t you listen to me for once?”

“BEN!” You shout, grabbing his face and holding his cheeks between your palms to catch his attention.

“What?” Ben’s eyes lock with yours.

“I’m not going to the city to go after Homelander.”

He pauses confused. “Then why are you-“

And you just can’t take it anymore. You can’t hold it in any longer, can’t think of a way to tell him without just ripping the bandaid off. Your eyes meet his, apologetic, determined, and just a little bit fearful.

“I’m going back into the city to get our daughter.”

A/N: I know I know, it's been a while and honestly I didn't mean to get hit by writer's block this bad 😂😭

But it kinda works out, because what better way to celebrate Father's Day than to tell Soldier Boy that he's a dad?

As always thank you so much for reading! There are big things coming! And thank so much for the love and support! If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know :)

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[scarletwinterxx]

the grumpy cat's secret soft side - chwe hansol imagine

hiiii ~ tbh i liveeee for the black cat turn into golden retriever type of guy🥺😭😅 this one is soooo cute, i hope you like it🤍 i’m trying to make up for being gone in the past weeks hence why the back to back posts.

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’re hanging out with your friends at a café, and, as usual, Vernon is sitting at a corner table, a frown fixed on his face. His arms are crossed, his eyes barely leaving the book he's reading, and his presence is just… intense. You know the drill—no one dares to approach him unless absolutely necessary.

Your friends chatter away, but their eyes keep flicking toward Vernon, trying to gauge the seriousness of his aura. You can practically hear them whispering:

"Does he even smile? He looks like he's plotting something dark."

"I bet he has some secret double life where he's a villain or something."

You roll your eyes, amused by the misconception. Sure, Vernon has this reputation of being the "grumpy cat". The guy who scowls at anyone who dares to speak to him but you know the real Vernon. The one who’s soft, playful, and okay, maybe a little too clingy when you're alone.

You sip your coffee, trying not to laugh at the thought of what they would say if they knew. They think Vernon is all sharp edges and cool indifference, but when it’s just the two of you? He’s a total golden retriever.

Later, the café empties out, and it’s just you and Vernon. You lean against the table, watching him flick through his book, clearly trying to seem like he's deep in thought.

"You know, you should really smile once in a while. People are starting to think you're some kind of cold-hearted villain."

He grunts in response, his eyes not leaving the pages "I don’t need to impress anyone. Why pretend to be something I’m not?"

You can feel the smile tugging at your lips. If only they knew how dramatically different he was when no one else was around. Just the other night, he’d insisted on cooking you dinner and then gotten mad at the TV when you laughed at a cooking show he didn’t even like. 

And the way his voice softens when he talks to you? Don’t even get you started.

"Mhm, sure. Just make sure no one sees you with your 'scary' persona, or they'll think you’re a supervillain." you tease him, a playful smile on your face

Vernon finally looks up at you, raising an eyebrow.

"You do realize you're the only one who gets to see me not acting like a 'villain,' right?"

You grin, taking a casual sip from your drink.

"Yeah, lucky me."

Fast forward to a few days later. You're out with Vernon and a few friends, walking through the park when you trip over a crack in the pavement. It's not that big of a fall, but you scrape your knee, and it stings just a little.

No one notices at first—except Vernon. His eyes snap to you, and you can see the panic flicker across his face. 

Before you can even fully recover from the stumble, he’s already by your side, crouching down with an expression that can only be described as dramatic concern.

"Oh my god, are you okay?! Did you hurt yourself?"

You blink, slightly surprised at how intense he’s reacting. He’s usually so calm in public, but now his eyes are wide, his hand hovering near your knee like he’s afraid even the slightest touch might cause more harm.

"It’s just a scrape, Vernon. I’m fine." you stutter, still surprised by his actions

He shakes his head vigorously, ignoring your reassurances, his face completely serious.

"No. You’re not. You're bleeding, and... you’re my responsibility!"

You blink at him wide eyed, "It’s really just a small scratch. It's not like—"

"Small?!" He looks at the tiniest red mark like it’s an open wound that could be fatal. His voice grows louder. "You’re going to need a bandage! I’ll—I'll carry you home!"

You can’t help but laugh at how over the top he’s being. The guy who looks like he’s plotting world domination in front of others is now losing it over a scraped knee. But he doesn’t seem to find it funny at all.

"Do not laugh! You’re injured, and this is serious business." he scolds you, already helping you up still chuckling, as he holds out his arms like he’s ready to scoop you up at any moment.

"I don’t need you to carry me, Vernon. I can walk." you assure him

"I insist." 

He’s so dramatic about it that it almost seems like he’s going to faint from the sheer concern he’s radiating.

"Is he seriously offering to carry you?" Dino asks, watching the whole scene

“What the hell is happening?" Seungkwan mumbles

You hear your friends muttering from the sidelines, their voices full of surprise, and you can’t help but smirk. This is the first time they’ve seen Vernon act this way, and they’re all shook by it.

"Vernon, seriously. I’m fine!"

But he’s already kneeling in front of you, looking up at you with wide, concerned eyes, ready to scoop you up into his arms like you're the most fragile thing in the world.

"Nope. I’m not risking it. Let’s go home. You need rest, and I need to make sure you’re not going to pass out or something."

You can’t hold back your laughter anymore."You're impossible."

"I’m just trying to keep you safe."

You finally let him win, letting him gently lift you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world, completely ignoring the curious stares from everyone else around. And despite how embarrassing this all is, you can’t deny it. You love how much Vernon cares about you. The "grumpy cat" persona is a total act.

You lean your head on his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace.

"You know, I’ve never seen this side of you before."

"Good. Keep it that way. I’m only like this for you, got it?" voice full of seriousness

"Got it."

And in that moment, you realize, as much as Vernon tries to hide it from the world, he’s completely smitten with you—and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

re: sympathetic ganondorf vs evil for evil’s sake ganondorf, i think this is misrepresenting and underselling what’s actually offputting to people

“i’m evil because i’m evil” or “i’m evil because demise is evil” and the associated lust for power simply for its own sake has always been lame and low effort. there’s a reason it’s “shit tier” on the classic “villain motive tiers” thing

“i’m evil but there’s enough nuance to make the player at least somewhat sympathetic to me even if i’m still ultimately a bad guy” is a good thing that people like? i’ve never personally interacted with a zelda player who thinks windwaker ganondorf ruined the character or anything - he’s generally regarded as the gold standard of villain writing both in and out of zelda. this is roughly “high tier” on the tier chart

“actually TWIST i’m not evil at all, it’s the good guys who were evil all along, i’ve done nothing wrong and i’m completely justified in my righteous quest against the status quo, you’re the real secret true villain for being complicit in preserving it” is technically regarded as “elder god tier” on the motive tier chart but i would personally label it as “oscar bait tier”. these things *can* be compelling in conversation with the existing landscape, but often it comes across as a deliberate effort to subvert the audience’s expectations for the sake of being unpredictable (or worse, for the sake of proving you’re the smartest one in the room). in separate works where this conversation/critique is the entire point (eg. Watchmen or The Boys), that’s not necessarily a bad thing, and the audience sets their expectations accordingly. in an established, long-running franchise, however, this almost always reads as dripping with contempt for the audience, like walking into a room and going “you morons like this shit? let me, a person much smarter than you, explain what it’s Actually about, because you’re an idiot if you’ve been a fan of this series before now”

on top of that, in the context of a series like zelda, this type of story feels myopic and disrespectful to the future of the series. “welp i burned down the 20+ years of lore behind this character so i could do a deconstruction, good luck using them in any capacity in the future, sounds like a you problem”

all this is to say, i think it’s a bit disingenuous/strawman-y to suggest that people put off by this want ganondorf to have 0 depth at all. there’s a lot of room for different kinds of depth, it’s just that the trend of the last decade has been for “depth” to mean “condescending deconstruction”

Hey!

Thanks for taking the time to write this ask, I think it warrants an interesting conversation. To me, there's like, a lot of things about what you're saying, and tbh I do see where you're coming from --in part.

First thing first... No yeah unfortunately some people Are hostile to even WW Ganondorf. It's been a rising trend in the fandom since TotK was released --people being very against the concept of any additional complexity to the character, either not getting it or considering anything he says pure manipulation that doesn't even warrant a conversation, literally making fun of people who were intrigued by this and wanting more out of this particular thread. This position not only absolutely exists within the fandom --less so on tumblr, I'll agree there-- but it's not even hard to stumble upon as a pretty regular opinion that gets tossed around. I had some interesting asks thrown my way, let's say. The idea that Ganondorf is a remotely interesting character that deserves more thought than what he gets is very much Extremely not the norm, and the very fact that you, as a fan, likes him as a guy is perceived as weird and missing the point by a lot of people. Like a lot a lot of people.

So I'll just... I guess I haven't clarified my position in a while, so I will reclarify my position on our favorite evil dude: I do like him perfectly fine as a villain, I do not want him to be "redeemed" by the narrative, I think he works fantastically as an ongoing threat, I think they could make him even scarier and more offputting and that would be super fun and thrilling... and I also think he already is complex. Like, inherently. Everything Nintendo has been putting into him since his first appearance is complicated --even their attempts at flattening him back in TotK do not fully work because they can't scrub him of the extremely loaded ideas they injected into him from the get-go. Nobody forced Nintendo to do a Mega Orientalism when inventing him, nobody made them write the NPCs to have this super weird antagonistic relationship to the gerudos in OoT, nobody made them have all this lore of the one man born every hundred years, raised by twin witches --and then nobody made them press on that tension point in Wind Waker explicitely, and then, in a more subtle fashion, in TP too. Nobody forced their hand when it came to having the strange "round ear" situation, suggesting (confirmed even, in additional canon) gerudos are born unblessed. The fact of the matter is: everything to make the relationship between Hyrule and the gerudos complicated has been there since 1998. There's no need for a Switcharoo to prove that anyone is smarter than the audience: everything messy has always been baked within the worldbuilding itself. It's in the cartridges already!!

Perspective on it is what could change, though --because, except in Wind Waker, we never get even a hint of a sense that we should think, as an audience, that Hyrule's super weird relationship to the gerudos is maybe questionable. Worth thinking about at least. Which, given the optics, is wild to me that to bring this particular can of worms up is still very largely considered crazy talk within the fandom (that, or the Sheikah situation across the series, also insane in many ways). And yes, it would perhaps lead to themes that are a bit heavier than what Zelda has been overtly dealing with (though, again, Majora's Mask exists --and I do find a lot of unpacked ideas in the Wild Era, like the very unquestionned gerudo bridal pipeline, very uhhh unfortunate already if I'm being honest --even moreso because it is unquestioned). But Zelda, when well handled narratively, can do wonderful things with evocative subtext, open doors never fully crossed, a lynchian pressure on what should feel offputting. We don't even need a sad monologue about it. It doesn't even need to be handled explicitely. But I think the pressure point is just better when understood and incorporated in some form, instead of being denied so hard the world itself start to feel incomplete and unlived.

I do want to say... I get what you mean with the whole "oscar bait" thing. There has been, historically and in recent years, a tendency to be driven by an external, almost panicked sense of morality rather than by the internal drive of a story, its internal thematic logic. I also do think it can feel very corporate, very "Disney looking back at its own movies and scrubbing off everything Buzzfeed deemed problematic in 2014 while making everything glossy and lifeless and awful" and it's not that great!!! and tbh I can't say I would trust Nintendo to handle any appreciation for the fact that the story of an eternal golden kingdom cheering on beating the evil outsiders who want to corrupt everything good and pure and blonde about that perfect inherently good place, is like, extremely not neutral. It absolutely is a delicate thread to weave, and I agree that putting a definitive end to Hyrule is probably not the smartest IP move to do. But, Hyrule doesn't have to be condemned as Bad, it can be merely complicated. And ongoing, regardless. To keep on with the Disney parallel: The Lion King would feel weird if we started to peel off the internal politics of the hyenas, it's just not the right place for it, when everything about this story revolves around the Righteousness of the Divine Right to Rule. But if the Lion King was an ongoing series that had been looping on itself for a while... wouldn't it make sense to figure out how to achieve majesty by studying other angles too, eventually? Is it that strange to suggest the exercise is like, possible? That it can be handled with artistry and soul?

I feel like... Yes, to acknowledge Ganondorf's humanity --not even to coddle it, just to acknowledge it-- implies taking in everything that makes him who he is, and that might rattle some foundational ideas about why this ancestral fight is even happening in the first place. I also do not think it means that he must be Good now. He can still punch a child and cackle maniacally, he can still be unredeemable --he can still destroy himself and others out of the most unconstructive spite ever, and we can still see the purpose in defeating him while basking in the "yea....." left in his wake (Wind Waker did that!!! Wind Waker did that and then we had more Zelda games!! crazy how that happened). This is hardly undoable. It does take some narrative skill, and some commitment to taking a bit of a risk, but Ganondorf is genuinely unmanageable as a character if you insist on your refusal to acknowledge his foundations --and I think it's partially why TotK's story is such a mess. He sells a TON, but you can't have him breathe slightly too loud without risking the entire world falling apart. They did try in TotK, so very hard, and to me they still failed--as insane as he behaves, Hyrule still doesn't come out of this looking good or particularly justified, because the very central core of Ganondorf's character is to be subjugated, and then rebelling in a destructive and brutally selfish, uncompromising manner that ends up robbing him of humanity --and the discomfort of that premise will therefore always haunt the conversation. Nintendo dug themselves into that mess. I feel like a lot of the Ganondorf fans I know merely... point at that. At the mess. And I feel like the longer the games avoid this mess, the more coats of spinach green they slather ontop of his skin, and the more nonsensical characterization they pile up, and the more Ganondorf will become a parody of who he once was, and what made him compelling to begin with.

And to top it all off, as if he wasn't contentious and complicated enough to handle already, they leaned into the internet turning him into a sex symbol for some fucking reason??? Yeah I genuinely have no idea how Nintendo will manage this dude moving forward, because to me, he is, at best, an endless source of (very lucrative) headaches, and at worst a ticking time bomb. I'm not sure how long they can get away with that TotKification strategy, is what I mean.

(Also: I tried to not overdwell on all the incredibly complicated conversation re: race and orientalism, but it's borderline impossible to have this conversation without acknowledging that I have never seen a major pop culture villain receive more pushback against "woobification" than him, and I don't think it's a complete coincidence let's say :) )

[softantlers]

Are there any head canons you wanna write about that no one has requested yet?

yeah, actually! thanks for asking.

i'm of so many minds of lottie's death at the hands of callie, and i just have to put the whole scene aside because i found it quite underwhelming & not at all up to scuff with what lottie's character arc deserved, BUT--

i want to talk about callie as the platonic idea of the wilderness & the lottie, nat, shauna of it all.

okay, so when i think about the wilderness, i've always said i think about it as this sort of metaphysical reflection of the girls themselves. they give it form; they shape it. if you've read the earthseed series, it's kinda like that. you put into religion exactly what you need from it. you meld it.

so in that way "it is us," i take that statement at face value. "it" is this collective vitality and survivalism of the girls ("it" can also take many shapes, re: i've written about it as self-harm/abuse too). and lottie finds it admirable, finds it beautiful. she finds the yellowjackets beautiful.

my thought with "it" is that lottie is trying to turn their experience of the wilderness into something--she's trying to manifest the carnal drive that led them to survive out there into physical form. the problem is that "it" is cumulative, right? no one is truly "it" on their own; they are all "it" together. and individually, they're insufficient.

when i think about lottie's obsession with wilderness baby, i think of it in terms of community. everything is shared among them now. they are a unit. they share their clothes, their resources--when the going gets tough, they share and consume each other's flesh. in that sense, lottie naturally views shauna's baby as theirs. "our baby," meaning the baby that belongs to all the yellowjackets.

in that sense, callie is "ours" too--i think lottie views her as the culmination of their patronage to "it"--basically the terrible thrilling things that they did out there. the terrible thrilling things that they ascended to, that none of them could have known they were capable of.

how this gets back to lottie & nat is interesting. lottie has been trying since her time in the wilderness to give "it" form, right? she tried to be queen herself, a personification of it, and she found her own self lacking. she wasn't right; it hurt, but she understood it. she had to step down. when she saw that natalie had survived the hunt and all that she had done to help them survive the winter, she crowned her--trying to channel "it" through natalie.

this brings me to "its favorite" because natalie was. she was lottie's favorite. she was every girl's except shauna's favorite. (and fuck, maybe she was even shauna's favorite-- her favorite plaything at least.) even when shauna ascended, natalie was the leader. to the very top of the mountain, she was the people's queen--her ascent completely overshadowing shauna's at the end of the season. favorite's where the heart is, and it's warm and inviting, and it feels like home, but lottie has a mission she has to follow through.

on the other hand, shauna is the closest to "it"--she represents the most intense parts of the wilderness--surviving loss, acts of profound violence & cruelty, all (well some) in service of survival, sure, but horrible. but the thing about "closest" is that it's not quite it, right? shauna's not quite there. she, like natalie, like lottie, is insufficient. they aren't "it" in its perfect form--what lottie is trying to create.

tbh i am still not clear on the ways that callie embodies "it" so perfectly to lottie, but i suppose we'll learn more if we get a season 4. again, i don't particularly like the way lottie died. i guess you could say she died in service to "it" in the sense that she represented "it/callie's" first kill, but aghh?? in any case, lottie does see a perfect "it" in callie, where she didn't see it in shauna. i mean, she's quick to tell callie that shauna's jealous. she didn't really have much of a problem hunting shauna until callie sidetracked her by her "power."

interesting stuff. and of course, it's just my perspective. but i feel like i'm starting to see a throughline between all of the failed queens and how we got here??

[st-kitten]

brat party pt.2

pt.3

synopsis: if sasuke thought that was the last he'd see of you, he was dead wrong. he couldn't figure you out. nor could he stay away from you.

warnings: weed, and my voice tbh ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ )

the college library had become your sanctuary. for the immaculate collection of reference books, for the ample desk space you used to scatter your laptop, ipad, books, water bottle, and more papers. you frequented the library.

sasuke, to his own surprise, had to borrow a few books on game theory, given his background in finance. he moved with a silent intensity, his very presence commanding respect from the other library-goers. people just knew not to get in his way.

you spotted him from a distance and you swore you'd seen him somewhere. there's no way you'd forget a face as charismatic as his. all you remembered was that you were in the bathroom with someone's dick in your mouth.

sasuke closed the book, tucking it beneath his arm as he was about to head to the librarian's desk.

taking a deep breath, you approached him and asked him, "forgive me if i'm wrong, and shoot me in the head if i definitely am but... did i... by chance..." you squinted your eyes and sighed "suck you off in the bathroom at the frat party?"

sasuke's eyebrows shot up in surprise at your blunt question, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed her words. for a moment, he simply stared at your, his silence speaking volumes about his thoughts. then, without warning, a low chuckle rumbled in his chest, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. it was a dark, wicked laugh, full of unspoken implications.

"oh, you definitely sucked me off," he confirmed, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

you slumped against the book shelf. you hoped to god you hadn't embarrassed yourself. "was it... at least... satisfactory?"

he took a step closer, invading your personal space until you were nearly touching. "satisfactory?" he repeated, his tone low and husky. he smirked, and leaned forward a little "let's say... i wouldn't be forgetting it so easily."

he reached out, tracing a finger along your jawline, his touch electrifying despite its gentleness. "but don't think this means anything beyond that, understand?"

you nodded. "yeah... i know..."

sasuke's finger slid down your neck, coming to rest on your collarbone. he applied gentle pressure, guiding you to lean into his touch, his thumb brushing against your pulse point.

"good," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. 

"because i don't do attachments, y/n. i don't get involved. and i certainly don't fall for anyone." his words were a stark reminder of the cold, hard truth of his existence. but even as he spoke them, sasuke couldn't help but notice the way your skin tingled under his touch, the subtle flush that spread across your cheeks.

"it was just a hookup, nothing more," he continued, his voice firm. "don't read too much into it."

"that was it though right? i just gave you a blowjob? no sex right?" i asked for confirmation.

a flicker of something—amusement, perhaps, or a hint of dark satisfaction—crossed sasuke's features at your inquiry. he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing your ear as he replied in a low, conspiratorial tone.

"no sex, but not for lack of trying on my part," he whispered, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "you were too drunk and stoned to consent properly. wouldn't have wanted to take advantage of you in that state."

"fair enough. cool... see you around, sasuke," your offered him a small smile, thankfully remembering his name from that hard-to-hear-over-the-music round of introductions at the party.

sasuke nodded curtly in response, his gaze lingering on you for a brief moment before he turned to leave.

as the days passed, sasuke couldn't help but notice you around campus. you didn't actively seek him out, nor did you avoid him—just a steady, neutral presence that he couldn't quite place. it was the perfect purgatory for what had happened, neither resolved nor completely dismissed.

he saw you with sakura, ino, tenten, temari, and hinata from time to time, but always observed from a distance how you seemed to prefer solitude, especially during lunch. while others gathered in groups, you were often tucked away under a tree or sitting alone in the cafeteria, lost in a book or deep in thought.

one night, sasuke and you walked into each other at the local convenience store outside campus. both of you had missed the canteen dinner; you because you'd been studying all night at the library and lost track of time, and him because he'd just returned from a late night workout at the gym he went to.

he grabbed a pack of onigiri and some instant miso soup, while you opted for steamed and grilled chicken with rice and a side of kimchi. the convenience store’s window-facing table had stools lined up neatly on one side, offering a view of the dimly lit street outside.

you both sat there, side by side, the quiet sound of chewing and the occasional clink of chopsticks against plastic containers filling the space between you.

sasuke stole a few glances your way, his eyes catching on the loose curls framing your face and the smudge of red pepper on your lower lip. he resisted the urge to comment, instead focusing back on his onigiri, though his thoughts lingered on the fleeting details he couldn’t seem to ignore; how your lips had swollen due to the spice, turning hot pink.

on the way back to campus, just before you both parted ways, him heading back to his house outside campus, you to your dorm, sasuke abruptly pulled you under an archway. in the quiet dark, with no one around, the risk felt minimal. pressing you against the cold brick wall, his hands settled firmly on your waist. he didn’t even bother justifying it to himself—he didn’t need to. a fleeting, meaningless makeout, he reasoned, was harmless.

his lips crashed against yours, hard and demanding, seeking to claim every inch of your mouth. fuck, he could taste the hot, spicy pepper on your lips. sasuke's tongue delved deep, exploring the warmth of your mouth with a hunger that bordered on desperation. he swallowed your gasps, drinking in the sound of your breath mingling with his own. his hands roamed her body, tracing the curves of your hips, the dip of your waist, the swell of your breasts.

he'd done this so many times, used so many girls on campus. this was just like that. right?

just physical. nothing else. he told himself as he made out with you ferociously, his hands slipping beneath your shirt to caress the warm skin of your abdomen.

the sound of the patrol guards snapped you out of your trance. sasuke pulled away slightly, licking at the strands of saliva that stretched as your mouths parted. he didn't say anything and turned around to exit the campus, leaving you heaving against the brick wall.

just like that, sasuke walked around campus like he hadn't shoved his tongue in your throat last night. he was a lone wolf, but occasionally hung out with naruto and shikamaru.

during the annual model un debate marathon, all the academically gifted students prepared rigorously under the guidance of their mentors and a few seniors. you got roped into it thanks to temari's insistence. as the first lady of the event, she claimed to have a 'gut feeling' about your knack for diplomacy. to prepare you, she assigned a task: interview the 'leaders' of various clubs and gather insights, for god knows what. probably just practice interviews to see if you could ask the right questions.

ipad in hand, you set off to complete the task. first on your list was sakura, who answered every question with the precision and authority of a seasoned leader. after her, you visited a few other club heads, jotting down their insights and anecdotes.

then, as you wandered further, you spotted naruto lounging about with sasuke and shikamaru. steeling yourself, you approached the blond man, ready for whatever unpredictable energy he would bring to the conversation.

sasuke listened intently as you interviewed naruto, his expression impassive. he noted the ease with which the blond spoke, the genuine enthusiasm that radiated from him—a stark contrast to his own reserved nature.

as the interview wrapped up, his gaze shifted toward you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he observed you. composed and confident. absolutely unbothered.

when you glanced in his direction, your eyes met briefly, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. then, without a word, sasuke turned away, resuming his study of the surrounding area, his thoughts still wandering back to your furtive encounter under the archway.

naruto leaned in, his grin as wide as ever. "you preparing for the mock un thing?" he asked casually.

"yeah," you replied, keeping it short.

"hmm," naruto mused, inching closer, his face way too close for comfort. "you know... i've always wanted to see you in a heated argument," he added with a playful smirk.

sasuke, standing nearby, didn’t react outwardly, but the way his jaw tightened betrayed a flicker of irritation at naruto’s proximity to you.

you gave naruto a sly smile. "good to know i have fans," you quipped, leaning back slightly to regain your space.

shikamaru, who had been half-listening, snorted at your response, his shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

on the day of the debate, the hall buzzed with energy—spectators filled the seats, camera crews adjusted their angles, spokespeople hovered with clipboards, and faculty members mingled near the stage. naruto, as the principal’s son, occupied a seat in the exclusive VIP booth. alongside him sat sasuke, there by virtue of his position as the son of the guest of honour...the revered royal: uchiha fugaku, who exuded an air of stern authority, while itachi, sasuke’s older brother, carried his usual composed demeanour. sasuke, however, felt the familiar weight of his father’s gaze, a subtle pressure that always tightened his chest. he hated whenever fugaku was around, the man’s very presence a reminder of expectations sasuke wasn’t sure he wanted to fulfil.

you stood with temari and her brother gaara, the primary leaders of konoha's debate team. temari, always poised and confident, held the title of first lady, and you were second chair. your presence was calm, but commanding, as you stood tall in your outfit. you wore a gorgeous white satin shirt, the fabric hanging loosely over your frame, the black lacy camisole underneath peeking out just enough to catch sasuke's black hawk-eye vision. the subtle detail didn’t escape his attention. you paired it with black flared trousers, adding an air of elegance, and finished the look with classic black louboutins, the heels clicking softly with every movement. the combination of elegance and understated power gave you an aura of tranquility, making you seem unbothered by the chaos around you.

as the debate progressed, sasuke found himself increasingly engaged, his strategic mind whirring as he considered various scenarios and counterarguments. he watched the speakers carefully, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he analyzed each point, mentally calculating how he would dismantle their arguments if he were in their position. despite the outward calm, there was a fire inside him, a desire to outmaneuver and outthink everyone around him.

"and what about the two other countries claiming ownership over that island? you do realize that removing the political warfare won’t just make them agree it should be its own state, right?" the opposing member made his point.

temari wrote it down, and you took over, stepping up to speak. in the entire hall, when everyone was rushing to make their points harshly, to intimidate, you were the only one who spoke calmly, almost gently.

"indeed, it’s like the olympics of territorial disputes, isn’t it?"

you continued, voice steady, with just the right amount of lightness.

"we’ll set up diplomatic obstacle courses – navigating through bureaucratic red tape, hurdling over historical grievances, and of course, the ultimate challenge: finding common ground in international law. and to keep things interesting, we’ll have a diplomatic decathlon with events like synchronized treaty drafting and synchronized eye-rolling at stalemate situations."

you paused, letting the laughter ripple through the room.

"maybe, in the end, amidst the friendly competition, they’ll realize that cooperation isn’t just a buzzword – it’s the ultimate medal-worthy move in the game of global politics. and, hey... think of the tourism revenue."

the room filled with laughter. the opposing team was slowly losing their patience.

the debate raged on, tempers flaring, but you tried to stay calm. in the end, the debate tipped in konoha's favour. the opposing university lost face entirely when their speaker, assuming the mics were turned off, got impatient and insulted you, whispering to his teammate:

"please, big tits and a pretty face don't make a good diplomat"

people gasped, his team tried to get him to shut up. you shrugged. "maybe the d in diplomat stands for D cups," you murmured.

sasuke held back a choking cough.

at the end, your team took pictures with the principal and the guest of honour.

as fugaku shook hands with you, patting your shoulder and offering his congratulations, sasuke stood off to the side, his eyes narrowing slightly.

seeing his father interact with you, so effortlessly cordial, did something to sasuke. a mix of frustration, irritation, and... something else. he couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but the sight of his father, the legendary uchiha royalty, showing such warmth to you, when he rarely offered it to sasuke, was enough to gnaw at him.

sasuke didn’t like feeling this way. but he couldn’t tear his gaze away as fugaku moved on to the next person, still smiling, still the perfect picture of political diplomacy. meanwhile, sasuke just stood there, feeling... something he wasn’t ready to admit.

naruto and his dad, minato, the principal, also congratulated you. naruto casually slung his arm around your shoulder, talking to his dad about you with that easy smile of his. sasuke watched from the corner of his eye, his jaw tightening slightly as he tried to maintain his composure.

sasuke stood there, forcing his focus elsewhere, but the sight of you and naruto laughing, of minato joining in, lingered in his mind, eating away at him more than he wanted to admit.

afterwards, as people started to disperse, naruto invited you to have lunch with his dad, minato, and sasuke’s dad and brother. by extension, that meant you’d be having lunch with sasuke as well.

the idea didn’t sit well with sasuke. he wasn’t keen on having lunch with his father in public.

minato and fugaku treated everyone to a nice restaurant, and you found yourselves in a private booth. you sat by the window, enjoying the view. naruto, ever the energetic one, leapt into the seat beside you, practically throwing himself onto the cushions. sasuke, however, was stuck sitting across from you, next to his brother itachi. the whole arrangement made him uneasy, his discomfort only growing as he sat beside his family, with you just across the table.

sasuke's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together as naruto continued to rest a casual hand on your thigh beneath the table. the sensation of his fingers creeping ever closer to your inner thigh didn't go unnoticed.

naruto, unaware of the storm he was causing, casually commented, "i think you might have a candidate for your diplomat panel, mr fugaku," glancing over at the elder uchiha, who hummed in approval.

"an internship is always a possibility," fugaku responded, his voice smooth and detached as if everything were completely normal.

you, on the other hand, seemed lost in your own world, barely touching your food, the silence around you broken only by the quiet hum of polite conversation. sasuke's eyes flickered to your face, to your lack of appetite.

"i tried to get my youngest in, but seems that he has no knack for subtlety. itachi is the current leader on my panel. perhaps she can learn a thing or two," fugaku said, the slight jab at sasuke going unnoticed by most at the table but not by him. fugaku's words lingered in the air, his casual dismissal of sasuke barely scraping the surface of what seemed like an ongoing, deeper rift between father and son.

sasuke was used to his father's indifference, the weight of expectation always heavier than his ability to meet it. but there was a flicker—just the briefest flash—of sadness that passed over his face.

noticing the change in his demeanour, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of concern. beneath the table, your heel lightly tapped his leg, the small touch a quiet question in a sea of unspoken tension.

'you okay?' your eyes asked.

sasuke’s eyes briefly met yours, the usual guarded look softening just enough for you to catch the underlying frustration, but his expression remained unreadable as ever. he didn’t speak, but the small, almost imperceptible nod he gave you was enough to tell you that the question, for now, had been answered.

sasuke noticed the way you had barely touched your food, your discomfort apparent as the conversation danced around you. naruto’s flirtatious gestures and the discussion about your potential role with fugaku’s panel seemed to be weighing on you, and he could see it in the way your fork hovered over your plate, your mind far away from the meal before you.

without making a scene, sasuke quietly leaned in, his movements subtle and deliberate. he began taking small pieces of food from your plate, slipping them onto his own as though it was part of the natural rhythm of the meal. each bite he took, he made sure it looked like you were eating, his actions measured so as not to draw attention.

sasuke’s phone buzzed softly, and he glanced down. your message was simple, but it carried the weight of a memory only the two of you shared. he smirked ever so slightly, the corners of his lips twitching as he read your text.

unknown: you still got that suspicious weed from the party?

he knew exactly what that meant — that one joint, the one you had shared when everything felt different, when he had indulged, and especially after you'd sucked him off in the bathroom at the frat house. how could he forget that.

sasuke typed a deliberate response, just to be sure, and your phone buzzed.

sasuke: who dis

cocky bastard. you smiled to yourself before typing.

unknown: testicle left

sasuke snorted an unexpected laugh and actually saved your number as such. so did you.

testicle right: anyway, yes, i still got it

testicle left: annnnnd, do i still have the privileges?

testicle right: maybe

[sorry, this is just too funny for me ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽]

————————

at 10 pm, you arrived at sasuke's house, and it immediately struck you how grand it was— a literal mansion. the kind of place you only saw in movies, with a towering façade and expansive grounds. you couldn't help but assume he lived with his family, servants, and all the other luxuries that came with this kind of wealth. still, you hadn't expected just how lavish it would feel up close.

as sasuke had instructed, you entered through the back door, which was conveniently left open for you. the moment you stepped inside, a black doberman pounced at you. you yelped softly, instinctively taking a step back as the dog barked aggressively, its dark eyes gleaming with energy.

just as the dog lunged, sasuke appeared from the darkness, moving with inhuman speed. in one fluid motion, he grabbed the dog's collar, halting its attack with a firm, commanding grip.

"spike, relax," he said calmly, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in the quiet of the mansion.

the doberman whimpered, its earlier aggression fading into submission. its tail wagged slightly, and it looked up at sasuke with adoring eyes, as if it had been momentarily caught up in the excitement.

you looked at the dog, then at sasuke. "lovely bodyguard you have there."

"he's loyal, which is more than i can say for most people," sasuke remarked dryly, his eyes never leaving your face. there was a subtle bitterness in his tone, like a quiet echo of the isolation he'd built around himself.

without waiting for a response, he turned and led the way deeper into the mansion. the sound of his footsteps echoed off the marble floors, creating an almost eerie silence in the vastness of the house. you wondered how many rooms there'd be.

"do you have a dungeon?"

sasuke threw a glance at you from the corner of his eye, the tiniest of smirks etched on his face.

he quietly led you up to his bedroom. the space mirrored his personality—dark and minimalistic. grey walls, a few electric guitars hanging on one side, their sleek bodies almost blending into the shadows. a bookshelf lined one wall, filled with editions you could only assume ran through his family, the kind of books that carried a weight of legacy.

his bed was a king-sized affair, draped with oxford blue silk sheets that caught the dim light, a soft and thick comforter neatly folded at the foot, and black pillows arranged with meticulous care. everything about the room exuded a sense of controlled luxury, but there was also a coldness, a detachment that seemed to seep into every corner.

the room had a balcony that overlooked the night sky, the stars barely visible through the slight haze of city lights, casting a dim glow over everything. it was the kind of space where everything felt distant—like it was meant to keep people at arm's length.

without a word, he strode over to the liquor cabinet, retrieving two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. his movements were measured, effortless—like a ritual. he poured a generous amount into each glass, the amber liquid catching the low light in a way that felt almost intentional.

you took the glass gently, the weight of it grounding you. you both stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air brushing against your skin, contrasting with the warmth of the whiskey in your hand. clinking your glasses together in a silent toast, you took a sip, immediately feeling the burn of the alcohol hit your throat.

"jesus..." you coughed softly, surprised by its potency.

"it's strong, isn't it?" he observed, taking a sip himself.

leaning against the railing, sasuke’s gaze turned to the star-filled sky, his mind adrift in a sea of thoughts. he couldn’t help but wonder about the complexity of his attraction with you. you were a temptation—one that both unsettled and intrigued him.

"does... your dad always do that?"

for a moment, sasuke was silent, his gaze distant as if lost in the shadows of memories long past.

"my father's opinions don't matter," he finally muttered, his voice coated with disdain. he took another swig of whiskey, the sharp burn cutting through him in a way that felt almost cathartic.

you studied his face intently, watching the way his features tightened, the subtle signs of the pain he still carried.

"sorry he does that to you..." you said quietly, your voice soft, genuine.

"it's not your concern," sasuke muttered, his voice rough, like it was struggling to break free from the weight of everything he kept buried inside. the words were cold, but there was a slight crack in them.

your gaze fell to the guitars in the background. you recognised one of the guitars. holding back a gasp, you looked at sasuke and asked as humanly calmly as you could, "why do you have the akatsuki bassist's guitar on your wall?"

sasuke visibly tensed, his body stiffening as though you’d struck a nerve. for a split second, the room seemed to hold its breath. he hadn’t told anyone about it, not a single soul. not even the people closest to him knew. only his family did. akatsuki was a disbanded band from five years ago, a group of masked teenage musicians whose music had been too controversial, too ahead of its time. the band had collapsed under the weight of public backlash. sasuke had been their bassist.

he hadn’t expected you to recognise it.

sasuke's thumb absently traced the edge of his glass, his gaze drifting away from yours as he muttered, "it's either obsession or severe autism for you to recognise that shit." he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly.

your jaw fell, morphing into a wide knowing grin. "oh... my god. are—were you... the bassist?"

sasuke almost groaned at your question, the embarrassment creeping up on him. he shifted uncomfortably before finally nodding.

you clamped your mouth shut, hiding the huge smile spreading across your face.

sasuke shot you a glare, leaning forward slightly, whiskey on his breath as he threatened you to keep it to yourself. "don't fucking say a word." he muttered, his voice low and intense.

you nodded, and shook your head at the same time.

"you still good?"

a wry smile tugged at the corners of sasuke's mouth at your question.

"good enough," sasuke replied, his tone nonchalant, but a hint of pride crept into his voice. he could see your doe eyes looking up at him expectantly.

sighing, he sauntered towards the guitars, plucking out a sleek black bass guitar with four thick strings, a small red cloud etched on the curve of the front. plugging it into the amplifier, he tuned it to perfection, strumming a few notes with a casual ease.

he sank onto the carpeted floor, resting against the bed that was bolted to the floor, the sound of the guitar filling the space between you two. you sat next to him, whiskey glasses by your feet, the tension from earlier fading into the background.

sasuke plucked a few bass notes, the sound of his old songs drifting into the air. each note was sharp, clean, and deliberate, as though the music had never really left him.

you could hear history in the strings, the quiet intensity of the sound filling the air, as sasuke's fingers moved fluidly over the bass, a ghost of the band that had once existed.

[im using . by girl in red for reasons that shall hopefully make sense (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) and idk if u can hear my voice over my guitar and the instrumental - bear in mind i don't have studio equipment nor a bass guitar, so it's just an electric]

halfway, you recognised the song. without thinking, you reclined back against his bed, your voice rising in accompaniment, a feminine contrast to the grating bass that sasuke had mastered.

sasuke's fingers faltered for a moment, the unexpected blend of your voice catching him off guard. his gaze flickered to you, but he didn’t say anything.

but he could hear the rest of the band echo through his memories, itachi's keyboard, obito's drums. he had been used to the raw, almost abrasive sound of hidan’s vocals, the chaos they brought to every performance. but with you, it felt… different. the rough edge had softened, replaced by a smoothness that made the song feel more personal, more intimate. a slight unease stirred within him. he hadn’t realised how much he’d missed this kind of harmony until now.

he hadn’t expected this—hadn’t even known you could sing, let alone with such haunting beauty. as the final notes faded away, a heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the steady hum of the amp. sasuke's chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, his mind struggling to process what had just happened.

"you've got... a voice," he muttered, the words rough, as if admitting it was a struggle. he took a sip of his neglected whiskey.

"sounds exactly as it was... man... that was a phase," you said, looking up at the ceiling.

sasuke smiled unbeknownst to him, "yeah? you a fan?"

you nodded. "i know all 36 songs by heart."

sasuke snorted a laugh. it felt so silly now, but back then, when he was a teenager, had he heard that somebody memorised the songs he wrote and performed with his brother, he'd have been on cloud nine.

"may i?" you asked, looking at his acoustic guitar, your voice soft but laced with a hint of curiosity, as if expecting to be refused.

for a moment, sasuke simply stared at you, his expression unreadable. then, to his own surprise, he nodded once, curtly.

"fine," he said, his voice a little gruff. he stood up, retrieving a slender acoustic guitar from its stand. with a swift motion, he handed it to you, your fingers touching briefly.

you hesitated for a second, the weight of the guitar settling in your hands.

"heh. i have the same one," you said, holding his black granada six-string guitar, your fingers tracing its familiar curves.

"you do?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity as he sat back down, sipping his whiskey, his dark eyes fixed on you.

you strummed gently, pausing to tune the guitar by ear, the way he had earlier. the chords you played were unfamiliar to him.

then, softly, you sang as you strummed—a short verse, simple yet poignant, a melody that seemed to resonate with the quiet ache of sasuke's life, a toast to his inner turmoil.

the gentle, soothing quality of your falsetto in the chorus washed over sasuke like a calming wave. his gaze softened, his sharp features losing their edge.

perhaps you were a little like him. broken, hurt, but trying.

"you write those yourself?" there was a note of awe in his question, a hint of reverence for the artistic talent he'd just witnessed.

you chuckled. "oh, no, that's taylor swift."

a small, surprised laugh escaped sasuke's lips at your casual admission. taylor swift? he wouldn't have pegged you as a fan of the pop star, especially given the solemn, introspective nature of the song you'd just sung.

"not my usual cup of tea, but..." sasuke trailed off, his gaze flickering between you and the guitar, as if reassessing something he thought he already knew about you.

you placed his guitar gently beside you, its neck resting against sasuke's bed. taking a sip of the whiskey, its warmth spread through your chest, grounding you.

as promised, sasuke lit the joint—the same unique blend you'd shared in the bathroom during your first day at the frat house party. after taking a slow drag, he handed it to you.

leaning back against the bed, arms crossed, sasuke's dark eyes followed your every movement as you took a hit.

you exhaled slowly, turning to him. "are you okay?" you asked, your voice calm but probing.

"i'm fine," he replied curtly, his tone brushing the question aside like an unwanted fly.

you scoffed lightly, taking another short drag before passing the joint back to him. "you're a bad liar," you said, your voice holding a faint challenge.

sasuke's eyes narrowed at your words, annoyance flashing briefly across his face. he accepted the joint, taking a long, deliberate pull before responding.

"you don't know anything about me," he muttered, his voice low and guarded, a clear warning not to press further.

you looked away, your gaze falling on the balcony and the glowing moon hanging in the distance. "right..." you murmured softly, a faint edge of resignation in your tone. it was a quiet reminder to yourself that no matter how much you pried, he was always going to keep you at arm’s length.

his dog, spike, entered through the dog door into the room, his paws padding softly on the carpet. without hesitation, the doberman approached sasuke, licking at his arm and neck, before turning his sharp gaze toward you. a low growl rumbled from his throat.

"easy, boy," sasuke murmured, placing a calming hand on spike's broad head. his voice was firm yet soothing, instantly easing the dog's tension.

you smiled at the intimidating dog, holding out your hand with quiet confidence. spike sniffed cautiously, his ears twitching as he seemed to assess you. sensing the calm energy you radiated, he let out a soft huff before pressing his snout into your palm.

settling near you, the dog stretched out, his eyes growing heavy as you continued to pet his head gently, your touch light and rhythmic.

sasuke's gaze drifted from your hand resting on spike's head to your face. the serene expression you wore, paired with the calming energy you seemed to exude, caught him off guard.

he watched, almost envious, as spike—a creature so fiercely loyal and protective—melted under your touch. a part of him wished he could possess that kind of purity, that unspoken ability to soothe and calm just by being present. perhaps that was why his turbulent personality gravitated so strongly toward your softer, steadier one.

the heady mix of the weed and whiskey coursing through his system dulled his inhibitions. before he could think twice, sasuke leaned in, his lips brushing your shoulder in a fleeting, absent-minded kiss. the tip of his cold nose nuzzled against your skin as he kept pressing soft kisses.

as sasuke pulled back, a faint flush of embarrassment crept up his cheeks, stark against his pale complexion. his mind raced, trying to process the impulsive gesture. his dark eyes met yours, a storm of emotions swirling within them—shame, confusion.

"forgive yourself, sasuke," you whispered, your voice tender yet firm.

sasuke's initial reaction was a suspecting frown, a glare he was used to deploying

"i... can't", he managed to whisper, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.

you turned to sasuke, your movements deliberate and tender. your hands reached for his face, your fingers brushing against the sharp edges of his jawline, before sliding into the soft strands of his black hair. his breath hitched at the unexpected intimacy, his body tensing as though preparing to push you away.

without hesitation, you gently pulled him toward you, wrapping your arms around his rigid frame. his head rested against your shoulder. you held your breath, aware that there was a 50% chance he’d shove you away. but as seconds passed, his resistance faltered, and his body sagged slightly against yours.

he didn’t reciprocate the hug—his arms stayed limp at his sides—but he didn’t pull away either. his breathing grew uneven, and you felt the faint tremor in his shoulders.

you never pulled away from hugs first; god knows how much people might have needed one. so you stayed, as long as he let you.

minutes later, he pulled away, avoiding your gaze, downing his whiskey with one gulp.

"i'll lock the back door on my way out..." you whispered, getting ready to leave his house.

he just nodded.

he listened to the sound of her footsteps fading into the night. he didn't know what the fuck the night had turned out to be. but one thing was certain, this wouldn't be the last time he'd be seeing you.

[fancifulplaguerat]

was re-reading your additions to that post about having played classic hd/daniil is bad discourse and since you mentioned it i’d like to ask what are your main issues with his p2 characterization? as someone who also hates it (so far, i am giving him the benefit of the doubt since his own route is not out yet. even as an npc he was so much better in p1 though.)

Tbh it’s mostly my subjective taste; I don’t think Daniil’s character is inherently “bad” in P2, but I am inevitably going to contrast it with PHD Daniil and. Well. Essentially I think Daniil is a caricature of himself in P2 and is less thematically interesting because of it.

Sorry this will be long bc I have many Thoughts and Opinions.

I immediately found P2 Daniil unnecessarily abrasive. Like “I was blessed with a naturally high intelligence,” Patho Classic Daniil would not fucking say that. Or at the very least that would be an inside thought. Plus how he discusses Rubin with Artemy: “Oh, I doubt it. I’m much more cautious than you. And attentive. And heedful. For example, I’ve managed to establish a friendly relationship with Rubin, your so-called friend.” This is just dripping with condescension in the very structure of it. He undermines Artemy’s ability and doubles-down on his presumed superiority, which he punctuates with further assertions that he knows better. Maybe it’s crazed behavior to consider the syntax, but seriously, ‘And attentive. And heedful.’ are more forceful because of the full-stops, like he either A) purposefully spoke in this staccato for emphasis, or B) couldn’t help himself from adding even more ways that his authority outweighs Artemy’s. He also rubs unnecessary salt in the wound by exemplifying his supposed authority via a connection with an individual Artemy has history with; like the ‘so-called friend’ is so dastardly for no reason.

And he KEEPS GOING.

“Allow me to sum up. Rubin told me he’s the only decent doctor in town, but you’re a competent surgeon! I need you alive, healthy, and quiet. Close at hand. Spare me any wild improvisations—I’ll be the one handling the situation. Medicum morbo adhibere. […] [Rubin’s] gone to carry out my orders! From now on, your Rubin does what I tell him to do. He entered my service of his own accord. I suggest that you do the same. It will help everyone.”

This makes me want to choke him the fuck out, he sounds so ungodly arrogant. ‘I need you quiet’? He is treating Artemy like a child at best, a tool at worst, and him suggesting that Artemy fall in line like Rubin grosses me tf out.

I know I’m preaching to the choir, but for the sake of tediously stating my opinion, compare this with some rough equivalents in HD.

First:

Bachelor: Master Rubin, who doesn’t trust me and is concealing something important, has an unusual source of infected tissue. […] You’re closer to him than I am, though; perhaps he’d be willing to share with you the information that he is concealing from me. > Rubin hates me. Bachelor: He absolutely doesn’t. Last time we talked, I described your feats in detail and proved that his suspicions were completely baseless. You’re his hero now, and he’s deeply ashamed of his tantrum.”

Daniil is being a little devious here, ostensibly trying to use Artemy/Rubin’s friendship (?) to get information he wants that Rubin won’t give him. But he acknowledges that Artemy is closer to Rubin and went to bat for him. I find this interesting because it raises questions about his character—what exactly was Daniil’s motivation to clear Artemy’s name? Was it just to this end, or did he personally care because his central character trait is justice? We also know that he hates lies above all else, and it was a lie (injustice) that Artemy committed patricide, so this action could reinforce the centrality of justice/truth to his character. What does the adjacent P2 exchange suggest? That Daniil has a superiority complex? That he is collaborative only in the sense that everyone he deems ‘useful’ should defer to his authority unquestioningly? What theme does it suggest/support in his character? Obviously, not every word a character utters has to have thematic significance, but I’m throwing it out there anyway.

To compare the second part:

“I heard a rumour of a man who is well-equipped to both dissect the dead and gut the living. […] I’m sure that whenever they find him, he will prove to be very helpful indeed. This is, after all, his line of occupation. He’s bound to do a better job than I ever could. As for me, I’ve had enough of that already.”

PHD Daniil recognizes Artemy’s utility like P2 Daniil, but doesn’t treat him like a tool. He outright acknowledges a deficiency in his own ability, though the final sentence expresses frustration which could arguably read as Daniil thinking he is above “that.” I still think (again. this is my arbitrary opinion not like. objective textual analysis) this reads more like snark than smug superiority. And to your NPC point, I think Daniil is at his lowest asshole capacity in the Haruspex Route, which is why the “Daniil is an ass in P2 because it’s Artemy’s perspective” falls flat to me. Not that that isn’t true—it very well could be, given Daniil’s characterization in The Marble Nest.

Also, I feel P2 Daniil aligns more with the Cold Selfish Academic archetype than PHD Daniil, who is pretty willing to work with others. He clearly cares about people, and his connections with them at that. Trust appears critical to him, and honestly he seems to trust people pretty quickly. He mentions “mutual trust” to Victor and Rubin, and then there’s his reaction to Aglaya’s betrayal; it still keeps me pacing my study that IN HIS OWN ROUTE Daniil’s central deciding factor for the Polyhedron’s fate is that Aglaya betrayed him and he is hurt/angry. He is lashing out because she hurt him—that’s the crux of Artemy’s argument in the Cathedral. Aglaya being a liar is also part of the rationale Daniil uses on Artemy in the Haruspex Route in the Polyhedron’s favor. So, his value of trust suggests that he cares about his relationships with others, and expects them to care back. He also generally establishes reciprocity, rather than trying to be the authority, as P2 Daniil.

Quick tangent: I think this apparent importance of trust connects to his central tenet of truth/justice. When an Herb Bride asks him “What makes you think [lies] have to be dark?” he can reply, “Because they replace the true state of affairs with a false one to profit from someone else’s suffering.” He sees lies as inherently malicious bc they involve a person’s suffering, *unjust* suffering at that.

PHD Daniil also often assumes responsibility for others’ safety (trigger-happy episodes aside, but I think those can be relegated to the Daniil Dankovsky Justice Complex), even those who aren’t his nearest&dearest like his Thanatica colleagues. There are two instances I can recall off the cuff where PHD Daniil changes his refusal to do something he considers “beneath” him—acting as Rubin’s ‘errand-boy’ and talking to Griff in the Haruspex Route—explicity because he is told his not doing those actions will result in someone’s harm/death. Likewise his replies to “Take care of [the Utopians], Bachelor. Let them live” are either: “I’ll do everything that’s in my power,” or “Huh, and let the others die, I suppose?” The second particularly suggests an intention to protect everyone possible. I’m not claiming P2 Daniil is a complete misanthrope, but his superior attitude departs from PHD Daniil in a way I personally dislike.

Part of the issue here is simply the difference between how PHD and P2 handle their themes. On that note. If Daniil is able to manipulate time, his character loses what I consider most poignant about him. For instance, his dialogues like “There is always hope,” “Hope lives forever,” are more impactful to me in his PHD characterization because it’s so entwined with PHD’s themes about futility/how endeavoring for the impossible is part of being human. Particularly since Daniil’s PHD victory functionally comes down to the achievement of people who are basically demigods (which nobody talks about but. that’s a whole separate post I might make one day). If Daniil has successfully broken the laws of nature, it just takes some of the resonant aspects out of his character for me.

[maksplaygroundsims2]

Am I a sellout? Maybe lol.

Welp, I bought the Sims 25th birthday bundle thing on Steam, it was 60something. It included Sims 2 and all the packs&stuff packs, and it included the original Sims game and all it's packs, as well as some sims 4 kits(which I don't care about and didn't want in the first place, lol) Now, before I get polverised by the entire sims 2 community here... yes I've been reading what people have to say, I've been reading about the concerns, I've been reading about the warnings...yes I'm aware of both games being available for free on the internet. I was one of the people who switched over to Linux to be able to play TS2 and I don't plan on going back at all to playing it on my windows desktop... HOWEVER, I do want to be able to play it on my laptop. I recently got a new laptop on Black Friday in 2024. I tried Osab's installer, and all the fixings for it, it still did not work and there was tons of pink flashing as soon as I put my cc and mods in.

So, I pondered putting Fedora on my laptop too but, I have to use this laptop for work, and tbh I rather not have to switch to windows and linux to work and then play.. it's just... annoying tbh. I still have windows on my desktop and it's been almost a month since I've logged onto that partition...I'm considering making the full switch on this computer to just linux and use my laptop for windows stuff. But, in all honesty...my biggest reason for buying it is because, as I've mentioned before in a previous post back in December... I have a huge medical surgery coming up, a kidney and pancreas transplant. It's going to require me to be 7hrs away from my home for three or four months... I thought about getting my boyfriend to bring my whole ass desktop down for me when I get settled into where I'm staying... but IFFFFF I can play sims on my laptop without issue then that would be perfect. But again, I don't want to put linux on it so when I saw that EA was planning on doing the re-release I was skeptical, sure but, I thought it would be a good solution to my worries about not being able to play Sims when I was away from home....but, now that it's available, of course I'll throw my money at EA. It's not like I haven't before when the sims 2 first came out, it's not like I didn't hand them my dubloons when Sims 3 was being released, and then bought some sims 4 packs.. even though I barely axtually played the game, but mostly just built in it for my YT channel.

I know most people won't givve a shit about who buys the re-release but I've just seen so many people hating on it and I feel a little wierd because I genuinely don't like EA as a company, at all but here I am giving them money that could be used elsewhere in my life. But alas, here I am.. about to dive into the sims 1 like it's 2002, to hear that sweet sweet sound of "EA Games, Challenge Everything" and let my mind melt into its childlike form.

[tellmewhatyouc]

Congratulations on the milestone! Especially with the amount you've written, could I get your thoughts on Ace x Law they're my favorite rare pair and I love the way you write them

thank you!!!

and acelaw 💞 i haven't engaged with them much in A While because my brain has been elsewhere, i feel like i could get back there eventually but i haven't watched OP in ages so i'd probably have to do some re-watching to get familiar with them again. either way they will always be a fave, i'll always fondly remember our little community back in 2020-21 and appreciate the people who have dropped by my fics since then

honestly the initial appeal to me was just that they're my 2 favorite characters and i wanted to write them interacting, and that's how my longer fic soft focus started out. and then i got Invested. i think it's the grumpy x sunshine vibe, which i know also exists in law/luffy but i'm not personally that into shipping w/ luffy so it worked out nicely.

i think they also both have complicated feelings about life and death, law what with the Trauma and the tattoos and ace feeling like he shouldn't have been born in the first place. i'm pretty sure that's a thing forgive me if i'm just remembering wrong again my OP brain hasn't been active since like 2021 kasjdfkdj

and idk! i just had a lot of fun writing ace being a goof, law tolerating him because he is so lovable. i think they can bring out the best in each other and look out for each other and that's all i ever want in a ship tbh. i really enjoyed writing luffy into the dynamic too, deeply important to ace and becoming important to law as a result.

with all that said i dug around in The Archives because i knew i had some unposted stuff, and here's a cut(??) snippet from soft focus i wrote in late 2020. this scene turns into Drama because i had a lot of ideas about law that i was gonna get into but idk if they'll actually make an appearance in the rewrite so. here's some softness:

Ace had made himself comfortable on Law’s couch. He’d kicked his shoes off to pull his legs up, his knees pointed towards Law. Part of him was wishing they’d get to have a Teen Movie Moment and snuggle up together during the movie, but it seemed unlikely. Law kept almost a full cushion’s distance between them, so even “accidentally” brushing their legs together would be an impossible task.

By the end of the next movie, Ace was fading. He knew for sure this wasn’t a sleep attack sort of tired; it was too gradual. He just needed to go to bed.

“Where do you want to sleep?” Law asked as the credits started rolling onscreen.

“Huh?” Ace asked. It was as if Law was reading his mind-- or, perhaps just his body language. “I didn’t know I had options.”

“Of course you have options,” Law said. “If you’re looking for something more comfortable than a futon, I just changed the sheets on my bed earlier today.”

Ace’s heart skipped a beat. Law, who hadn’t even let Ace hug him, was suggesting they share a bed? Was he dreaming already?

“I’ll be spending most of the night in my office down the hall,” Law added, “I probably won’t be sleeping until early in the afternoon. So as long as you don’t sleep past noon, I don’t mind.”

Ace’s posture relaxed somewhat. Right. Law had mentioned he wouldn’t be sleeping that night. “Oh, uh… sure. As long as it’s cool with you.”

Law nodded as he stood from the couch. “It’s the first door on the left,” he said. “I just have to relocate Cora before you go in, but the bathroom is right across the hall. I’m pretty sure there’s an unopened toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.”

Ace cracked a smile as he stood up beside Law. “Thanks,” he said. “Do you… have anything I could wear?” He was still wearing jeans, and while he usually slept in nothing but boxers, that… wasn’t something he wanted to do in Law’s bed. Not under his current circumstances, anyway.

Law looked Ace up and down. “I’m sure I could find something,” he said. “I’ll leave it out for you.”

“Thank you,” Ace said with a nod. The idea of sleeping in Law’s bed, wearing Law’s clothes, had him a little weak in the knees as he walked over to the bathroom. Sure, it wasn’t anything romantic-- he wanted to keep his mind away from those thoughts for the moment. But Law genuinely cared, his hospitality showed it, and Ace couldn’t help but feel a little giddy about that.

He found the toothbrush without any trouble, since Law’s bathroom was well-organized. He avoided snooping around too much, turning a blind eye to the row of orange pill bottles on one of the highest shelves, and brushed his teeth before he got out of there.

He found Law across the hall in his bedroom, placing a folded set of clothes down on the bed. There wasn’t much to the room— just a queen-sized bed pushed into a corner, a nightstand, and a dresser. No pictures, no decorations, nothing. Just like the rest of his home.

“These should fit,” Law said, gesturing towards the clothes. “I’ll be in my office down the hall if you need anything. Just knock on the door before you come in.”

Ace nodded. “Sure, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem. Better to sleep here than go home in the dark.” Law took a quick glance around the room, and his gaze lingered on Ace for a moment too long before he nodded. “Well… goodnight.”

“Night,” Ace said, offering Law a smile. Once Law left the room, he stripped down to his boxers and left his clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser. The clothes Law supplied fit fairly well; the pajama pants were a tad too long, but the cotton t-shirt fit just right. He plugged his phone into the outlet by the bed before he climbed into bed, already half asleep. 

He drifted off within minutes.

[i-sveikata]

hii!

I’ve been a semi-silent reader since graveyards was first published but I cannot be silent any longer! I absolutely love this fic and I don’t have enough words to describe what a pleasure it has been to read it. According to ao3 I’ve visited it 59 times already (I’m on my 4th official re-read and frequently go back to chapters when I randomly think back on a specific scene).

I’m currently on the scene where Vegas briefly wonders what it would be like to raise children with Pete and I have to ask, are we going to get Venice at any point? And what would Vegas be like as a father? I think Pete would be a good parent because of how practical he is, that and his patience with Macau and how he makes sure to consider his feelings when communicating with him. Vegas on the other hand, I think he could be a good parent especially if he was doing it with Pete but maybe his perception of himself being evil and destructive would get in the way of that?

p.s. after reading the first chapter of graveyards I went back and read all your other fics and all I have to say is chef’s kiss. The barbarian sterek and the one where Stiles thrifts Dereks clothes are two of my favourites.

Hey anon!! Thanks for coming to say hello!! Wow omg that’s so many times to visit a fic I hope you enjoy the fourth reread!!

I’ve actually answered this one a few times before but this fic is based off the show- I’ve never read the novel. So while I do know of Venice vaguely from what other people have mentioned in the fandom he’s not going to appear in this fic.

Tbh I think they would both make very good parents- they both already have clear examples of what kind of upbringing did not work for them so it would be them both trying to walk down a new path together. That wouldn’t make it impossible for them to recreate trauma in new ways of course but I do think they’d both be very good at pulling each other up on things if they thought one of them went too far or if they disagreed with how the parenting was being done. I think the environment would work against them a little- being in a mafia family and constantly in danger would make things feel a little less secure and they’d both be insanely protective of their kid but I do see them making the necessary sacrifices to enable their kid to live a moderately stress free life- I.e stepping away from high stakes/ chaotic situations or not pissing off people enough that they’re making lots of enemies to deal with etc.

I think if things ever got too bad they’d take off together for a fresh start somewhere else in Thailand and find new jobs that wouldn’t bring as much attention on them just to keep their kid safe. Their kid would easily come first before the family empire no question. But meanwhile you could 100% guarantee they’d be teaching their kid how to fight and use weapons and protect themselves as they grown up. Like as soon as their kid was old enough theyd be a little bit more dangerous (would be hard to avoid with those two as parents)

I think Pete is helping a lot in reshaping Vegas’ understanding of himself so by the time they did get around to talking about/deciding if they wanted kids Vegas would feel much more settled in himself and have a stronger foundation for his self esteem than he does currently. And they’ll both be better equipped by then to reassure one another’s doubts/uncertainties so while I do see them occasionally butting heads/ struggling, they’re the types who find their footing very quickly. And when they’re together the other person wouldn’t let them lose their footing for very long if that makes sense. How they started as a couple has forced them to figure out how to communicate properly and establish good boundaries and mutual respect so those would be some of the biggest factors working in their favour for when/ if they did have a kid.

Omg thank you so much for saying so that’s really sweet! Im so happy to hear that you liked them. Lmao yes that was my biggest fandom for years I’ve written so much sterek (and still have many open wips for them haha) thank you 💛

[nellygwyn]

girl ignore this ask if it's invasive or anything but i was enjoying gleaning details about your reconnection with The Boy and would love more tidbits if you care to share. it's very nice thing to be romancing and romanced and i do love to hear of it.

It's not invasive!

There's a line from Sally Rooney's 'Normal People' that I keep turning over and over in my head with regards to George (for that is his name! As many know!): 'I'm not a religious person, Marianne, but I do sometimes think God made you for me.' Insert Jane Eyre quote about invisible strings here too, with a tiny dash of Persuasion by Austen. I have known this boy for 11 years. I feel it isn't silly to say I have had a connection, in varying degrees, with this boy for the same amount of time. To be given a second chance at a relationship feels like, genuinely, a miracle. What's even crazier is that, even though we were together the first time around 7 years ago, the connection was still there, for me at least, like...yes, I am re-acquainting myself with him and he with me, but I just feel like I'm revisiting a favourite book I've not read for a little while.

He's so sweet to me, makes me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world even though I am not (and he must know I'm not tbh sjdisadj). He takes my little hands in his occasionally and kisses them gently, and he puts up with all my little foibles, like the fact I have to be holding his hand at all times and swing it back and forth occasionally. We are relatively long-distance (I say relatively because he's only about 2 hours away from me on the train which, to someone who travels by train all the time, is really inconsequential) so I don't get to see him as often as I would like but we do see each other as often as we can, and I enjoy every little second with him! We are so similar (not EXACTLY the same, but that doesn't matter, I wouldn't want to be the mirror image of my partner) and it makes him v easy to adore. I think he's beautiful, inside and out. He's so smart, he's handsome, he's kind, he's polite, well-dressed, I could listen to him talk about his interests (even when they don't always directly correspond with mine) for hours, he's ambitious, he has promise and potential, and I can see him wowing the country one day, like as a politician (a good, decent one) or something. He wows me very regularly so!!!

I don't wanna like, martyr myself, but I've had a genuinely difficult two years. Don't really wanna go over it all again, but it just feels like I've been surrounded by abuse and disease and death for way too long. Obviously I was pretty ill myself, I did talk about it a bit on here when it was really getting me down. Had a particular chronic reproductive health issue which has only recently been resolved, and it changed my body, it meant that I actually physically could not be intimate, I went from being a sensual person to being a bit touch-repulsed actually (but not bc I found it repulsive, but I genuinely thought I might contaminate or repulse someone else), I didn't even feel like a woman, I felt like a diseased and defective creature...I wanna say it's been difficult to pull myself out of that place but.....it kind of hasn't, because George makes it v easy? I mean, I'm still getting used to the way my body has changed and I genuinely hate myself 99% of the time...HOWEVER....George is gentle, he's attentive, he's genuinely attracted to me (delusional LOL) but he also cares about me as I am, as me, as Olivia. That makes every gesture with him, affectionate, intimate, romantic, sexy, cute, WHATEVER, come so naturally to me. I don't feel ashamed of myself. And.....as much as it pains me to say because I don't think I'm a good person most of the time....I think I deserve to not feel ashamed.

[corvuscorona]

tbh the problem with the Eva rebuilds is that they make Kaworu a tragic heroic type instead of how he is in the anime and eoe, which is the character that hurts shinji the most and the probable main reason or at the very least a load bearing reason shinji un imminent izes the eschaton

( + pasting ur second ask here for easy reference: )

Sorry my internet died. I also don’t know why I’m sending these as an ask. I know my take on kaworu is controversial because the rebuilds are essential in establishing kaworu as the cornerstone he is. And not the two episodes and a few cameos he is pre rebuild, which had a lot of people overlooking or completely forgetting what he did. But also he kinda just fuckt everything up for arguably selfish reasons. Dandelion boy.

( also I want to preface this by saying: I'm SO stoked that you have sent me asks on this topic. fuck Yes. I would almost certainly NOT have typed any more sentences about it but now I have a reason to which is so exciting. early birthday present for ME!!! THANK you )

ok so. yyyyyes in that rebuild, to the extent that it does anything intentional with kaworu at all (which is a big BIG qualifier, imo), does seem to frame him sympathetically; ikwym; but. BUT... HOWEVER.

first and foremost, no matter WHAT the intent was with rebuild 3 or how people tend to collectively interpret the Plot Events Therein, literally every moment of that movie was like. "what are we doing here" to a degree that I have not seen since wonder egg priority came out. and the other 3 rebuilds are NOT far behind it on that front, so imo if we really want to boil things down to A The Problem, I would zoom WAY out.

I don't actually think he comes off as any less Ultimately Harmful in rebuild than he did in the anime? it is genuinely GENUINELY difficult to evaluate this just because again, I don't think rebuild Had A Point, which means I can't take things like "cause and effect" into account mostly, but even if I zoom all the way IN to Just the interpersonal drama, he very much caused shinji to re-un-pause the apocalypse & then exploded into gore two (2) feet away from his face.

...& then shinji spent the only kinda-okay part of the following movie exhibiting ptsd symptoms about it.

I could be missing something (eg, see next point on list), but I also thought his intentions were pretty thoroughly ambiguous in the anime. ME PERSONALLY, I am inclined to think of him as having genuinely decided "you know what. humans are cool," & as having had a limited amount of agency or background knowledge he could use to do much with that sentiment besides get shinji to squish him (he is an alien.), & while I acknowledge that this is one of probably one million different reads (& some of those are for sure better-informed than mine), the fact that it's There For The Reading makes me want to say that "how he was in the anime" was "inclined to cause problems either on purpose OR by accident, for reasons we can't know with any real certainty"

(I genuinely cannot comment on end of evangelion because I did Not rewatch it this time around. one time was enough. I do not care for that film & anyway anno was NOT speaking to me when he made it; it's none of my business.)

WERE the rebuilds The thing that established him as important in the hearts & minds of the people? I'm not gonna pretend like I have any real historical understanding of the nge fandom even a little bit, but the anime seemed PRETTY open-and-shut about it. and also EoE happened, and also there was the manga. and presumably fujos as well

finally: let me know if I'm misreading, but by "un-immanentize the eschaton," you mean "reject instrumentality," right? does that mean you're thinking about this from the perspective that EoE ends in tragedy (because now anyone who climbs outta the soup has to live in Apocalypse World)? I ask mostly bcuz I am very much An Optimist about evangelion; I'm that guy who finishes the anime & is like "aw good for him :')" & then treats all the other stuff like a funny curiosity I can read about on wikis sometimes recreationally. sorry. it's in my nature. so it's extremely possible that we're starting from Completely different reads in the first place (which is awesome DON'T get me wrong. fun puzzle).

I do think that no matter how you spin it kaworu is a load-bearing Something; we're in agreement on that. & he sure did hurt the fuck out of that kid (I love that episode I love kaworu he's so fucking funny. as like. a narrative device. "hello character who has spent this entire show getting pushed around & yelled at & has lived in Hell World his whole life. I'm here to transparently ask you what YOU think about (gestures) Whatever You Want. ah whoops you DO have to squish me to death now though sorry" like YEAH ALRIGHT MAN)... I think the "arguably selfish reasons" assertion is also very interesting; you could write so much fanfiction about that. again I'm sure I'm missing Lore Details & theory stuff & whatever but it really does feel like you could fill in his motivations with Anything You Wanted To Basically. are you talking about a specific Known Theory of some kind? I'm so curious now. What Does Kaworu Nagisa Want...

[strugglingatart]

Jr year ep 2

This is me live blogging bc I need to get thoughts out also would love fandom friends full spoilers bellow the cut just so no one accidentally reads anything they don't want to this will be long

No shenanigans at the begining way lowkey sad I love our intrepid heroes being dumb

Siobhan and Zac kick it off with SUCH good turns straight away we love (also emily's cutting words? delicious)

Them all discussing more stuff mid battle is so nice I love but also not Ally forgetting they could try to heal lol

"playing with you all at level 10 has never convinced me more that this game is unplayable at level 20. fucking unplayable" Brennan the man who I 100% have seen play att level 20. But we HAVE to stan the complaing I love them so much Murph especially I always laugh so much

Siobhan please we cannot be confident before rolls they go bad then

we were doing so well like seconds ago and now everything feels terrible

ARMOR OF AYDA omg my loves

Kristen and Riz are me when my friends are being to sexual but also Kristen please remember you and tracker?

NOT FABIAN FALLING AGAIN, and his idea was real good as well, but Ally yeeting the dice also a big mood

Lou's sass was so good I love im so much

only one person saving out of everyone is brutal why do dice currenntly hate them

Murph loosing it at Ally's saving throws being empty is so funny, and poor them gatting so defensive (also have they been doing it wrong this whole time then? has it never been written down? was is just a mistake on their season prep?)

Zac and Lou killed that look at me bit I'm sorry they are geniuses

I truly thought Brennan was gonna make this fight SO much easier and in many ways I get why he didn't but I'm not over it

Listen Murph is looking SO GOOD this season it legit distracted me for a few seconds I had to go back to understand what Brenan said about the van flipping I am a disaster queer through and through

this is so intense all of a sudden omgggg

Poor hangvan ily and know Gorgug will fix you tho

Oh no Kristen, but also the die deadass turned on them, sad vibes (also I miss good rolling Murph I know we had him for one ep but I loved him)

once again yeeting the dice is a mood and then the whole if i hit anyone bit, art tbh

AHHHHH that nat 1 followed by a nat 20 was magical, also Em is wearing the naddpod live shirt 😍 I was 110% with her tho I wanted Gorgug to get it so bad so that deception roll was EVERYTHING TO ME, Ayda claming Gorgug as the greatest wizard is legit one of my favorite things whenever they bring it up and support that theory my heart is so happy

Brenan just being like yes these npcs i made up for the media res are just for that they will die even if they don't

Zac has what healing thing? again not knowing enough about DnD makes me bad at knowing who can do what

shoutout to the two crew

listen this theme of exaustion specifically with school will end me like i cannot it hits too close

Moggy the doggy! we stan Adaine the little guys guy(gal?)

Did Cassandra text you? Nonstop

this flourish lacks flourish (me giving the finishing touches to art projects for university)

LISTEN Fig asking about first day of school outfit was literally Emily choosing violence omg I felt that deeply

I still have jump and i haven't used it so I'm just gonna... I love Zac

They all LOOSE IT at two more guys and I know it was mostly the players but honestly having an absolute laughing fit out of exaustion is another big mood and I felt both seen and called out (I have STROIES about this) and like it just fit the theme so well

there's two nat 1's, Lou's full discociated, Murph's loosing it, it's pure chaos for a bit but whoever did the closed captions? A+++ job

Kristen taking ths ice cream sandwich out and going to the hangman is gold (also I remember the pouch of ice cream sandwiches existing like I fully remeber Kristen usinf it before but i don't remeber when/where she gets it despite having just rewatched both freshman and sophomore years and it's bothering me)

I want the so tactical so late t-shirt

Fabian passed so I legit thought that was gonna work but you know what? it's funnier that it didn't

"I was a turncoat the whole time" is so funny for no reason, also Fabian babe, ily but like why do you wanna kiss a mirror it will not be enjoyable (also at this point Lou is either feeding into all the comp-het queer theories or is like the queer whisperer)

The father the son and the balthazar made me cackle

I have said this before in a post somewhere but while I get where Kristen is coming from so much like truly I'm right there with her but also I kinda hate how she's avoiding Cassandra but also I get it baby but also pls do better (or at least change tactics in odrer to to it lowkey unhealthily)

Fabian I promise you you can do better LMAO Riz, you are correct

Again to me Fig's hypothetical is like fighting words I'd be pissed and depressed

But also high school me would have loved a dance camp tbh (also to be able to dance in general rip my dancing dreams, taken away by a chronic issue and over protective parents)

"I think I do a really half hearted prayer of healling just because I don't.. trust you" I love Ally so much

ah yes the silliness is back but they are so tired

wanna stay at our place? we have so many beds

The entire ecaf bit was so good i cannot deal

Hallariel is saying Fabian's name more like the elves or am I tripping?

Gillear is slightly less pathetic! he won a cruise! oh and they are engaged, full step sibblings Fig and Fabian

also poor Fabian like he needs his parental figures here... Cathilda better stay or I'm personally gonna have words with Brennan, stop making them suffer they fuck up things alone

ALSOOO there is no way Gillear would not want to talk to Fig omg I'm fighting brennan again

Gillear luck... did Fig uncurse him by taking that deal and is she about to get his bad luck?

SKLONDA we stan

Brennan I swear to god this tiny goblin has saved the world three times what do you mean he cannot go to college I will fight you, this scene hit me so hard omg we were promised silliness not heart wrenching reality in my fantasy

I think Zac legitimately forgot the mirror didn't run away for like a second which makes it funnier but Fig IS just that good. 32 decepetion fool the character and the player

BRENAN what do you mean Zelda gave back his stuff this is DURING the seven where they are still TOGETHER I swear I will riot

Frosty fair mentioned twice it's connected to or the big thing this season

The Thistlespring are SO PRECIOUS

Jawbone and Sandra Lynn made a cake I can't deal, and it's belated birthdays omg the way I would cry

THE RAGH AND LYDIA ART IS SO GOOD

the justaposition of Emily's cackle and Ally's face to the dangers Fig and Kristen are dangerously and/or wildly close to being expell is so good

Lou choking on water at "we're allowed to fail a certain number of classes each semester" also real good treiler editing bc I thought that was 10000% connected to the you let your god die line that comes right before it on there

Fig's been multiclass since start of sophmore year, does she do warlock classes sometimes I wonder

I like that Jawbone is not judging here he's just like facts: you are failing and this is why, now we can see what we do about it

ouch that whole im swimming my head is liquid kristen thing felt dangerously close to me... I usually relate to gorgug and riz like i adore kristen but she's never me what is happening (this is not bad just me having like my 10th identity mini crisis this year)

THE AYDA ART she looks so bummed but so pretty.. but also Brenan I feel like I said I'll fight you a couple of times here but if we get no ayda I will fly to LA and fight you

I reached text limit will do a part two

[delugyu]

hii so sorry it took me so long to reply 😕 glad to hear you are doing good. hopefully by now classes are less hectic and i hope that the rest of the spring semester goes by smoothly 🤞🏾 honestly.. my life is in such an in between stage on every front, i wouldn’t even know how to begin to explain how i am 😭 for what it’s worth, im happy and healthy !

but yea, i see what you mean about not wanting to have included some sort of reader insert and pronouns before but truthfully i feel like the majority of readers that are actively keeping up at this point wouldn’t mind. it may have started as smut for the ovulating folk, but we’re beyond that now, we’re sat for the plot !!! speaking of which, you breaking down your thought process in response to my ask and the one you linked there too really had me itchinggg to reread all the parts 😭 im trying to wait for part 6 to binge read all of the previous parts as a refresher.

also, at the time i was mainly considering how gyu made things obvious to tae but mc had to of too 👁️ i think you talked about it in response to a different ask awhile back about how mc would inevitably be more attached to beomgyu too after everything. i could imagine that bleeding over into when he’s mentioned in conversation, her possibly perking up a bit or, the opposite, trying too hard to appear neutral. even if it’s more subtle like a glint in her eyes that tae wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t searching for something in them. like you said, it wouldn’t take much for him to put things together… i really do look forward to learning more about mc and taehyun’s dynamic especially as we’re seeing taehyun and beomgyu’s change over time. also kind of curious how mc navigates the guilt she must feel for both men; would she have confided in anyone about this situation?

side note: i really love how you are writing these drabbles!!! reading something from an unreliable narrator’s lens really just does it for me every time! it’s been so long since i’ve been so invested in someone’s writings, especially on moablr omg

— ♐️ stellium anon aka miss yappaholic

HIIIIII <3333 omg don’t be sorry hehe i luv a good long message no matter the wait

agh thank u for the end of semester support, my to do list is slowly shrinking which is very satisfying to see lmao. three cheers for happiness and health 🥂 that’s always a sign that ur doing something right hehe

definitely relieving to hear from a reader that the use of pronouns or “y/n” won’t negatively impact the series lol. smut for the ovulating folk is pretty much my brand! that and like desperate pathetic men LMFAO. not a bad thing to be known for tbh i’ll wear those titles with pride. lolllll hold out for part 6!!! honestly i think i’m due for a re-reading of the series at this point too, just to make sure i got my storyline straight 😭 i gotta get real creative with how to incorporate a smut scene into part 6 that is still in alignment with the story and characters lol. the people want a thigh fucking scene so i’m debating between doing that (which would mean mc unambiguously cheating on tyun) orrrrr doing something a little less extreme which would be more gray in regards to if it’s cheating. well i mean it’s still kinda cheating but not as crazy as thigh fucking LMAO. omg ppl are gonna view me as some mega cheater or cheater apologist after this… i’m starting my notes app apology now so i’m prepared.

but i mean honestly i’m not super worried about people’s reactions to mc’s future decisions. super pedantic character analysis coming up lmfao but mc’s always been shown to give in to gyu pretty easily. the difference now is that she’s actually in a relationship, and she holds herself to a certain standard. she really wants to be a good girlfriend, but at the same time she has the most gelatin spine on earth and bends to gyu’s wishes without much fight. like we saw in part 4, things are pretty serious between her and taehyun already, and she’s hesitant to be intimate with beomgyu, but she ends up doing it anyway. she obviously shows some guilt for this as we see with her mentioning taehyun multiple times when she’s with gyu. taehyun is definitely on her mind while beomgyu’s getting his freak on LMAO but it’s not like oh i wish taehyun was here instead, it’s more like this is kinda immoral and will be REALLY immoral when im dating taehyun for real. so she’s worried about upholding her own moral code, but because she folds so easily, i don’t think it will be too hard for gyu to convince her to at least do a little something with him. she’ll feel super guilty about it so gyu will have to turn up the sweet talking to make her feel better.

yup mc is def more attached to gyu after everything she’s done with him!! omg u are so right about that affecting her life more than she expected, she’d definitely be too focused on appearing normal when gyu is mentioned in conversations, or tune in when she overhears people talking about him. ackkkk this is making me so excited to keep developing the story LOL

how mc deals with her guilt is a really good question, cause the further she goes now, the more consumed by the feeling she’ll be. she’s not the kind of person who protects her peace, she’s more like the type to scramble with the consequences and hope for the best. i feel like she’s convincing herself, and having beomgyu help convince her, that she never went too far with him. a part of her deep down must know that’s not true, though, cause i don’t envision her confiding in anyone about it, mostly due to shame. she doesn’t want to break the idea she’s built that she’s not in the wrong, but it’s a veryyyy delicate illusion and she knows that others wouldn’t agree with her actions. beomgyu is more than happy to ease her worries lol, but i think with him he actually is convinced that there’s nothing wrong with what they’re doing. he doesn’t think that any lines are being crossed because he doesn’t take her relationship with taehyun seriously. he knows that they’re together, and he knows that mc likes taehyun, but he thinks that mc’s just blinded and needs to see that beomgyu is the better option. part of it feels like a competition now, and he needs mc to feed his ego and make him feel worthwhile. he doesn’t like feeling like a tool mc used to get to taehyun, and a part of him wants to blame her for doing that and paint her in a cruel light, but he also can’t really get himself to believe that idea. ultimately he sees mc as this angel that can do no wrong, even if she hurts his feelings. part of the reason why it’s so hard for him to stop obsessing over mc is because he thinks she’s so perfect, and he just needs to make her realize that he’s perfect too.

eekkkkk thank u!!! 🙈🙈 more unreliable narration is to come LMAO especially now that tyun and mc are really together… beomgyu’s going to be reading into things that are not that serious, or interpreting things the way he wants to see them. fun stuff! i’m so glad ur invested this is so exciting YAYYYY im very flattered by ur compliments 🤍🤍🤍

i will match ur yap every time fear not i am so down to read literal essays worth of this stuff. lol thank u again and i’m glad ur doing well!!!!

[apoptoses]

i gotta know, what order do you rank the VCs

oh man I cannot number order them, to do that would be like picking a favorite cat and they change depending on my mood so like I gotta go with the tier system.

ALSO I never promised anyone here that I had taste, these are my own personal feelings etc etc Mostly I have ranked them based on how much I skim when (or if) I re-read lol

The Vampire Armand- Anne put her whole entire vampirussy into this one like this is the book that has everything!!! There's angst, there's smut, there's cults and kidnapping, there's the beauty and high drama of the Venetian renaissance, what more could you want!! And honestly I think her Armand voice is one of her strongest, right up there with Lestat. You could take an Armand quote out of context and know he's the one speaking. Even my least favorite parts of TVA are still more enjoyable than the best parts of the VC books I don't love.

The Devil's Minion Chapter of QotD specifically - absolute insanity, just banger after banger, not a single word wasted. I could have read an entire novel of this, and again, a unique voice and style! I think this part of the book slaps so hard because it's the first truly modern part of the VC, told from a modern perspective and like. It's so good because every VC reader has probably thought 'wow how exciting would it be to be a vampire's companion/lover' and then Anne actually went and wrote what that would be like. Incredible!

The Vampire Lestat - Getting the back story of the characters introduced in interview is incredible and I feel like Anne finally cut loose and let herself start to be a weirdo with all the world building and entangled relationships. Also just worth the re-read for Armand drop kicking Lestat out of Notre Dame and Marius's insane house of taxidermy and baboons.

Interview with the Vampire- a classic, no other details needed.

Tale of the Body Thief- a polarizing choice I know, but it's such a wild diversion from the typical VC books. Lestat described himself as the James Bond of Vampires and this is the one book that's truly like a tightly written action movie. And Lestat is just so monstrous in it, and in a really complex way- like he's partly reacting to the trauma he went through with Akasha, he's at a low point with self esteem, but then also some of this behavior begs the question of whether being a vampire made him the way he is or whether it's just inherent in him. An underrated VC book tbh.

Blood and Gold- I just love that Anne took on the challenge of writing the life story of a vampire that is thousands of years old. Reading it gives me the same feeling of growing up and realizing that the people you considered 'adults' are just as lost and mentally immature and messed up as you, and never really had any idea what they were doing when child-you thought they had it all together. Also I just love anything that gives me more of the events of Armand's life from another pov.

Queen of the Damned- a great story but I get bogged down by the number of characters and plot lines introduced every time I re-read it, and I end up skimming some of the POVs (or skipping them entirely like baby jenks) I know Anne finally put her foot down and told her editors to fuck off with this one but I wish she'd listened to them just a tiiiiny bit and cut some stuff/expanded other more interesting stuff.

Pandora - Such tight writing!! I wish Pandora hadn't been sidelined in the other books because Anne built such a strong character with her, she deserved better tbh!!

Prince Lestat - it's okay, I just like the sections with my favorite characters and seeing some secondary characters return like Bianca and Allessandra and Antoine. Getting some resolution on what happened with them and where they are closer to the modern day was nice. Also the stuff with Fareed giving Lestat hormones so he could fuck and then get Maury Povich'd eighteen years later was hilarious nonsense, 10/10 Anne insanity. This book just feels like fun trashy vampire stuff (affectionate) in the same way watching True Blood feels like fun trashy vampire stuff, so even if it's not Anne's best work it's still alright imo.

Memnoch the Devil - I simply do not care about God or the Devil or Dora or Rembrandt enough to care about this book, and it only gets ranked below Prince Lestat because I think it drags where PL has a faster pace that allows my brain to skim over the least tasty parts. Really it only makes it to D because of Armand in his dusty jean jacket and Lestat using Dora's uterus as his personal capri sun. Overall though just a slog to get through.

Blood Communion - I just personally do not care for the whole vampire court concept and wish Anne had dropped it after the replimoids. Like I tolerate it in Prince Lestat but ending the series on 'united vampire community' feels off to me when the whole concept of vampires is that they're outsiders struggling with immortality. Also, another kidnapping plot? Anne pls you're better than this.

Merrick - I have erased everything but the Louis bits of this book from my mind. We simply did not need Claudia's vengeful spirit or Louis getting force upgraded and the humanity of him erased by Lestat's ultra-powerful blood but we got it anyways I guess. Very atmospheric though, I do like the return to New Orleans as a setting.

Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis - Cruel of Anne to put Atlantis in the title and give us aliens instead of mermaids. The most cracked out VC book in existence, would only re-read if paid to. I have no words for how much I do not care for this book, especially after reading Anne's notes at Tulane and knowing what could have existed instead.

The Vampire Vittorio - such a flop of a vampire he never even gets mentioned in the other VC books. I do not know this man. This book does not exist to me.

[thelioncourts]

Usually I’m pretty level-headed and I don’t get carried away by the mess in this fandom, because I know it’s a powder keg just waiting to blow. And the hiatus doesn’t help.

But I’ll admit, lately especially because of Mark Johnson, I let myself spiral a bit with the doomposting.

That was before your latest ask brought me back down to earth. It really helped, so thank you!

I hate how most discussions on every sides lack nuances and everyone keeps dismissing everyone.

It’s so rare to find accounts like yours people who love Louis and are excited about the TVL season and don't hate Lestat, but also love Lestat without wanting Louis to vanish. I’m not sure that last part was clear,I mean the "Lestat is the main character of TVC, get over it" crowd.

Anyway, I could honestly read your takes on season 3 all day."

Ahhh, I'm so glad I could help some!

It's so hard not to fall into doom and despair though, we are, unfortunately, an echo chamber of a fandom and there is an absolute condescending tone in a lot of Lestat-stans when Louis-stans voice concerns, but I do think a lot of Louis-stans, in turn, get mean about things, when genuinely I think most of us (???) want the same thing which is for Louis and Lestat to both be explored with depth and complexities while simultaneously being the most insane couple to grace the television.

Re: Mark Johnson, I seriously think he's a dumb old white man. And I don't think that excuses anything by any means, and I hope he gets told off for being a moron, but he's always felt very out of the loop with IwtV (queer, black-led horror show???) and absolutely operates 'old-school style' in his own head and, in turn, his ignorance and stupidity rear their heads in the ugliest way.

Discussions lacking nuance is why I genuinely just refuse to get into anything in detail on Twitter anymore. nobody reads full threads, they only respond to parts of it, it's not conducive to conversation, and the pqrt'ing and just blatant retweeting of vitriolic comments are too much. Again, bouncing off of what I said above, it's so frustrating because I think so many of us actually want the same, or at least similar, things, but everyone gets soooo caught up in hit tweet content that we just. get nowhere.

I'm glad I can be that kind of account, it really is just who I am about this all though 😭 Louis has always been my favorite character, and Lestat has always been my second favorite, but their love is what kept me going throughout the entire TVC series, like I spent my entire time reading those books yearning for every mention of one of them by the other, every thought, every moment, and now we have a show that is running with the love story and making it even more devastating, even more of a focal point, and it's all I can think about all the time. I do think some people think focusing on love or romance is a weak thing, but it makes me happy and I'm so happy the show is doing that because it also means a ton of screentime with both of these characters.

The 'Lestat is the main character of TVC' crowd are soooo funny to me, they live in a delusional world that somehow watched the first two seasons and thought that the show would follow in Anne's footsteps of dismissing the other characters for Lestat to just go do Things. Again, not only would it be bad storytelling in general, but it doesn't make sense with this show 😭

I'm currently discussing with a friend some speculation for Season 3 and I'm waiting on one particular bit of news (which I'm not sure if we'll ever get before the show airs tbh like !!! I have no idea) that would change a lot of my thoughts, but ! Season 3 is very fun to talk and think about. Thank you for reading any of my inane rambles about it lol