#this one's a doozy but i'm so so happy

[palilious]

He doesn't like horror games another commish for a client on twt!

[capitalismwasamistake]

Patri/William Vangeance, 42k one-shot

No Archive Warnings Apply

This one is for all the angst lovers out there - pure agony with a dash of Hurt/Comfort at the end. Happy Ending, of course.

Most important tags:

heavy angst angst with a happy ending hurt/comfort depression passive suicidality disordered eating unreality altered mental states

Summary:

After separating from Patri, William suffers the consequences of being alone for the first time in his life.

Far away, in Elysia, the elves struggle to make amends and live in peace. Yet guilt seems to follow Patri everywhere.

What was broken cannot come back together again. Or maybe it can.

[photon-crest-art]

Attack for Aureliius on AF

[kscribbs]

Miller's Law Snippets

Snip 1 💤

And so she stayed like that. One arm curled around his torso, face nestled into the narrow space between his shoulder blades. — A protective barrier, shielding him from the darkness of his own mind.

Whenever she sensed that he might be submitting to it again she’d move their conjoined hands to his chest/heart, trying to imbue as much warmth and comfort and… well, love, as possible. Willing his heart-rate to return to a normal rhythm. And she'd speak to him. Using the same soft, consoling timbre she reserved for anxious patients. It seemed to work, for he’d soon grow still again, drifting back into what she hoped were pleasant, happy dreams. Dreams of things and people and places he loved. The rose garden at Frost Manor. His favourite memories with Jacqueline and the Twins. Endless games of Elemental Ball…

He was fully-thawed now, but his fingers remained icy, frost creeping from his palms, across the counterpane, and after awhile Lucy’s own fingers began to ache and burn. But still, she didn’t let go. She stayed there for hours. Hours upon hours, watching dawn crack over the horizon like a robin's egg, spilling its golden light across the Canton de Bern. Watching the sky shift from pale blue to silver-grey and snow begin to drift down in large, fluffy flakes. Watching morning bleed into afternoon, and afternoon into evening, and night settle into all the room’s nooks and recesses like the ink in the creases of her palms.

Still, she didn’t let go.

Eventually the clouds cleared, and the sky stretched before her as a great, glittering vault. The silver river of the Milky Way was so much more vivid out here. She never saw this many stars in New York. 

And Jack stayed sleeping, snoring softly, stirring minimally, his hand tightening in hers, every so often, the odd murmur drifting from his lips. Sometimes they were unintelligible. Other times she could make out certain words. Names, more oft than not. His mother’s. Jacqueline’s. Even her own, on one occasion. 

She was overexerting herself, she knew. Using her powers to excess. He was going to be cross with her, when he did wake. Chide her, lecture her. But she hardly cared. She would make sure he got the rest he’d been so sorely deprived of if it killed her. 

How long had he been suffering like this? she asked herself, again and again. He’d said they came in cycles, but how long had they been this severe? And how bad of a doctor — a friend, moreover — was she, for not having uncovered the truth sooner?

After a full twenty-four hours she was forced to get up to use the washroom, as well as grab something to eat and drink, all of which she did as swiftly as possible, before returning to his side (his other side now, seeing as he was one of those people who tended to gravitate, catlike, towards the centre of the bed) with her laptop in tow. He had begun to look a little strained in her absence, so she carded her fingers through his hair, pressed a kiss to the groove between his brows. And that seemed to do the trick.

She put on Season One of Gilmore Girls, keeping the volume low, and settled in for another long shift. 

The room was well-lit and warm now, a fire crackling merrily in the hearth, and Lucy couldn’t help muse that, amidst all the grief and the horror — the gaping, cavernous knowledge of her own infirmity -- she felt… oddly at peace. Like they were living in a kind of vacuum, away from the rest of the world. A perfect, snow-capped bell jar.

It helped, she supposed, that Gstaad had a real fairytale feel to it. Like something out of a Hans Christian Andersen story.

Finally, around fifty-three hours after he’d first fallen asleep, and while she was almost-but-not-quite drifting off to Monty Python and The Holy Grail (a favourite of his), she felt a groggy chuckle reverberate against her left side, and glanced up to find him grinning at the screen. His hair was a complete mess, thanks to her ministrations; making him look a bit like a lion coming into its mane.

‘I love the Pythons,’ he said, huskily.

‘I know.’

‘Most people don’t know why they named it “Monty Python”. It was because they thought it sounded like a really bad theatrical agent. Did you know that?’

‘I didn't,' Lucy said fondly, angling the laptop more towards him. ‘Good Fact. I'll remember it for next time I see dad.'

He sat up a bit, rubbing his eyes with the hand that wasn’t connected to hers. A little colour rose in his face, when he took notice of the fact, but he didn't let go. Quite the contrary, actually -- he gave it a gentle squeeze, running his thumb over her knuckles.

‘Mmgh. Jeez. My joints are killing me. How long was I out for? Couple hours?’

'Uh... little more than that, actually.'

'How much more?' His fingers trailed over his chin, which was noticeably stubbled. He frowned. 'Wait a minute...'

__

Snip 2 📱

‘Christ, I know. She’d be beside herself. But there’s very little we can do right now to—’ Melusine was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing. ‘…Do you hear— ? …Who’s is that?’

Lucy’s, it transpired; recognisable by its bright pink, flowery case. It lay abandoned on the kitchen table, half buried beneath a tea towel. The contact flashing on the screen made Jack’s skin crawl with dislike. 

“Matt (Weird Sevens Guy)”.

‘Oh, he can bugger right off! The rotter,’ Melusine growled, tossing her empty bowl into the sink as if it had just declared itself a close associate of said "rotter"(...?). ‘That’s the LAST thing Luce needs right now. I can’t bleedin’ stand that man, Jack. Always sniffing around her, like a hyena.'

'Yeah, what's up with that? It's like, uh, hello? Get a hobby, maybe? ...Preferably one that involves heavy machinery and very lax safety regulations.'

'Too right. He's trouble, I swear. You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to answer, blow a raspberry down the phone and then hang up.’

‘W-- now, Melusine,’ Jack chided, yanking her back by the hem of her blouse. 

‘What? That’s funny!’

‘Funny, sure. But somehow I don’t think Lucy’d thank you for it.’

‘So? She’s not here to nag me about it, is she? And what’s more, she’s not the boss of me. Or you, I hasten to add. …Actually, scratch that.’ She smirked at him. ‘We both know that’s not true. You’d stand in the path of an oncoming train, if she asked you to. Oh wait—’

‘Yeah, yeah—’

‘--You did do that! What a lark.’

‘Hmno. No, no. SHE did that. Charged full tilt towards it, in fact. I just happened to be clinging to the back of her broomstick, at the time.’ Jack shook his head ruefully. ‘It was—’

‘Attractive?’

‘—terrifying.’

‘Terrifyingly attractive. Tell me I’m wrong.’

‘…The woman has a screw loose, is-is what I’m saying.' He cleared his throat. 'Stark raving bonkers, as you Brits would say. And here I’d been under the impression that she was the better adjusted, of the three of us.’

‘Oh come now, you always knew she had a reckless streak.’

‘A reckless streak, yeah. Mm-hm. Totally. The key word there being "streak". What I didn’t know was that she was the second coming of Knievel. Sectionable, by all accoun… what’re you doing…?’ 

Melusine now had Lucy’s phone in hand, and Jack was concerned to see her typing up what looked like a—

‘Virtual curse,’ she explained, casually. ‘Nothing too serious, of course. Won’t do him any real harm. Just turn a very specific part of his anatomy into an eel. Eheh. See what me makes of th— oi! Give it back!’

‘Are you serious right now?’

‘Look, I know you’ve developed a “conscience”, or whatever, since your thaw,’ she huffed, standing on her tiptoes to try to snatch the phone from his grasp (a difficult feat, given their difference in height). ‘And that’s lovely — bravo. Very happy for you. I, on the other hand, misplaced mine centuries ago and have yet to rediscover it. I suspect it’s buried at the bottom of a sock drawer somewhere, though I really can’t be arsed to look… I’ve therefore ze-ro scruples about giving our mutual nemesis the ol’ what-for.’

‘This has absolutely nothing to do with “conscience or whotever"; I couldn't give less of a shit about what happens to that guy. In fact it would give me no greater pleasure to watch him have to waddle his way to the DMI ward. I'd just rather not end up in Lucy's bad books, as a result. Things are going really well between us right now, if you hadn't noticed? And I'd prefer to keep it that w-- ...don't look at me like that.’

‘Oh, but it’s just so sweet.' Melusine simpered, clasping her hands together kittenishly. 'The Great and Powerful Jack Frost, all… twitterpatery. Never thought I’d see the day!’

‘I’m not— i-it’s not because I—' She raised a sculpted brow at him. 'Look, shut up, okay?! I just can’t afford to lose any more strikes! I only have the one left! And I really don’t wanna find out what happens when I reach naught.’

‘She’ll probably just make you do lines or something. I wouldn’t worry.’

‘Or, she might jinx me! Put me in a full body bind.’

‘Don't act like you wouldn't enjoy it.’ Melusine sent him an arch look, making him flush. ‘But fine. If you're that much of a jessie, I'll take the brunt of any potential Miller ire.’

‘Pfft. As if I’m going to trust that.’

‘It’s the truth!’

‘You’ll have to forgive me for being the slightest bit dubious, given… you know. Every single one of our interactions over the last two centuries.’

At her mulish look Jack sighed, realising that he was fighting a losing battle. Though he truly didn’t want to buy himself a one-way ticket to the dog house, he couldn’t deny that seeing what’shisname (Mason? Murray? ...Sketchy, overly-solicitous guy who didn't come anywhere close to deserving the object of his "affection"?) receive a good cursing was an attractive prospect. 

A very attractive prospect.

Hm. 

‘Y'know what...? Fine,’ he relented. ‘Whatever. You reap what you sow, Melville. Do as you please, just leave me out of it.’ 

‘What I’m sowing is chaos, and I have my fingers crossed for a bountiful harvest.’

‘…In that case, an electric eel would be far funnier. Just a thought.’

‘My, my!’ Melusine's brows did the milage to her hairline. ‘Two good ideas in under twenty-four hours. That must be some kind of record! Remind me to mark the occasion in the official "Jack Had an Idea" Excel spreadsheet.’

Jack was just about to respond with his own (far more cutting) witticism when a sleepy voice from the doorway said, ‘Why do you guys look like you’re scheming?’ 

The two of them jumped, turning to find Lucy standing over the threshold, looking charmingly dishevelled.

While Jack smiled dotingly, all other thoughts fleeing his mind at the sight of her, Melusine, startled by her appearance, grabbed the phone from his hand and lobbed it at the window, which shattered.

There was a moment of confused silence.

‘…Bollocks. Could’ve sworn that was open.’

__

Snip 3 ⏳

‘What’s the matter?’ 

And there it was, Lucy thought. The Look. The one that always made her feel like he could see under her skin. The familiarity of it, after all these years, was like a blow to the jugular.

‘N-Nothing, I--’ She drew in a shuddering breath. ‘I’m just... having a bit of a hard day, s’all.’

‘Why?’

‘…I… miss my friend. ...A lot. I haven’t seen him in a long time, you see. A very long time.’

‘Where is he?’ The boy cocked his head curiously, resembling a bird listening for earthworms. ‘Did he die?’

Kids. So forthright. 

‘No. No, honey, he didn’t die.’

‘Then why can’t you see him?’

Lucy’s lips twitched. 

Hiking up her skirts, she knelt down to his level, studying his narrow face. The same face she mapped out in her mind each night, before she went to sleep, so that she wouldn’t forget. Every line, every furrow. Every repressed spasm or overexertion of emotion.

Piece by piece, the memories settled around her. Like snowfall. -- A worried grimace as he sat at her bedside, holding her hand through what, at the time, had been her worst surge to date. A sleepy grin, as he watched Monty Python over her shoulder, while the world outside faded to white. Deep concentration pulling his features taught as he tinkered at his Steinway. The panicked, pleading look he'd sent her when she left him slaving over a hot stove with her mom and Nana, while she, Charlie and her dad retired to the basement to "assemble furniture" (drink beer and watch the Bears game). Countless looks of gentle reprove, mixed with grudging amusement, whenever she teased him about his eccentricities. The brief flashes of pride and adoration she'd grown increasingly better at catching, in the months preceding her "Jump".

The mingled shock and delight, that afternoon at the cottage, as the heady scent of magnolia drifted in through the window and the rain thundered on the roof. Arguably her favourite memory of him.

...The abject terror, as he lay writhing in pain--

No.

No, that one she would not think of. That one she made a concerted effort to bury, stifle. Locking it away, in the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind.

This face, though… this face was smooth and bright, filled with the earnestness of childhood. The lofty bone structure, the crooked nose, the dimpled cheeks. The blue, blue eyes. It was all him. And at the same time, it wasn’t. Not quite. Not yet. 

To look into his eyes after all this time and not have him recognise her, even a little bit...? Hurt more than Lucy would've ever thought possible.

‘It’s… it’s complicated, kiddo,’ she said, eventually. ‘Grown-up stuff, y’know?’

‘Well.’ He drew himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest importantly. ‘I don’t wanna brag or anythin’, but I happen to be very mature.’

‘Oh, is that so?’

‘Yep! My teacher said so. Said that I’m the most prec-- prero--'

'Precocious?'

'Reprocious boy in my class. And that's why I find it hard to make friends.'

'You do?' Lucy put a hand over her heart. 'Oh dear.'

His ears turned a little pink, as if he'd disclosed more than he'd intended to.

'N-Not that I care! Why should I? They're all dunderheads anyway. And I'm special. I'm gonna do Big Things when I leave school!'

‘Really now? Golly.'

‘Mm-hm! And then they'll ALL wanna be my friend. But by that point it'll be too late, 'cause I'll be rich and famous and everyone will know how great I am.'

It made so much sense, in hindsight. So much sense. All he'd ever wanted was to be accepted. Understood. Lauded for his intelligence, his studiousness, his unparalleled talents. To make the people he looked up to proud. He'd just gone about it in a totally roundabout way, steered off-course by his wicked old uncle. His deepest insecurities warped into something far more sinister than they would've been otherwise. At his core he was just a troubled little boy.

It would be so easy, the thought came to Lucy suddenly. So easy to simply scoop him up in her arms -- thaw him there and then. The curse wasn’t overly evident yet; not to the untrained eye, anyway. But it was there. Lurking just beneath the surface. His big blue eyes had a near-imperceptible chill to them. His face, though more flushed than that of his adult, frozen self, was nevertheless quite pale. He was a ticking time bomb.

If she diffused that bomb now none of it — none of the pain, the heartbreak, the guilt and the regret — would come to pass. He would have those years his present self mourned so dearly. He would have his family. His sister. 

He would be happy. 

And oh, how she wanted that for him. For all of them. The zany, ragtag family she'd grown to love so dearly over the years.

But she couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t. She’d been given strict instructions by Father Time. Though it went against her every instinct, she had to let things play out the way they were meant to. The way they already had, for her to be here in the first place.

'Annnnyway, point being: I think I can handle “complicated”. So if you need someone to talk to, I'm your guy.' He grinned at her, all dimples and charm, and Lucy’s heart swelled with affection. She found herself caught between laughter and tears. It seemed inconceivable that her love for him could continue to grow any more than it already had, and yet... in that moment, it did.

It might’ve been easier to believe him, on the "maturity" front, had he not been talking with a subtle, but nevertheless noticeable, lisp — most likely a result of his missing front teeth. To say nothing of the sizeable blob of jam in the corner of his mouth.

‘Even so, lil' man; I wouldn’t wanna bring you down,’ she said, with a gentle smile. ‘Plus, I… I don’t really feel like talking about it right now.’

‘Hm. That's understandable, I s'pose.’ He nodded seriously. ‘Welp. If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure he misses you too. Your friend.’

'You think?’ 

‘Sure! I mean... you seem like a nice person. I think I’d miss you, if I were him. Or he were me. Or whatever.' A little more colour rose in his face, and he glanced away bashfully, scuffing the ground with the toe of his shoe. 'I think... I think I'd be really glad to have a friend like you, actually.'

When he looked up again it was to find silent tears running down her face.

'Oh! Ah… was it… something I said?’

‘No, no, I just… that’s very s-sweet,’ Lucy warbled, dabbing her eyes with the sleeve of her cloak. ‘Thank you.’

In the next moment she found a familiar, embroidered foulard being thrust into her grip. She took it gratefully, letting it sit in her hands for several seconds. The silk was softer than she remembered it being.

‘This is l-lovely. Are you sure you don’t mind me using it?’

‘'Course not.' He waved her off. ‘My father says a gentleman always gives a crying lady his kerchief. It’s the chirivus-- chivrulus-- honourable thing to do.'

‘Oh and he's quite right. Your father’s governor, isn’t he? Governor Frost?'

'Ya-huh! That's the one.'

'He's a great man. I mi-- like him very much.’

‘Sometimes he takes me to work with him, and I get to boss people around. It’s really fun.’

‘Mm, I bet.’

[britishchick09]

when i switched from vista to windows 7, my dad copied everything to a new drive and 500 files had the 'created' date as the copy day, which messed a lot of stuff up! :/

but we recently discovered robocopy and used that to transfer my files to a bigger drive... and all the dates are right! :D

[trustmypoison]

SVT and Jealousy

Requested? Yes!

Requests: "seventeen reaction to their partner being jealous" and "seventeen getting jealous over their partner? could be because someone’s flirting with their partner or maybe their partner is spending more time with a coworker or classmate to complete a project"

A/N: this one was a bit of a doozy since I decided to address both requests in one go.

A/N #2: This is the new and improved version which includes all of the members. Thank you to the person that let me know that one was missing. I'm not sure if reblogs that are already out there will contain this fix, but just an FYI.

Seungcheol

When he’s jealous: everyone saw this coming. It takes very little for him to be like, “hmm, that person is too close” or “that person’s talking to you too much”. Might insert him into the conversation both verbally and physically in a way that screams that you’re taken. Sometimes you’ll roll your eyes about it and call him a big baby, but sometimes you might have to have a serious conversation about whether he trusts you or not. Will still want to make it apparent that you’re taken even if it’s not super aggressive, so that’s kind of a non-negotiable here, I fear. 

When you’re jealous: oddly, I think he’d be confused by this. Not because he doesn’t understand jealousy, but because he feels there’s no reason. He’s so unapologetically into you that he’s totally lost when you say someone was too close to him or talking to him too much. You’ll have to equate your jealousy to his own for him to ever get it - you know, the typical “would you like it if I did that?” He would not. 

Jeonghan

When he’s jealous: such a rarity. He’s pretty secure in general, I think, so on a typical day it never occurs to him to be jealous. But I think if there were someone that you’re closer with or have a deeper history with (like a close friend that seems to blur lines or an ex that you still see from time to time), he might feel a little jealousy stir. SUPER passive aggressive if he’s ever feeling this way. You’ll leave an interaction and have to be like “what the hell was that???” Will never admit to said jealousy. 

When you’re jealous: he actually wants you to be a little jealous. Starting to sound like a potential red flag, but hear me out. Won’t do anything crazy, but might not shut down a conversation that he recognizes as a tad too friendly right away, only to watch how you react. I believe he’d do this to reassure himself that you care. If you tell him something like that really bothers you, then I think he’d stop though. 

Joshua

When he’s jealous: this absolutely manifests as insecurity. If you talk a little too much about one of your coworkers, it might make him think about what that coworker has that he doesn’t. Might not ever admit to the jealousy itself, but will certainly ask for a little extra reassurance when he’s feeling like this. 'Do you still love me?' 'Are you happy with our relationship?' 'Are there things I could do to make you happier?' Put this sweet, sweet man out of his misery. 

When you’re jealous: oh, he never means for this to happen, I promise. He wants you to feel secure in the relationship, the same way he wants security himself. But he’s so friendly sometimes that both you and everyone else might misread it as something else. If you tell him you were bothered by something, he’ll make a real effort to eliminate the possibility of that happening again, but it is what it is sometimes. 

Jun

When he’s jealous: it’s obvious because he clams up. Will give very brief answers with a little furrow in his eyebrows until you finally ask him if he’s alright and he falls apart. “Do you even love me anymore?!?” The drama!! You’ll have to press for specifics about what made him feel this way so you can avoid it in the future. At the very least, reassure this big baby that you still love him. 

When you’re jealous: smug for only a moment. Quite literally a single second. He doesn’t like the idea that you doubt his love, just like you wouldn’t like it when he doubts yours. So he’ll be more cognizant in future interactions and if something can’t be helped, he’s reassuring you right away that it wasn’t what you might think. 

Hoshi

When he’s jealous: so pouty and sulky. Where as Jun might bite his tongue for a little bit, I don’t think Soonyoung would. He’ll let you know right away that he doesn’t like this person and might even beg you to put some serious distance between you and them. Another big baby to reassure, but he’s really just nervous that you might not like him as much as he thought. 

When you’re jealous: huge question mark floating above his head. Then when it clicks, he’s quick to assure you it’s nothing like that and you have nothing to worry about. Will lay it on thick just because he wants you to understand how into you he is. Will freely admit that there’s not a single thought in his head besides you a lot of the time. What you don’t know is that that conversation you saw across the room consisted of ‘my partner’ this and ‘my partner’ that. 

Wonwoo

When he’s jealous: will never say it. He’s a lock box when it comes to this. If you do manage to pry this out of him, I think it won’t manifest in words as much as it would in actions in the bedroom. Would not be super possessive in public, but will want the reassurance that only he can do that and see you like that, you know? 

When you’re jealous: smug for a moment as well, before he’s putting your mind at ease right away. Even if he won’t say when he’s jealous, he’ll tell you exactly what he thinks of that person that was just a little too close to him for your liking, even or rather especially if it’s mean. This might also manifest in the bedroom if only because he’s just not a man of many words. 

Woozi

When he’s jealous: will become pretty irritable about it. When you leave this event, he’s snippy and seems annoyed with everything you say. This honestly might lead to a little bit of a fight and it might take some time to reassure him on where you stand. Really just wants to know that you’re his as much as he’s yours but won’t feel like he can come right out and say that. 

When you’re jealous: totally lost. He works with a ton of artists, but why is it an issue now? If you say it’s because you’re sure this person is into him what with the messages that have been going back and forth, he’ll flat out say he doesn’t care about this other person. Would be pretty intentional about drawing boundaries with this person from then on because he trusts that you’re seeing something real there. 

DK

When he’s jealous: oh boy. How can he draw attention to himself immediately? If his big personality doesn’t work, then he’ll resort to making it apparent that you’re taken, probably by just coming over and introducing himself as your boyfriend. If you raise an eyebrow at him about it later, he’ll shrug. “What, am I not?” Never mind that he’s praying that you agree and he didn't somehow miss an entire breakup. 

When you’re jealous: much like Joshua, he’s perhaps a little too friendly for his own good. Totally oblivious about the other person’s intentions until it’s a little too late. The moment this person tries to touch him or say something flirty, he’s dragging you over to him, saying “hey, have you met my partner that I’m super in love with???” Not subtle at all and will not let you linger on those sort of thoughts. 

Mingyu

When he’s jealous: Another one that could be a bit intense in making sure someone understands you’re taken. Like s.coups, it takes very little for him to get to this point. Talk about clingy anytime, but specifically in this situation. Doesn’t even have to say anything because he's already hanging all over you, but trust me he will. It’s ‘baby’ this and ‘love of my life’ that when he inserts himself into the conversation. Totally good once your attention is back on him, so another of the big baby club.

When you’re jealous: A natural flirt and absolutely won’t mean it. I picture that you will have to be just as aggressive as he is when he’s jealous for him to get that he’s letting a few too many little comments or touches slide. But he wants you to cling to him too, so while I don’t think he’d go out of his way to make you jealous necessarily, he doesn’t hate it if you are. 

Minghao

When he’s jealous: ooo another passive aggressive one. After about the fifth snippy comment, you’re pulling him off to the side to ask what his deal is. “That person is my deal. They’re coming on to you.” No matter whether you realized it or not, if you say something like “so? I want you, not them,” he’ll just do a little ‘oh’ and let it go. 

When you’re jealous: I’ll be honest, I think he’d be able to read the other person’s intentions and will never let it progress to something that could make you jealous if he can help it. But sometimes he can’t help it because it’s work related and he has to be friendly in front of cameras etc., so he’ll be quick to remind you of the same thing you tell him - that he wants you, not them.

Seungkwan

When he’s jealous: so damn snarky. This person will know that Seungkwan doesn’t like them. You’ll know Seungkwan doesn’t like them. Everyone will know Seungkwan doesn’t like them. You or someone else might have to even tell him to lay off a bit. That snark might be directed at you too, and you’ll have to wait until he’s ready to really talk about it before you understand the issue. 

When you’re jealous: another one that the friendliness will get the best of him some times. He’s such a social butterfly, and to some extent you might have to accept it. Still, he doesn’t want to make you feel insecure about the relationship, so whether you’re around or not, he’s talking fondly of you to let others know he’s happily taken. 

Vernon

When he’s jealous: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he’s not that aloof!!! Totally recognizes when someone’s coming on to you, but I don’t think it’s in his nature to act jealously. He sits back and watches, will maybe be a little uncomfortable, but you genuinely may never know that he feels that way. Feels better quite literally as soon as your attention is on him again. That’s actually all the reassurance he needs. 

When you’re jealous: now I have to admit…. This might be where he’s a tiny bit aloof. May not recognize that someone’s hitting on him, like, ever. At least not until someone else mentions it. This might be tough at first, because he wants to recognize when this is happening to put a stop to it for you, but usually doesn’t realize until it’s far too late. Eventually, he’ll realize he can just casually mention you at the top of the conversation to imply he’s taken. He might even let himself look a little lovesick too for good measure. 

Chan

When he’s jealous: retreats into himself and sulks. When you find him later, he might say something snarky like “where’s your friend?” Please shrug and say I don’t know so he can breathe for a minute about the fact that you don’t seem to care about that person. Might need extra reassurance here and there to feel secure about situations like this because, like I’ve said for others, he wants to know your his as much as he’s yours. 

When you’re jealous: another one that’s sometimes too friendly for their own good. But he’s perceptive about it and when he realizes how you might take it, particularly if you’re showing signs of being jealous, he’s quick to abandon this person and smother you with affection until you get it. I mean, squishing your cheeks, kissing you, and loudly telling you he loves you and only you, regardless of how public the setting might be. Will lay it on thick because he doesn’t want you to have any doubts.

[evertidings]

— OCTOBER 2024.

accomplishments.

ahh i can’t believe it’s november (almost typed october there, great going me). it’s so wild to think we’re almost at the new year. i say that every time holiday season rolls around, but i genuinely feel it every year. so so crazy.

onto actual writing stuff: i hope you all enjoyed chapter eleven!! it’s been a month since it was released and i got such great reception from it, so thank you for reading and for saying such wonderful things to me. i spent the first bit of this month taking a break from writing (and recovering from the mental toll chapter eleven took on me), but i’m back at it now and i’m pleased to say that chapter twelve is in the works.

i'm currently writing one of two big branches in the book featuring, you guessed it, the ros. i know i've said this a lot lately, but we are truly very close to the romance lock and i want to make sure you have ample one-on-one time with the ro(s) of your choice before that happens. it's mostly for development reasons, but it definitely doesn't hurt that you get more time with your faves, right? thank me later.

to give you a little glimpse of chapter twelve, i'll vaguely say that Eliana's meeting will be a doozy. she's on a completely different level from Mirai and i already know i'm going to have so much fun writing that scene. i have plans to add tons of details and flavour text, and while it'll probably be more complicated than it needs to be (causing my future self to curse me out), i think it'll be really worth it. the intricacies of this game may be tedious at times, but i also think it's what makes it flourish (and loved) so i'm more than happy to do it. plus it gets me excited so hehe.

overall, the goal for this month involves writing. tons of writing. i don't have a date for chapter twelve yet since it's much too early, but i don't want to make you all wait ten months again, so i'm working my hardest! this chapter is going to be difficult to write (really though, when do i not struggle with writing?) but i'm really excited for it. Eliana's scene will truly be one for the books.

as always, take care of yourselves <3

stats.

chapter total: 9305 words

game total: ~520,780 words

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 5, Drive me crazy

Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: This one is a doozy. I was a little stuck and I hope this makes sense. Next chapter will explain a little more about Sylus' life before moving next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

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1 pm and you're just now making your first coffee along with your breakfast/lunch. You're not used to late nights anymore. Not like you were when you were still in school and partying. Well, "partying." Aka movie night with your friends and making stupid drinking games around the movies you were watching. 

Lucky for you, it's Saturday. You've got a whole weekend left to fix your sleeping schedule. Fixing is a big word. Make it so that you've at least had seven hours of sleep before you get to work. 

While lazily reading Tara's dramatic retelling of getting Kieran into bed, you notice a notification. One that usually only pops up when Red Crow, or Sylus, posts but it's Saturday. That's not his usual schedule. Frowning, you check the notification. 

Red Crow liked your comment: "Raw, next question." 

You feel as if you've just shat out your heart. "Cocky," you think to yourself as you tap the notification. It takes you to the comments under the video from last night and that's when you notice it... Your biggest nightmare. 

You were horny on main instead of on your alt account and now he probably knows it was you. But now comes the real big question. Do you leave it there as a testament to your thirst for him, or do you delete it in hopes he hasn't noticed it was you to protect your sanity? You scroll a little through the comments and quickly notice that Sylus never likes any comments. "Shit, he definitely knows." 

Still, you decide to delete the comment. If he saw it when he was drunk yesterday, then maybe there's a chance he doesn't remember or was just fucking around on his phone. The moment the comment disappears from your screen, there's a knock at your door. You're not sure who it could be. Maybe it's Tara. Did she leave anything yesterday? Or Kieran forced by Tara to apologize? But he would go to Sylus’ house for that. 

By the time you're done wrecking you're brain, you're already opening the door and there stands the one and only Sylus. Suddenly there are no more thoughts in your brain, just the picture of Sylus in front of your door wearing grey sweatpants and a black tee that seems a size or two too small. You can see every muscle on his stomach and chest through the shirt. However, that's not even the best part. The best part is that he stretches and moves one hand behind his neck, making his tee rise up and showing the little happy trail that you've salivated over more times than you'd like to admit. 

'Hey, sorry to bother you but I'm out of coffee.' 

'Go to the store,' you grumble and try to close the door again but he pushes against it. 

'Let me try that again,' he says, a playful but subtle grin on his lips, 'I'd like get to know you better over coffee. Preferably at your place.' It seems getting your brain fried is a regular occurrence when Sylus is around and you are suddenly awfully aware of how you look. 

Yes, you showered this morning, but you aren't exactly dressed. You threw on a shirt and a big sweater over top with some absurdly stupid miffy pajama shorts. Your words get stuck in your throat and you only seem to be able to mutter out a weak: 'Why?' 

He chuckles in response, the sound rumbling through his chest. 'You intrigue me. I'm curious what's going on in that pretty little head of yours.' 

"He called me pretty," is the only thought that sticks and you want to hit yourself over the head for only picking up that part, but you remind yourself of the video he had made after meeting you. He must have ulterior motive. 'Nothing else?' A sly smirk appears on his face, like he had been banking on you asking a question like that. Like he had been practicing his response, and it comes out sticky as honey. 

'Only with your willing participation.' You try to keep your bratty attitude but it's hard when he is so damn beautiful and so damn close and so damn hot. Goddamn! 

'In your dreams, big boy,' you sass, 'come in before I change my mind.' 

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There's a tense sort of feeling as you both sit on your couch with coffee in your hands. He keeps watching your movements, almost as if he's studying you or stalking his prey. It makes you feel on edge and at the same time, insanely turned on. To push him off balance, you decide to ask a question that had been hanging in your head for a while now. 

'How'd you get into it?' 

'It?' He's teasing. His lip quirks up into a smirk again. He wants to hear you say it, hear you say what he does, wants to watch your reaction to it. You feel strangely alien in your own space. 

'Porn.' You try to keep a straight face, but you can feel your ears heat up the slightest bit, and he fucking notices. You can tell he fucking notices. He's noticed everything so far. It's so fucking hot and so fucking annoying at the same time. You can only imagine how attentive he would be as a partner. 

'I was doing voice acting for a while and got hired for some smut books,' he explains like it's the most normal thing in the world, like it's the same as any office job, 'and I liked reading those books and the reaction people had to my voice. So, I tried my hand at posting some pictures of myself to see if people liked my voice and my body. After that I kind of rolled into it.' He takes a second to study your reaction and then asks you: 'And what do you do?' 

'Interior decorating.' He nods. 

'So I should've met you before I started decorating my place.' 

'I don't work for free,' you retort. 

'Neither do I,' he says, that damn smirk on his face again, 'but your reaction was more than enough payment for that video.' You're sure you're bright red now. 

'I didn't request your services.' Why did you invite him in? Are you that desperate? He puts his mug on the coffee table and takes yours out of your hands to set it down next to his. Then he leans over you, one arm on top of the backrest of your couch, the other gripping the armrest behind you. Naturally, you lean back a little bit, tilting your head up to look at his face. He doesn't look predatory, nor dangerous. In fact, you feel like if you would say no right now, he would go home in an instant. It's strangely comforting. 

'See it as a free trial.' He is impossibly close, closer than a stranger should be. Then again, you're not really strangers, are you? You are to him, but he's been on your mind for quite some time now. He's toying with you, he seems to want you for some reason. Barely knows you but it feels so familiar, so nice. You feel desired and... sexy. 

'A free trial for what?' You absentmindedly bite your lip. A low groan slips from his lips in response, and he shifts his position on the couch. With one swift motion, his one leg is kneeling on the couch while he pushes your legs onto the couch so you're laid underneath him, your back against the cushions. His lips are next to your ear now. 

'Worship,' he growls and ever so gently takes your earlobe between his teeth. You whimper in surprise. He lets go and moves on to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to your collarbones. 'Pleasure.' The hand that was on the armrest moves to your waist, slipping under your shirt and you shiver. 'And sex.' His words sound like a promise. A promise you would offer up your life for. You feel breathless as he leans back a little bit to admire your figure. That damn smirk of his, back on his lips as he sees your lust filled eyes. He definitely knows that comment was yours. 'What do you say?' 

'You don't even know me,' you manage to mutter. 

'I know enough,' he answers and leans down to press a featherlight kiss on the corner of your lips. A strange surge of despair rushes through you and suddenly your hands are behind his neck, entangled in his grey hair, pulling him towards your lips. 'So needy,' he teases, readjusting his knee on the couch to be between your legs, 'I thought you were worried I didn't know you. You wouldn't want to take advantage of me, would you now?' 

His lips are only a breath away from yours, his eyes stare into yours intently. You tell yourself it's just sex, yet there's something soft in the way he looks at you. Something you can't quite place, because he shouldn't be looking at you like that. You've only just met him. 'What are you thinking about?' 

'Why me?' He doesn't have a quick nor sly response to that. You can tell you've caught him off guard. His eyes widen a little and his head moves away the slightest bit, but you can't tell if it's because you've just asked the dumbest question in existence or because he does not know either. 

'There's something about you,' he tells you, his tone no longer teasing but as serious as he can get, 'it's intriguing and I want to find out what it is.' 

'Because I gave you a hard on when we first met?' He cracks. His serious demeanor disappears for a second, as does the sexual tension when he sits up on his heel trying to stifle a laugh. The hand that was under your shirt is now on his face, rubbing his jaw to hide his smile. 

'You've got a dirty mouth on you, sweetie,' he comments, trying to get back into it but you've already propped yourself up on your elbows with the cheekiest of grins on your face. 

'Shouldn't you be used to those kinds of comments by now,' you say, trying to provoke him even more. Truly, you don't know what it is about him that brings your brat out but you don't hate it. It's fun. 

'They're different when you read them on a screen,' he answers, sounding almost sincere. Almost. Only if you hadn't known what he proposed so sweetly just a minute ago. 

'Maybe you take me out some time and I'll try to behave,' you offer, feeling as daring. This is all so new for you but it just flows. There's no good reason for why you feel this way and yet it's fucking exhilarating. You don't want any of it to stop, but your ovaries are running your brain right now and you can't trust them. Not when it comes to men. They've shown that to you before. You need a second to calm down before you engage in anything that could someday become regrettable to you. 

Though you probably wouldn't have minded sleeping with him right here and now. 

Sylus doesn't answer you, he just hands you his unlocked phone. You type in your number, already regretting it when you hand it back to him and see the grin on his face. You've just given him so much power to tease you. Well, you should regret it. You think you should. 

In reality you can't wait for what's to come. 

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[js-dragonart]

Seeing Ghosts Part II - Betrayal

This was a doozy, honestly. Not only did i choose so many scenes I wanted to include, I also chose the ones that caused me the most emotional damage and spent A LOT of time drawing these. Which means I also spent a lot of time staring at reference pictures of Tom Glynn-Carney's Aegon almost crying and being absolutely miserable.

This is fine.

But I'm pretty happy with the end result, especially the last illustration.

Aemond being out there, putting the "slay" in kinslayer. Have you noticed his speech boxes have turned from white to black to symbolize his "fall to the dark side"? Yes, I know he's killed Lucerys before, but this story is explicitly about his relationship to Aegon.

[xtreklx]

Low ~ Raphael x reader

One-shot: bayverse Raphael x reader Word count: 3.7k Warnings: cursing, mature themes, and slight NSFW, so this one is rated 18+ (minors DNI, see my masterlist for disclaimer) A/N: holy Toledo this one's a doozy. I've been working on it for a while, and it's def one of my favorite things I've written so far (at least, for now..). loosely based on the song Low by SZA, and lyrics are included in the text where I see fit. also I added color-coded dialogue for funsies. thank you guys for all the love on my stuff, and I hope you enjoy :)

__________

As a young, blossoming adult, your life so far has been overall steady. It staggers here and there, of course: moving in waves as life often does. But for the most part, it is everlasting mundanity. Your early twenties are supposed to be where it begins to roar; when you obtain the dizzying adrenaline and overwhelming fear of free will. Empty wallets, fleeting romances, broken hearts, anxiety, love, hurt. These emotions are meant to be felt, and life is not lived without them.

So, as life would have it, your steady mundanity was indeed set ablaze in your early twenties, when you fell in love with someone you had originally thought you hated.

Some might call that cliché. But, in actuality, not quite.

You had been friends with the mutant ninja turtles for years, ever since they saved New York City from the infamous Kraang attack of 2016. Your father was a police officer, and you had all met at the post-battle award ceremony and celebration. You and the turtles were 17 at the time, and you saw them repeatedly after that as they continued to work with the NYPD. Over time, you grew to become the friends you were now.

Well, not all of you. From your first encounter with the brawny brother in red, you discovered that he had quite the knack for pushing your buttons. While Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Donatello became some of your closest friends in the world, Raphael did everything he could to block you out. He was argumentative, temperamental, and unpredictable. You two could fight about anything: what kind of toppings to put on pizza, DC vs. Marvel, song or movie choice, even knitting patterns. The two of you were always bickering, always finding some way to make a snide comment or butt heads about something.  You couldn't stand him, and the feeling was very obviously mutual. 

On the topic of heads: flash forward five years later, when it finally came to one. You had been spending a lot more time with your turtle friends after finishing off your online degree program. While you were happy this was the case, the tension between you and Raphael seemed to be growing the more often you were around.

One day, the guys had gone out on their regularly scheduled patrol, with Raph staying behind because of a particularly nasty fight with Leo. You were waiting in the lair for them to return so that you could have your weekly movie night, but you were growing bored, and Master Splinter was nowhere to be found. Thus, you made the difficult decision to go bother Raph as he worked out in the dojo. 

When he saw you approaching his bench, he groaned through a rep, his eyes rolling back into his head. "What do ya want, shortstack?" He grumbled as he continued to bench press his barbell, the veins in his big, green arms flaring with each movement. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed. "Save it, meat head. The more entertaining members of this family are gone, so I'm stuck here with you and nothing else to do. So..." You paused for a moment, watching as a scowl grew on his face while he continued his reps. "Do you want a spot.. or something?"

Raphael let out a breathy laugh as he set the barbell down back onto the stand. "Easy, tiger," He spoke as he sat up on his bench, side-eyeing you. "Even if you could lift this bar, I sure as shit ain't letting ya spot me. You'd purposefully drop it on my head before I could even bat my eyes at ya."

Your arms uncrossed and your hands went to your hips as you took a step closer to the red-masked brute. "Pssh, like I'd ever let you bat your eyes at me. I'd gouge out my own eyeballs before that could happen."

He scoffed up at you as he began to unwrap the bandages on his hands, which had been protecting his calluses from the aggressive texture of the metal bar. "Gee, yer a real charmer, aren't ya?" he questioned sarcastically, slightly under his breath. "Must be why you gotta line of men falling at your feet. Someone's gotta tame the tiger."

The dig at your love life (or rather, lack of one) made your face heat up, and you clenched your fists at your sides, taking another step closer to the brute. After all these years of bickering and insults, you were finally nearing your limit. "God, I try to be civil with you for one single day and you're a total asshole for no reason. What's your damage, Raph?"

Raphael whipped his head to you, the bandages he had just finished unwrapping long forgotten as he tossed them to the floor. He stood up from his bench as he spoke, taking a step towards you. "Ain't that easy. Yer my damage, sweetheart. Always have been, always will be."

"Oh, yeah?" You two stood not even a foot apart, and you were glaring up at him with the most intimidating look you could muster. "And just what exactly is your problem with me?" You could feel your heart rate increasing from the growing tension in the room. The air surrounding you felt like it had been injected with adrenaline, and you felt your temperature rising by the second. "Another easy one," Raph growled, looming over you. "You annoy the shit outta me, and ya never know when to shut yer goddamn mouth."

Your rage was increasing by the second, and by the fumes you felt radiating off of his mutant green form, you could say the same for the turtle in red. You were practically pressed against each other, him with a scowl on his face and you with a fire in your eyes. Your chest puffed up, and the words were out of your mouth before you could have a second thought.

"I bet you'd like to make me, wouldn't ya?"

It was silent after that. After quickly thinking it over, you almost gasped aloud at the implications of your words. The eye contact changed from a heated stare battle to his hazel eyes dominating, searching yours. You had been feeling very confident up until this moment, but that sentence alone caused the confidence to wither away, confusion at yourself taking its place. What the fuck did I just say?

Raphael's snarl had changed into a look of surprise. Confusion. And then back to anger.

With a frustrated grunt, he grabbed your waist and smashed his lips to yours. 

And that was the kerosene to the match that set your young adult life ablaze. 

The kiss was all burning rage, gory passion. It was tongues brushing and teeth clashing and a harsh grip on your waist and an even harsher grip on the tough, scaled skin of his shoulders. It was embers and flames and then the roar of a forest fire.  

You couldn't help the sounds that the kiss drew from deep within your chest. You didn't know how or why, but your soft lips fit oh so perfectly against his rough, scarred ones. Your mouths moved together in a harmonious rhythm despite the chaos, even as he gripped you by your thighs and carried you to his bedroom, as if you had practiced this a hundred times before. It felt like second nature to kiss Raphael, even though this was your first time doing so.

And you hated that you felt that way. 

What followed could, in no universe, be described as love-making. It was desperate and reckless ecstasy, a steaming release of the fury and tension you had been feeling towards one another for all these years. It could be seen in the way your nails clawed at his tough skin, in the way he pounded himself in and out of you, in the way your needy moans synchronized with his low grunts, in the way you clenched ever so tightly around him as he filled you with himself; it was aggressive, rough, almost mean.

You and Raph stilled for a moment after it was all over, breathing heavily and not saying a word, when you suddenly heard commotion coming from the living room. You made eye contact quickly, eyes widened, before scrambling to get dressed and cleaned up. You scurried out of his room and into the hallway, making it look to the returning brothers like you had been merely using the bathroom. And neither one of you spoke of it.

If you see me out in public, you don't know me, keep it silent In the bedroom, I be screamin', but outside, I keep it quiet Keep it on lowski, I'm the lowest of the lowest Wanna see if you can keep it like nobody know shit

The months that followed held similar tales of hidden passion. You and Raph never outright discussed what was transpiring, but assumed the unspoken rule of not mentioning it to his brothers. You continued to hang out with them when you could; on movie nights, you told them that you liked to wait in the lair for them to return from patrol so that you could eat all the popcorn without them. If Raphael stayed back from patrol, you snuck into his room or the dojo with a sarcastic remark and a smug look to annoy him to the point of 'teaching you a lesson'. If one of you was feeling particularly desperate to let off some steam, he would sneak out to your apartment on their nights off, telling his brothers that he was going to go get some air to 'clear his mind'. No matter what time he called or texted, you answered. It was almost like an addiction; you couldn't get enough of each other, and you couldn't deny how the other was able to satisfy you perfectly. 

You know how to reach me every time and it plays in your mind With a rush that feels like we committin' a crime You know where you belong, I'm gon' save you a spot But we can't be outside 'cause the block is too hot And I'm all on your mind...

At first, as stubborn as you both were, you kept up your gig of hating each other, despite the passion you were displaying. Between kisses and within sexual acts, your bickering continued relentlessly. "Wow, ya didn't even wear panties today. Gettin' desperate, are we?" "By the looks of your crotch right now, I don't think I'm the desperate one, dumbass." "Ya better watch yer fuckin' mouth." "Why, Red? Can't handle the heat?" "Oh, I'm boutta show ya heat, sweetheart." 

It was a balancing act, both of you trying not to break face and show the other how much you were enjoying these rendezvous of yours. Pride is a crazy thing, however, and as the situation went on, it began to manifest itself in other ways. 

Raphael was the one to start it, about a month into the endeavor. He couldn't help himself; after a day of arguing with Leo and feeling like a disappointment, he sought you out to release his frustrations. And the way you looked writhing and whining above him (as he munched like his life depended on it) had him feeling real smug. His hazel eyes watched you as he worked, the liquid gold shining with mischief. When he came up for air, his hands still keeping busy, the pride emerged.

"Anyone else make ya feel like this, doll?" He asked, his low voice scraping your ears like gravel, a dark smirk spreading across his face. "Tell me. Can anyone else make ya feel this good?" You had rolled your eyes and scoffed in the moment, but couldn't help the moans that continued to emerge from your mouth at his actions, clenching the sheets beneath you. He saw your bratty behavior and abruptly halted his movement, holding your hips still so that you were trapped. "Answer the damn question, or I'm stoppin'." You squirmed for a moment, whining, but your need had consumed you like a demon. "No!" You yelped. "No one else makes me feel this good, Raph! No one else makes me feel like you do! Please don't stop, please!" You wouldn't have called it begging after the fact, but he most certainly did. 

After that, something shifted. Sure, your sessions were still utilized for tension release, but there was more of a possession between you two than there had been before. The two of you were hanging out more often than you ever had. The bickering lessened, and in its place was validation, need, and your names on each others' lips. The contact grew more tender, and the conversations afterwards were more joke-y and only held friendly fire.

"So... do ya wanna put on that movie you were tellin' me about the other day?" "Wow, you wanna watch a movie with me? You must reallyyyyyyy enjoy spending time with me, Red~" "To be honest, I'm not here for you, I'm just here for the take out I know yer gonna end up orderin' later." "I love this hot n cold thing we have going on here. It's really turning me on." "Yer such a fuckin' goofball."

Between the two of you grew a mutual respect, an understanding, a cooperation: a love.

You found yourself thinking of things you wanted to tell Raph about when he wasn't around, and craving his input when you sought him out for advice. You yearned for the sound of his gruff voice and his blunt choice of words that always made you laugh or eased your mind. He found himself longing for the random questions you asked him or the jokes you'd regularly crack (whether they were funny or not) and the angelic sound of your laughter. Neither of you told the other about these feelings you were having, but they continued to develop on both sides.

Raphael found himself pondering these feelings one day while hitting the bag in the dojo, growing frustrated with himself. You had been in the lair hanging out with his brothers, and he continued his workout routine in the interest of being discreet, but he longed for nothing more than to hang out with you. To just be with you like his brothers were right now.

Of course, a particular brother in blue was bothering him more than normal. Leo was closer to you today than he normally was: giving you long hugs, sitting close to you on the couch, making you laugh with his idiotic jokes. Raph scoffed as he heard your laugh from the living room now, throwing an extra aggressive jab. What did Leo know, anyway? He'd bet that he could make you laugh twice as hard. He stopped, annoyed with himself for being so worked up, and stepped away to grab a towel and some water. 

As he made his way over to the mini fridge to grab a bottle, he was surprised to see you making your way over to him. Normally, on nights like these, he didn't expect anything from you besides your staged bickering until his brothers went to sleep or you went back to your apartment. You had a playful smile on your face as you approached the mini fridge, a message in your eyes that he couldn't quite make out, but goddamn he knew they were trying to say something to him.

"Hey, big guy. Leo sent me to grab some water," you looked up at him as you spoke, the smirk still on your face. And all the hope that Raph had felt in that moment dissipated, like popping a balloon. He scoffed at you, rolling his eyes before grabbing a water bottle and walking away. 

"Wait, woah. What's the matter?" He heard you ask from behind him, confused. He shook his head as he walked. "Nothin's the matter," He spoke slightly under his breath, but you could still hear him. "Why don't ya just go back to Leo? You're all over him, anyway."

He heard your footsteps as you followed him over to his bench. "Hold up, do you have a problem with me hanging out with your brother?" Raph couldn't make eye contact as he turned around to face you, so he looked down at the ground and huffed, eye ridges furrowed.  "Well, ya know me, and I don't like ta share. So if you're gonna hang out with him like that, then go ahead." 

"And just what would you be sharing?" You stood your ground a couple of feet in front of him, arms crossing at your chest and a determined glint in your eye. "Be straight with me, Raph, 'cause it's time we talked about this. What's going on between us?" He let out a grunt, shocked at your sudden confrontation, but still refusing to make eye contact. "Obviously nothin', if yer gonna go hang with Leo like that."

You inhaled, trying to maintain your patience. From the proximity you now held with the turtle in red, you knew you wouldn't get anywhere by fighting back. "Let me rephrase that. What do you want to be going on between us?" Raph moved to turn away from you, huffing again. "I don't know! Geez!" He exclaimed, before you grabbed his large bicep. He faced you, his massive form towering over your frame as you stepped close to him. He finally looked into your eyes, and saw nothing but a genuine question. No teasing, no tormenting, just a silent plead.

"Hey, talk to me, Red. It's just me." You smiled softly, begging eyes searching his liquid gold ones for something, anything, to grab onto and run with. He let you for a moment, before looking down at the ground again, growing more and more frustrated with himself. He took a deep breath, and kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke. 

"...I'm not very good with words, ya know that." He paused for a moment, making quick eye contact with you before looking back to the floor. "But I just... I like how this is goin'. How we're goin'... I like us together. I like bein' with ya, Y/N, and I just wanna do that without any of the other shit. I..." He stopped again, taking another deep breath. "I want to be with ya for real. And I'm sorry if I messed this up and that's not what ya want--" 

"I want that, too, Raph," You cut him off with a rising smile on your face, not being able to wait any longer. "That's all I've been wanting to be honest. I should have mentioned it earlier." Raph returned his eyes up to your face, shock gracing his expression. "Wait, so yer not into Leo?" He questioned, slightly caught off guard. You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove. "No dumbass, I'm into you." He watched your smile grow into a beam, silent, before a smile began to grow on his face as well. 

"God, finally," a voice exclaimed before Leo came out from behind the entrance of the dojo, walking up to the two of you. "It took you guys long enough. Even I was getting impatient." "Thanks buddy," you said to him, smiling as you guys bumped fists. Raphael watched the exchange, confused. "Wait... what?" He asked gruffly, eyes flicking between you and his brother. "You knew... about.. us?"

"Dude, we've all known for a while." Mikey shouted from the living room. Donnie walked past the entrance of the dojo and paused, a newly filled cup of coffee in his hand. "Yeah, you guys aren't exactly the most discrete," he said, before continuing his stroll back to his lab. Leo chuckled before turning back to his brother. 

"I was tired of watching you guys sneak around, so I finally confronted Y/N about it last week, and she spilled the beans on how she felt about you. Something told me you felt the same way, call it a brotherly instinct. Or maybe it was all the times you not-so-secretly snuck off to her apartment." He gave his muscly brother a playful punch to the bicep. "So pardon me for playing matchmaker a little bit."

You took a step closer to Raph, hugging yourself around one of his arms and looking up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, I mayyyyyyy have gotten impatient and recruited Leo to help me move things along. That's why we were all cuddly today. But you don't mind, right?" You jokingly pressed him, batting your eyelashes. 

He rolled his eyes at you and scoffed, removing you from his arm, but wrapped his arms around your waist instead of pushing you away. He pulled you from his side to his front, turning you to completely face him and ignoring his older brother present in the room. "Yeah, I guess it's fine or whateva," he fake-sighed, bringing you close to his plastron and leaning in toward you. You, too, leaned in, your arms reaching up to wrap around his neck. 

"Okay, at least wait until I'm out of the room to start sucking face," Leo commented, turning around and booking it out of the dojo. The two of you turned your heads to watch him leave before facing each other again, glowing smiles on your faces. 

"So... I guess I tamed the tiger, huh?" He teased gruffly, nudging his snout into your cheek. You giggled, a mischievous glint reaching your eyes. "Who said anything about tame?" You teased back, playing with the ends of his blood red mask.

"That's my girl," he murmured, before smashing his lips into yours.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 27: Take Me Back To The Beginning

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

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

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

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

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

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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

READER POV

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

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

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

Homelander is going to get what is coming to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He probably believes he does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lie.

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

"You don't know me-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

With your eyes you try to say:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you my grandma?"

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

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

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

"Payback Strikes Back Against the Celebrated Seven"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're my grandpa?" Lou sniffles.

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

It isn't.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ryan shakes his head.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But-" Ryan begins to say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Did it for you.

"What?"

Noir drops the pad to write again.

Using you.

"Who?"

Him.

"Ben?"

Noir nods frantically.

Only way.

Wow he is so much worse off than I thought.

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

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

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

Set you free.

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

Noir nods.

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

You were.

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

Not happy.

"I was happy Earving."

I am better for you.

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

I did everything for you.

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

Said I could have you.

"Who?"

Stan.

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

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

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

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

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

Could have helped you.

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

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

I love you.

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

"Did you know about Homelander?"

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

Yes.

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

Do it now.

"No." You shake your head.

But I love you. I'm here-

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

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

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

“Should have tried harder.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she's there and she's alive.

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

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

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

"How did you-" Homelander sputters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Homelander looks down at her, his eyes still glowing.

Oh shit.

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

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

“That was mean.” She states indignantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But what?”

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

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

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.” Ben mutters.

“You can say that again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the attack never comes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lou stays as she is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes sweetie?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy fucking shit.

"Um." You stutter.

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

"Dad are you okay?" Ryan asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The feeling is mutual.

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

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

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

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

"I don't think he is."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well-" Butcher begins to say.

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

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

"But how did you-" Starlight asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone ignores him.

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

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

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

"A friend?" Butcher sounds skeptical.

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

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

This is not going to go well.

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

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

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

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

He's really not helping his case.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

“We won’t disappear.”

“Why should I believe that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please let them go." Hughie asks you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The same I'm guessing."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I better get a long vacation after this.

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

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

"What does?"

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

"Believe me I know." You sigh.

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

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

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

They really aren't going to be the same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah. Seems like it."

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

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

"Thank you Grace."

"Sure. You owe me though."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

"Tired?"

"Mhmm."

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

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

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

"I'm already there Ben."

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

"I'll hold you to that Benjamin."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

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

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

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[jasmineoolongtea]

plastic palm trees ― gojo satoru

caught in a dream, it's not what it seems

contents: gojo satoru x f!reader (exes), from the reader's pov this time, nicknames (sweets), angst, hurt + no comfort, questionable coping mechanism, small moments of happiness/fluff (in the flashbacks/memories), suggestive themes for like one memory, swearing/cursing, insecurities from the reader's side, drinking/alcohol

summary: memories from during and immediately after your relationship with satoru (pt. 2 to deeply still in love)

wc: 4.7k (wow that's a doozy and sorry on my part for any errors you might spot because this is kinda not proofread)

a/n: ahhh ty guys sm for the love on deeply still in love, i was not expecting it to blow up like that but i'm just so happy that you guys also enjoy it as well !!! this is kinda a part 2 but not really since it's mainly flashbacks. there is a part 3/conclusion to this whole mini saga coming soon so watch out for it :000. art by objectgraphy on x (nsfw warning for the full pic)

It plays again in your head like a clip from a movie you've seen way too many times.

It's you and him, just the two of you and no one else, sitting in his stupid beat-up black jeep wrangler that's probably seen too much by this point that's parked in the middle of some random parking lot well past midnight by now.

Satoru always complains that something's broken for the hundredth time whenever he comes to pick you up from your dorm for another one of his late-night rendevous however despite all this complaining, you're always greeted with the sight of the same black car even though you know he has a car collection that's way too extensive for any reasonable university student to have.

You're pretty sure you've lost count of how many times you've asked to just get a new car at this point but he always refuses for some reason that's beyond you.

Nostalgia, he says as he pats the well-worn leather lining of its interior. We've been through a lot, me and this one, he'll add on, talking about the vehicle as a person rather than some inanimate object and then he'll start pouting at you like some sort of petulant child when you stare back at him unconvinced.

There's a part of you that wants to call him a 'sentimental idiot' for stuff like this but actually, habits like this only serve to further endear him to you in some weird twist of fate and you can only muster an affectionate eye roll as a response.

There's no particular reason as to why you and Satoru would drive out and just sit and be together like this. It wasn't even because of this specific parking lot as well since you two would just usually drive around until you found a parking lot that looked empty enough and just park there to bask under the canopy of the night sky above.

It was always so quiet. You liked the quiet.

Before you met Satoru, you thought this quiet was something only you could keep to yourself but he taught you that there was merit to be had in sharing the quiet with someone else. Even if that someone else might make your 'quiet' much louder than what you're typically used to.

"I like it here." You mumble softly in the sleeves of your (his) sweater. It was one of your favourites because it was soft and it smelled like him.

"You like the city?" There's an edge of suspicion in his voice like he can't believe someone could ever like this place coming from someone who's grown up in said city. To be fair, the place had its good, bad and ugly and maybe as a city native, he had become accustomed to more of the bad and ugly rather than the good.

"I mean, it's nicer from where I came from. A lot of places are nicer than the town I'm from." You laugh half-heartedly as you lean against the cold glass of the window.

Satoru goes quiet for a moment. You don't talk about your hometown that much and for good reason, in your opinion. University was one of your few chances to get out of there and you took that chance without so much of a look back or regret in your mind.

It's nice, cosy even, if you ignore the slight tingling sensation crawling up your legs when you sit in the way you like to sit for too long or the fact that you're both hanging out in an abandoned parking lot in the dead of night. Whatever this is, you think you wouldn't change it for the world if you were given the choice.

Too bad, your getaway couldn't last forever.

The words are weighing heavy on your tongue, just there on the tip as if they're ready to jump off any second but you tighten your lips in a frail attempt to stop them from spilling out. You know the words you're going to have to say will change the way that things are, no matter how much you want things to stay like this.

Satoru leans his head against the car window next to him, hitting the glass with a soft bonk that you're sure hurts but of course, he doesn't react to the collision. Instead, his attention is focused on staring at you, angling his body in a way so that he can get a better look at you, with that classic dopey smirk of his plastered on his face as he does.

A part of you hates him for being able to look so good even in the broken glow of the overhead parking lot lights that would have made anyone else look sickly under its cracked yellow hue.

Not him though, never him. He looks like an angel, you think to yourself, with the way the wisps of white hair splayed out around him illuminate into something that resembles a halo which further elevates his already ethereal features into something otherwordly.

"Shame, it can't last though." You murmur quietly to yourself, moreso of in the vein of thinking out loud rather than starting a conversation. Unfortunately for you, it seems he's heard you.

"What do you mean?" He asks, sitting a little bit straighter in the driver's seat as he looks on inquisitively.

You avoid looking back at him because you know if you could see his expression, it would only make saying goodbye harder. "I can't stay, Toru." You tell him as you gaze into the black nothingness of the night sky from inside the car. "I'll have to move back after graduation."

"What? Why?"

"The rent is crazy expensive here. The only reason I can stay here for uni is because of the student pricing and now that we're graduating, there's no way I can afford to find a place in time." You gnaw nervously at the bottom of your lip as you speak, a bad habit, you know, but it's just something you can't really kick.

You don't want it to end like this, who would? You don't want to say goodbye to the city, to your life, to him. You've had your first taste of true independence and it's being taken away from you because of stupid expensive rent prices, of all things.

A very anti-climatic way to go out if anyone were to ask you.

The car is dead silent for a few minutes. You're scared for whatever his reaction is going to be. He's going to break up with you, isn't he? You think to yourself and you hate the fact that your mind instantly jumps to the worst option but you can already feel a pit start forming at the bottom of your stomach .

The longer the silence drags the more you're convinced he's going to kick you out of the car or something worse and you can already feel yourself bracing for whatever fallout is coming your way.

"Then move in with me. I have an apartment here, a pretty good apartment if you ask me." He states, shrugging his shoulders casually as if he were simply talking about the weather instead of suggesting something as major as this.

"...What?" You reply, though your words come out more as a question as you try to comprehend what he's just asked.

A beat of silence passes the two of you. You don't move.

"I'm serious. Move in with me." You scan his face for any of the typical telltale signs that he might be pulling a prank on you and you find his face scarily devoid of any of them.

Oh, he's dead serious, you think to yourself, with the way he's looking expectantly at you.

"Satoru, do you understand what you're asking?" You ask, still in a state of disbelief at his offer.

He makes a face at you like the answer to your question is the most obvious thing in the world.

"Obviously, if I didn't why would I ask you." He remarks as he raises an eyebrow at you and before you can open your mouth to retort back, he brings a finger up to your lips to silence you. "And, it's not that strange of a request considering the fact that you're my girlfriend. Don't people in a relationship usually move in together like isn't that some big relationship milestone that they look forward to?"

"I-I mean it is but still."

"Okay, then what's the problem."

"I don't know." You sigh, mulling over his proposition in your head for a bit before turning back to him.

"Just promise me this, Toru. Promise me you won't get sick of me?" You ask him as you reach out your pinky towards him.

A pinky promise. It's childish you know but Satoru knows how much small things like this mean to you.

He reaches his hand out to you and interlocks his pinky with you but before you can pull away, he laces his other fingers with yours and brings your hands up to his lips for a soft kiss. The tips of your ears burn red at the way his lips brush your skin.

"Sweets, I could never get sick of you. Actually, I don't think I could ever get over you as long as I lived."

"You better hope that's true or I'm gonna make you eat your words." You grin cheekily at him, a smile which he reciprocates tenfold before basically pouncing over the console to wrap his arms around you. A squeal escapes you as you burst out into a fit of giggles as he peppers your face with feather-light kisses all whilst fighting off your weak attempts at pushing him off.

His arms rest against the plush leather of the passenger seat, trapping you against him, as his flurry of kisses dies down. He stops for a second, admiring the sight of you so close to him and a part of you wants to shrink from the intensity of his gaze. Unfortunately with the way that his arms are caging you in, there's nowhere to hide and you're left at his mercy.

Satoru leans closer, barely inches away from your face as he hovers right above your lips. "Oh yeah? Well, you're gonna be waiting for a long time because that's never gonna happen." His lips find their place against yours, melting into you like they were made for you and you think to yourself that this must be what home feels like.

Another memory of a happier time flashes through after that.

This time, you're lost in between the bedsheets with him, bare skin on skin as the two of you whisper sweet nothings to each other like lovers do in the dead of night when there's no one watching.

"I like it here." He mutters softly. His arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him like you're his very own lifeline, and his legs are haphazardly intertwined with yours in some mess of limbs that might be able to pass as an abstract art piece if you look at it right from a certain angle.

The blanket is resting dangerously low around his hips and you're wondering how he isn't freezing as you cling onto him as your own personal space heater in the darkness that surrounds the two of you.

It's quiet once again.

"What? Us naked in your bed?" You quip.

"You know that's not what I meant." He groans into your bare shoulder as you giggle softly to yourself, clearly pleased with your well-timed jibe.

"Sorry, I just had to take the opportunity to tease you."

You can't necessarily see him right now but you're sure he's probably lovingly rolling his eyes at you. A sigh escapes his lips and you shiver slightly from the way the blast of hot air hits your skin.

"I like it here when it's just me and you and there's no one else except us in this world." He confesses to you as his fingers begin to explore the expanses of your body as if trying to commit the way you feel under his fingertips into memory.

You bite the corner of your lip as you fight the urge to shrink under his delicate touch.

There's another jest resting on the tip of your tongue but you decide that Satoru's had enough terrorising on your behalf so you say nothing and instead quietly soak up this rare respite from the busyness of everyday life that has been afforded to you two.

"Just us, together, in this bed where we don't need to care about anything else except just that." He adds on, his voice resolute and although you don't say anything out loud, you think you agree with him.

In here, in between these four walls, you two can pretend that the entire world existed within these confines and all the two of you needed to do was to reach out and you had the world at your fingertips. At the end of the day, it was simple and something the two of you could forever return to.

You wished that things could stay simple.

Before you can linger on that moment any longer, it's gone in the blink of an eye as another memory swoops in to take its place.

The door to your shared apartment creeks open and as you crane your head towards the doorway from your spot on the sofa, you're greeted with the sight of a slightly dazed Satoru clumsily entering.

"What's up?" You ask as you shoot up from your place, quickly making your way across the apartment to check up on him as a pang of concern over his current state hits you.

At the sight of you, Satoru is suddenly drawn back into reality as he blinks owlishly for a few seconds as if attempting to reacquaint himself with his surroundings and bring his clearly distracted mind back into reality.

"I just got a call from my family's company. They're giving me the chance to head a new division they want to expand into." He replies as he runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit of his which shows that this offer is clearly weighing heavy on him. You take his hand in yours and give it a comforting squeeze in the way that he would do for you all those times before, a gesture you can tell he greatly appreciates with the way his shoulders sag with relief.

He confesses softly to you. "I don't know if I should do it."

"Why? What's holding you back?" You question, somewhat confused by his hesitation. This is a major offer and you're surprised that he isn't jumping off the walls with excitement but you're sure he must have his reasons.

"I just- The hours are going to be long and well, you know how many family is and the elders are-"

You cut him off sharply, sensing that Satoru was on his way down a lengthy ramble. "I think you should take it." He stares at you, almost slightly bewildered at your apt response. "It'll be good for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure Toru. If you don't take this opportunity, you're going to regret later down the line." You insist, sending a reassuring smile his way. Even if he can't see it now, you're sure that this going to be good for him. For the both of you.

Whatever new hurdles that might come your way from this like Satoru is convinced is going to happen, you have faith that the two of you can make it out relatively unscathed.

It's good to have faith right?

The new question was, how long can your faith carry you?

You're pacing back and forth in your shared apartment for what seems like the millionth time as you anxiously watch the seconds tick down on the clock.

"Hey, Toru. What time do you think you're going to be back?" You're trying to balance the phone between your ear and shoulder as you smooth out a napkin to the best of your ability. It's looking a little wonky, if you're going to be honest and maybe tonight of all nights wasn't really the time to find out if you were good at folding napkins into fancy shapes like they do at the restaurant but you needed tonight to go according to plan.

It had to. Tonight was an important night for both of you.

"Why, what's the occasion?" From the way he's asking, you don't think he's putting on an act of pretending not to know for the surprise. Rather, it's a genuine question on his behalf and somehow, for some reason, that feels even worse than outright disgust.

"Did you forget?" You feel your voice falter ever so slightly, another crack etching its way onto your already fragile heart. "It's our anniversary dinner."

"Shit, I'm so sorry, sweets. It totally slipped my mind with all of these meetings and stuff they're having me do." You hear an exhausted sigh ring out from the other side of the phone in between the cacophony of other voices taking up space in the background. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."

"...No, It-it's fine. We can just reschedule this stuff for another day." A breathy laugh leaves your lips in a weak attempt to try and convince him that it was truly alright and that it was just something else to brush off.

"...If you say so."

"I'm serious, Satoru. It's fine, I can just reschedule things for another day that's all." Another one to add to the evergrowing pile, a bitter voice barks from within the recesses of your mind.

Much to your chagrin, you're unfortunately becoming much more acquainted with this voice and although you haven't responded to its taunts yet, you can feel your resolve wearing away with each late night you watch the streets below for any sign of life, his life to be specific.

Worst of all, you can't say you regret this, can you? Because if you do, then it would basically be confessing that all of the pain and late nights the both of you have been sacrificing have been all for nought and that you were wrong for pushing the both of you down this path.

It needs to be worth it so that there's a reason for this pain that you're feeling when things like this become an afterthought but you're starting to wonder how many times you have to say it until it becomes real instead of just a pipe dream you had the misfortune of being caught in.

Soon, it seemed that these doubts weren't just one-sided anymore.

"This is good for us, right?" Satoru asks one night as the two of you are getting ready for bed. It's been a while since the two of you have gone to bed at the same time as your clocks fall further and further out of sync the longer you two spend out of each other's embrace. There's a strong hint of uncertainty in his voice like he's trying to convince himself as much as he's trying to convince you. "...You're happy right?"

You don't look at him in the eye. You can't. "Right, yeah. I mean, this is what we want." Your answer isn't as resolute as you hoped that it would come out but you brush past it in the hopes of making sure whatever doubts you may have bubbling underneath your surface remain there.

"You didn't answer my other question."

A nervous laugh escapes you. "What do you mean?"

"Are you happy?" You stop in your tracks for a moment as you process his question.

There were a lot of things you could have said at that time, the truth would have been a good option, but instead, you chose to swallow the difficult choice down and take the easy way out by plastering on a sickly sweet smile and lying to him through your teeth.

"Of course, I'm happy Satoru."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you're greeted with that oh-so-familiar sensation of that pit in the bottom of your stomach as the bitter voice you've tried to suppress makes its infamous return to the forefront of your mind.

Looking back at it now, maybe you should have said the truth, it would have saved you two a lot of pain in retrospect but pride is a funny thing and you're sure that Satoru was in the same position you were in at this point.

That's probably why he didn't push any further after your response, no matter how fake it probably sounded out loud. It's either that or he wanted to believe that you were actually telling the truth.

You're not sure which one is worse.

In another world, you would like to think that there's a point to your mind deciding to subject you to this trip down memory lane aside from dredging up your past pains and regrets to torture you. Maybe, in this other world, you would have a sudden life-changing revelation awaiting you at the end of the road but all you can see just nothing.

It's better this way, right? For the both of you.

You told yourself that when you sat him down and broke up with him in the total sum of a few sentences before leaving because you didn't want to truly say goodbye to him as that would make everything more real and therefore much worse. You told yourself that when you sat in the backseat of your friend's car they came to pick you up for a night out because they insisted that you needed to get out of your head sometimes. You tell yourself this when you stare into the barrel of the gun in the form of the glass of alcohol sitting in front of you.

He deserves better than being lied to on the daily and someone like you holding him back. You can't even remember the last time you actually, truly looked him in the eye for longer than a few seconds. You imagine the old you who loved to get lost in the vast expanses of his cerulean eyes that would gaze at you like you were the one who personally hung the stars in the sky.

Before, if his eyes were the great roaring ocean, you would gladly let yourself get pulled under by the tide even if it meant drowning in its depth. Now, you're scared to even dip your toes in the shoreline when the wave is nothing more than just the remnants of sea foam.

You reach over for another sip, pretending like the burning aftertaste left in its wake doesn't make you want to wince.

Maybe Satoru was onto something with his dislike of alcohol. You've learned that after a few drinks, all liquor, no matter the amount of zeros slapped onto the end of its price tag starts to taste the same by the end of the night.

There's just so much of him everywhere. In the objects, the, hell even the air. You think you might suffocate from the sheer amount of him you're surrounded by. It doesn't matter where you go, all you can see is him.

You needed to get out.

Pushing past the crowd all whilst ignoring the confused calls of your friends to your sudden switch in behaviour, you stumble your way to the bathroom and lock the door behind you as you slump down defeated next to the sink.

Truth be told, his question haunts you more than you would like to admit.

"Are you happy?"

You don't think you are. Maybe you should be, you have everything that would usually qualify for someone to answer that they are happy and you're no longer that struggling student you were a few years ago which is definitely a plus.

You tell other people that you are 'happy' when they ask, with a smile that never reaches your eyes and a grip that's probably too tight on whatever you're holding in your hands at the time but the answer never feels right, no matter how many times you say it out loud and let it roll off your tongue.

Despite what you tell yourself, perhaps the time when you were happy, truly happy, was when you were with him.

Deep down, you think that if you were given the choice between now and then, you would trade all of this for a chance to be those dumb kids sitting and making out in parking lots without a care in the world except for each other again in a heartbeat.

As you study the tiles of the wall opposite you, you think to yourself that it would be nice to stay here in this bathroom, far away from the rest of the world and far away from what feels like all your regrets personified but the logical, reasonable part of you knows that there's no way you could realistically stay here any longer before your friends start worriedly banging on the door.

Slowly, your shoulders deflate with a defeated sigh as you stand up and make your way out of whatever bar you've been dragged to as you bid your friends goodbye in a way that you hope doesn't raise any suspicions.

The air feels bitingly cold as the wind nips at your face while you stand awkwardly on the curb, waiting for a taxi as you go to both the first and last place you want to be at; your apartment. Ironically, in a cruel twist of fate, the total absence of anything relating to Satoru only makes his lack of presence only more pronounced.

If this was the universe's doing, then you had a few choice words for them to say the least.

You wrap your arms around yourself in a vain attempt to maintain some semblance of body heat as you quickly flag down the nearest car and clamber in. When you arrive back, you glance at the clock and you have to fight the urge to let out a laugh when you see that it's barely even past 10pm and you're already back at home.

Pathetic, the bitter voice in your head spits out.

You do what you do best and ignore it as you collapse into the embrace of your bed and try your bed to lull yourself to whatever empty dreamscape awaits you this time if only to get a moment away from your current reality. It doesn't last long though because you're awoken by the shrill ringing of your phone.

Should have silenced it, you curse yourself silently as you blindly reach for it. Once it's in your hands, you squint as the blinding brightness of the screen and a flicker of recognition flashes through you as you realise who's actually calling you and for some reason, against your better judgment, you pick up.

When you hang up, you don't go back to sleep. Rather, you're unable to go back to sleep as you're left staring blankly at the ceiling above you. The bed feels too big for one person and you find yourself missing the nights where you could go to sleep alone and wake up in the arms of another.

Much like when you're forced to watch a replay of all your memories, you're wondering if what you said was right. If you were to go by what you've been telling yourself since the breakup, then sure, you did the right thing. But if it is truly the right thing, then it doesn't explain this inexplicable emptiness gnawing deep within your chest or this aching feeling that sits in a place you can't quite reach but are all too aware of.

The longer you let your mind run through all the possibilities you can think of, the more often you find yourself coming back to the same conclusion. It's better this way, be damned, you think to yourself and with that, you make up your mind to set off on a mission.

Out of all of the places you could have found yourself at, this is definitely quite down low on the list and maybe this is what you deserve for trusting your feet instead of your head but you decide that at this point, you don't have much else to lose and so, you gather up the courage to say the words that you've been waiting to say for a while.

"Hi."

[vashtijoy]

This one is extremely strange, so strange that I think I must have got it wrong somehow? Here's a line from Akechi's Black Mask navigation. Yeah, you know which one this is going to be:

Here's the English audio:

Is it me, or is something a little... off, here? Look at the portrait. Doesn't he look a little... calm? Downbeat, even?

Here's another use of the same portrait. This is not a laughing statement:

Akechi has a laughing navigator portrait, of course:

it's okay goro we know you're very normal

So we've got a mismatch between the portrait and the English line. Let's have a listen to the Japanese audio:

They're a bit... different? He's not laughing, he's not gloating. Just "Huh, I guess that was a thing that happened..."

So what's going on here?

translation time

Akechi 敵1体逃走！仲間に見捨てられたようだね。 teki ittai tousou! nakama ni misuterareta you da ne This one just got betrayed by its teammate! Ha, imagine how that feels! [lit. One enemy fled! Looks like this one was abandoned by its friend, huh?] One more enemy out of the way! So this last one got dumped by its friend, huh?

Let's talk about 見捨てる misuteru—"to abandon". misuteru pops up regularly in the P5R script. It comes up when someone's being ditched, bailed on, forsaken by God—generally left behind: if your friends run out on you, you are being misuterued.

Are there any contexts where misuteru can mean betray? Sure. If you leave a friend held hostage to die, the shadow will accuse you of misuteruing them. nakama o misuteru is used consistently here, similarly to Akechi's line above—"you betrayed your friend by leaving them to die".

Here's Kawakami, at the end of her confidant, resolving to never abandon any of her students again:

Kawakami でも、これからは君のことも守るよ。教師として、絶対、見捨てたりしないから。 demo, kore kara wa kimi no koto mo mamoru yo. kyoushi toshite, zettai, misutetari shinai kara. But from now on, I'm going to protect you too. As your teacher, I will never betray you.

What does Kawakami do? She tries to help her student Takase, but in the end abandons him; she believes she betrayed him to his death. But she betrayed him by giving up on him; by abandoning him. She misuterued him.

Here's Futaba, during her apology to Joker for dumping him at the start of Maruki's reality:

Futaba てかむしろ怒るだろ!{F1 82}のこと見捨てたんだぞ!? te ka mushiro okoru daro! <given name> no koto misuteta n da zo!? Why wouldn't you be!? I betrayed you! Don't you get that!?

Under Maruki's influence, Futaba loses herself in her happy family life, and leaves Joker to handle things essentially alone. Futaba betrays Joker by abandoning him; she misuterus him.

how does akechi use misuteru?

Besides the usage above, Akechi has two other uses of misuteru in P5. One is in his deleted Mementos mission from the third semester:

Akechi 君たちのことだしこういう人間は見捨てておけないだろう? kimi-tachi no koto da shi kou iu ningen wa misutete okenai darou? Well, considering what you and your group do, I imagine you could hardly abandon him to his fate...

This doesn't mean "betray". There's no relationship between Joker and the mission target—there's no betrayal. There's just an abandoning—a refusal to help.

Akechi やっぱり馬鹿は⋯お前らだ。見捨てて行けば、よかったのに⋯ yappari baka wa... omaera da. misutete ikeba, yokatta no ni... The real fools... are you guys. You should have just abandoned me here a long time ago... [lit. the real fools... are you guys. if only you'd [just] abandoned me here...]

Now this line is a doozy. Look at that use of misuteru here; in vanilla, it was his only use of this word. Akechi has just got done explaining that being unwanted and cast aside is the thing he fears most of all. He has shaped his life around it. He's done murder for it. Everything he's become, he became, at base, because he was abandoned—because he was misuterued.

It's here, at the very end, that he turns his back on that. This unwanted child who has killed to be wanted—he looks at Joker and the Phantom Thieves on the other side of the engine room shutters, people who've proved that they value him and want him around, for himself. And he says to them—no; you're idiots; why didn't you abandon me, like everyone else has? He says to them, I won't let you die here, and I care about that more than I care about being abandoned.

Everything about Akechi is resolving at this moment. He transcends his obsession, fear and trauma. And that word misuteru is doing a ton of heavy lifting—because if Akechi can't have what he wants, then he'll reject it. He makes a free choice, for once in his life.

This moment influences him for the whole of the third semester. And when we hear him say misuteru later on, we should remember this. When black mask navigator Akechi notes the Shadow being abandoned to its fate, he isn't laughing about it; he's thinking about it. In his head, he isn't the betrayer, thinking of Joker in the interrogation room; he is the betrayed, being left behind by everyone he ever hoped would care about him. He's being left behind behind that engine room door.

This line as localised, taken in isolation, can transform your reading of Akechi's character and motives—which is why it's so important to look at the whole of canon, and not single cherrypicked lines. Step forward, "I hate you"

unhinged ranting

Lemme be clear here: this line has always pissed me off for its inconsistency. Akechi reacts against the engine room ending in the third semester, sure. Almost the first thing he does is to rub that deal they made in Joker's face. He's desperate not to be viewed as that pitiful object on the floor. He's desperate to keep up walls between himself and the others—for whatever reason.

But after 1/2, he doesn't really gloat about what he's done. He doesn't argue with Futaba's threat to him on 1/11—"if you ever betray us again, we'll make sure you regret it."; he just agrees to her terms, which he knows are well deserved. He's not walking around like "lol, I got you arrested and tried to murder y'all and there was that whole thing"; even unhinged combat Akechi doesn't do that. Except for this one line. When he suddenly reveals that, deep down, he thinks the whole thing was hilarious.

Except he didn't do that at all. If he did, I think he'd find the others tolerated him a lot less. And he's already walking a knife edge with many of them.

What was the translator's brief here? Honestly, I have no idea. Did they even have access to the original audio? Did they have time to play it? Did Atlus give them a brief to make this guy just as crazy insane as possible?—because we know they told Akechi's JP VA, Soichiro Hoshi, to underplay it.

Either way, I don't think the line as localised (and as delivered, excellently, by Robbie Daymond) corresponds to the Japanese audio. traduttore, traditore—translators are traitors. Even me

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.1 (2024/6/18)—it's 1/11, not 1/13!

v1.0 (2024/6/18)—first posted.

[bringmeanangel]

One Too Many

Pairing: Spencer Reid and Reader Tags/warning: Overwhelmed reader. small Anxiety attack. crying. feeling like a failure. Spencer Reid being the best boyfriend ever. established relationship. Synopsis: Working in theatre, filling out a bunch of applications. Having things under control falls apart when one more potential application pops up. A/N: Based off of my life and basically what happened five minutes ago. If only I had a Spencer to calm me down.

You love how much your boyfriend supports you with your art. You work in theatre and this year you told yourself that you were just going to apply to things, no matter how daunting those forms were.

Some of the forms were a bit of a doozy, but Spencer was always there to make sure that you took a break of ate something.

One festival, you saw that the deadline was that day at 9pm and you had discovered it at 3pm. You looked ay everything and thought nah. Then you decided "screw it" and in two and a half hours you sent in that application.

Sometimes your mom gives of the wrong kind of energy, almost desperation, which is why you don't tell her about these two forms your working. You don't really tell your friends even. It's more because it's a superstitious thing.

Spencer though, you tell him. He always encourages you, even if he's not totally sure how it works, he's just happy to see you happy and excited.

Today however, you had two on going applications, both deadlines were in two weeks and you were working on them little by little. Then, your mom emailed you something.

She called you and told you about this opportunity to work at a festival in your town and that you should apply. You clicked on the link and saw that the deadline was in four days.

You took a sharp breath which caught Spencer's attention. He was reading and you were at the table working.

"Are you alright?" he knew that breath. That was your anxiety.

"Yeah. My mom just sent me something that if I wanted to do it, it's do in four days" you voice was shaky.

"Do you want to do it?" you heard the concern in his voice.

"i'm not sure. I'm going to at least look at it."

You turned your attention back to your computer, Spencer kept an eye on you.

You started reading about the job. It was a festival coordinator and producer.

*Another sharp breath*

You kept reading. If you took it, you would have to be available for the festivals, which would mean that if the two festivals you really wanted to do, you might not be able to do.

Getting into the other festivals that you wanted wasn't a sure thing, but you would have to accept this job before you knew about them.

*Another sharp breath*

Spencer had put his book down when he heard the second sharp breath and watched you. The third sharp breath, he saw you tense and you looked pale.

Spencer stood up and went over to you. He wrapped his arm across your chest, so you could lean agaisnt his arm. His thumb firmly started to rub up and down the side of your neck and you burst into tears.

"Oh, angel" he soothed, his heart breaking for you.

You held onto his arm, eyes shut tight, focusing on his thumb, massaging your neck. Spencer took this to quickly read over everything.

The pay was good, but if this was your response to just looking at the job requirement, and Spencer knew you pretty well, so he knew this wasn't your thing; then he knew you shouldn't even apply.

"I'm going to close it." he murmured in your ear, waiting for you to say okay.

"Bu-but my- the other ones are a sure thing. I hav-have a good feeling, but that's dumb. This-this I" you tried to talk.

Spencer gently shushed you, his other hand coming up to stroke your hair.

"deep breath, love. Come on. In 2-3-4" he said and you did. "hold. and out 2-3-4" he soothed and you did.

He repeated that two more times, now rubbing his hand up and down your back, still having his arm wrapped around you, to keep you feeling safe.

"I told myself that I would apply to everything." you looked disappointed at yourself.

"I know, love, but it's okay to not apply to this one."

"But if I don't- and my sister finds out, she's going to tell me I'm stupid for not trying."

"Do you want to apply to this?" he asked and you shook your head. "That's okay. You're not stupid for not doing it. You're applying to two more things, that they don't know about. You've done so much this month and it's only January."

"I guess." you said letting go of his arm and wiping your tears.

"You should be so proud of yourself. You have two applications that you're really looking forward too. So focus on those." you nodded.

"I'm going to close it and then you don't ever have to think about it."

You nodded and Spencer closed the tab. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he cradled your head with one hand and rubbed your back with the other.

"Come on, angel, lets go lay down for a bit."

You nodded and let him lead you to your shared bedroom.

[gotstabbedbyapen]

I drank too much coffe in the evening and now I'm struggling to get some sleep. So have my 1 AM Hyapollo Half-Dead AU (or Zombie AU, which ever you prefer)

Basically Hyacinthus was ressurected from the dead through dark magic or a one-in-a-lifetime glitch in the life-death cycle. He is a bit off and doozy from the sudden shift but still obtains most of his personality. However, due to being a disrespectful defiant to the natural order (I imagine Persephone often call him as such), Hyacinthus cannot eat human food like before or feast on ambrosia like the gods.

So to keep his lover alive and not hungry while not endangering others, Apollo lets Hyacinthus drink his ichor and eat some of his flesh. Yeah, allowing your lover to sustain on your own godly blood if their love language, don't judge.

Apollo is a full god so ichor loss isn't a problem to him. It might hurt when he got bitten, but Apollo is willing to do anything for his defiant-to-the-natural-order Hyacinthus. Anything to keep him well fed and happy.

Edit: I'm gonna re-name this to Theophagy AU. The new one sounds fancier :>

[asrielarchive]

Okay speaking of scars and reader insert headcanons um. I'm making this a general ask so that I don't show bias but also because maybe there are other enjoyers who are too shy to ask so I'm going to see if I can get that ball rolling but ALSO no pressure to do this or answer at all, and i know you're working on other things so please take your time and don't feel pressured okay onto the question so-

Ahem. Uh. Daemos reactions to having their scars admired and potentially touched/kissed maybe if they're comfortable with that? And also if you're comfortable with writing that no pressure though-

Of course <3 Let me write those up for you!

Asch 🔥

Asch doesn’t understand, and finds it stupid, but begrudgingly lets you, because a caress means you love him, right? He’d probably mumble something about how he would’ve totally defeated Rhal if he wasn’t older and had authority. After a minute, he quietly murmurs a “Thank you..”

Rhys 🌊

“Well.. I uh.. I wasn’t the best at magic yet, I’m not sure why you’d care for my mistakes so much.”

Rhys would explain the ins and outs of every scar, but despite his rambling, he’s just trying to hide how enamored he is with you. Humans truly will find beauty in everything, won’t they? He’s embarrassed, and a bit guilty for how little he initially thought of you, but he truly finds it amazing.

Pierce 🩵

“…Yes.”

He would slip off his drape, and miiggght slightly lean towards you as you kissed him. Caressing injuries is a strange tradition, but a part of him can’t help but want it. Somehow it took away from the pain of when it happened to him.

“You are kind.”

Afterwards, whenever he notices you harmed in the slightest way you KNOW he’s running up to kiss you lightly, to help in whatever way he could.

Noi ���

“Really?!? You- you think so?”

Noi is blushing and stammering like crazy, everytime asking you if you really mean it. He gives you a caress back, because he’s happy to be included. You two would probably end up asleep in a pile soon afterwards.

Leif 🌿

“Hah, yeah, that one was a doozy.”

Leif would brag about his scars, I have no doubt. He’d still be shocked about you loving them, but he loves that. You’re his favorite human, only you could see so much good in a daemos like him.