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finntheehumaneater · 4 months

Note

Hello! For the angsty-ish prompts, maybe “Didn’t you see what I did?!” and Steddie? (Or another pairing, should the mood strike you!)

Hallo!! So…I maybe saw your ask and got super fucking excited…and possibly wrote this way too fast. It turned out to be longer than I expected, and went in a totally different direction than I had planned, but…here it is!!

(I didn’t read this over, so apologies for any mistakes lmao)

angst prompt list | hurt/comfort prompt list (for people who don’t like angst :D) {more about the asks in my pinned post}

CW: some gorey description used in a metaphorical sense (blood, bones, guts, ripping skin, etc.)

Sometimes relationships weren’t meant to last—“we’re family” lost its meaning to him over time—and that made Eddie want to claw out his bones, hands shaking and blood everywhere so that he could die in peace and not have to worry about pushing anyone away again. He pushed away his mom, and then he never got the chance to get her back. He let his dad do he pushing for him, because he was so fucking tired all the time—came out of that with scars and bruises and a deep cut that ran down his chest, carved open and horrible. No one sales could see it but him. Sometimes it wasn’t there. But it still felt like it. In a way, his dad still had pieces of him that Eddie would never get back.

He pushed his uncle away at first, snapped at him and yelled and threw things, because he was a kid and he was angry, but Wayne was stubborn and just held Eddie as he kicked and screamed and sobbed. And Eddie loved Wayne. He was more of a dad to him than his real one had been. He never forced Eddie to do anything he didn’t want to, and Eddie only finished high school because he didn’t want Wayne to feel disappointed. Like Wayne would ever be disappointed in Eddie. He didn’t make Eddie talk to the neighbors or go out and do things—but Eddie did those anyway, sometimes, to just give Wayne a break.

And the trailer was nice, until they lost it in ‘86. When Eddie’s broken body made it back, more ruined than it had ever been. He had woken up in a hospital bed, wires stuck into him with needles and a blue hospital gown covering him. There was no one with him. He was alone. It’s not like he expected anyone to be there, but maybe Wayne waiting for him to wake up would have been nice. And it hadn’t been a slow kind of waking up like he had seen in movies—blinking up at the ceiling and trying to remember where you were—it had been the fast kind of waking up, like the one you would have after a nightmare. He was upright in a second, sobbing before he could even breathe in.

A nurse came in shortly after and got him to lay down for a while. He asked where his uncle was, and she told him that no one was allowed to visit. She said she was surprised that they hadn’t handcuffed him to the bed, and her voice sounded bitter, like she wouldn’t have liked it if they had.

After a few hours, she had him sit up, and she untied the back of the hospital gown, sliding the blue-and-white dotted fabric off of his shoulders to look at his chest. And Eddie couldn’t really look down all that well, so he just let his head drop as gently as he could, chin pressed to his chest. And he didn’t know why it made him cry so hard to see a line down the front, all stitched up with a thin line of blood leaking down the middle. But maybe it was because the nurse seemed to notice it. Maybe because it made him think of his dad. Maybe it was because it just made everything feel more real.

Some of the stitches were torn—probably because Eddie refused to stay still, all of his body feeling like it was itching and squirming and twisting in ways that hurt—so the nurse fixed them and then gave him a hug. He didn’t know that nurses could do that. He had been in the hospital loads of times as a kid. For when he “tripped down the stairs” or “fell out of bed” or “fell off of his bike”. He didn’t even have a bike until he moved in with Wayne. And whenever he cried, then, the nurses would just look at him like it was an inconvenience for them, and his dad would tell him to shut up so that they could finish up and get out of there. He was eight. That wasn’t fair.

After a little while, Wayne was allowed to come in. And he didn’t say anything at first. Just sat next to Eddie and held his hand while Eddie bit the inside of his cheek until it bled. He didn’t want to cry anymore, but he knew he was going to.

Wayne couldn’t stay forever, because he still had to work. The government hush-money was fine, but they needed that to afford the apartment Wayne had found just outside of Hawkins, so everything else came from his job. When Wayne couldn’t be there, Eddie was alone.

Until Steve Harrington started showing up. Honestly, it was a miracle that the fucking armed guards outside let Steve in, seeing as they weren’t family—barely even friends—but Eddie knew why. Before Steve started showing up, Eddie would talk to the guards. It was more like yelling through the locked door to them, just trying to keep himself busy so that he didn’t break down again, like he so often did. And he’d just talk about anything and everything to them, even though he knew it pissed them off. He kind of did it because it pissed them off.

So having Steve in there with him meant that he would stop bothering the guards. And Steve was mostly quiet, but he would tell Eddie what the kids were up to, and how his neighbor—Max

Mayfield—was up to. She was a good kid, he thought. The two of them had never really introduced themselves to each other, but sometimes Wayne would have Max over for dinner when her mom would go out drinking. That was rare, though, because Ms. Mayfield mostly stayed home to drink. And there were times when Max didn’t want to be home, so Eddie would take the couch and let her sleep in his room for the night until she felt safe enough to go back home. And Ms. Mayfield wasn’t like how Eddie’s dad had been, but she scared Max in a different way. No kid should have to see their parent passed out on the couch that often.

She was in some kind of coma, according to Steve, but she was getting better. He said she opened her eyes a few times, but that didn’t really mean anything, and he knew it. Eddie tried his hardest not to cry when Steve was around, because the first time he had done it, Steve had panicked and looked uncomfortable. He knew it was because Steve had been tired and Eddie had just burst into tears suddenly when one of the IV wires tugged too hard as he moved his arm—but Eddie still felt bad.

Sometimes it happened, and he would wait until Steve was leaving the room to curl up into the bed as best as he could and just cry. And sometimes Steve would turn around and come back to sit with him, to hold his hand and just let him cry for as long as he needed, but most times Steve would leave and Eddie would be alone again.

Steve was there a lot for him when Wayne couldn’t be. And Wayne was trying his hardest, but his boss was strict and he wasn’t allowed to leave early or call in sick. Steve was there when Eddie had to try walking for the first time in three months. Steve was there when Eddie had to start doing Physical Therapy a few times a week. And Steve was there when Eddie had been discharged.

Steve took him to his house, and not to Wayne’s apartment, because Eddie wasn’t really over losing the trailer yet. He let Eddie sleep in the guest bedroom, but they ended up sleeping in the same bed when Eddie’ hobbled over to Steve’s room to lay with him after Steve woke up screaming. Eddie didn’t really have nightmares all that much, because he thought about the shit they had been through all too often, but Steve seemed to try and push those thoughts away.

Eddie woke up with Steve curled into his side, his face pressed against Eddie’s arm, one hand curled across Eddie’s chest and into his hair—over the scar down Eddie’s front that still felt like it was bleeding all the time, even though it was closed. And for a minute, Eddie felt a little safer, turning as best as he could to wrap his arms back around Steve, nose pressed into his hair as he just tried to breathe and go back to sleep.

When they woke up, Steve moved away and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, trying to pry Eddie off of him as gently as he could, because Eddie was still half-asleep and his limbs felt stiff and imoblile. He made fun of Eddie a bit for hugging him in his sleep, before he went down to make food, but Eddie didn’t mind.

He got up and tugged on one of Steve’s t-shirts that he found, before putting back sweatpants from the day before—because Steve had told him he couldn’t wear his jeans until his legs were a bit better, in case they hurt him. Eddie didn’t think that would happen, but the sweatpants were easier to move in considering how stiff his legs always felt. And if it made Steve happy, he’d do it.

He limped down the stairs, nearly slipping—which had happened before—but he caught himself on the railing and went down the straits slower until he was on flat ground and could hold onto the wall better until he got to the kitchen.

Steve had his back turned to him, looking through the refrigerator for bread to make toast, because Eddie was one of the pickiest eaters alive, and was tired of the off-brand cereal he got to eat at the hospital. Eddie struggled to pull himself up onto the counter for a moment, and when he got up there, one of the knobs from the cabinet was digging into his spine—but being up there made him feel taller than Steve, so he stayed.

Steve turned around with the bread, doing a little spin that made Eddie laugh—before Steve saw Eddie and let out a strangled scream, throwing the bread bag near him.

Eddie leaned forward and caught it, smiling to himself. “Morning.”

“Jesus Christ…” Steve breathed, sighing and running his hands down his face, his cheeks flushed as he snatched the bread back and walked over to the toaster.

“Nope. Just Eddie,” Eddie muttered, grinning, but he didn’t really feel happy. Because after this , he was going to be leaving, and then he was probably going to avoid Steve. But he might not have to, because why would Steve want to see him after this, anyways? It was just pity.

Still, Eddie couldn’t help but ask the question that had been gnawing on the back of his mind like some kind of rabid dog. He cleared his throat and looked down, feeling the tears burn in his eyes even though he hadn’t said anything yet. “Why did you let me stay?”

“Hm?” Steve hummed, and it sounded absentminded, like he wasn’t really listening as he put the bread into the toaster and pulled the switch down until it clicked.

“Steve?,” Eddie tried again, and this time Steve turned around. Eddie looked up, and fuck, Steve was looking at him with those eyes again—all concerned and pitiful. And Eddie wanted to rip himself open, peel back his skin and show Steve all of his damaged parts—all of the pieces that he didn’t show anybody else. But he didn’t. He just swallowed and asked again, “Why haven’t you left yet?”

Steve tilted his head to the side, stepping between Eddie’s knees and placing his hands on Eddie’s thighs in such a casual way that Eddie wanted to scream. “I mean…you’re in my house.”

“You know what I mean,” Eddie muttered, his face burning red as he looked away, vaguely feeling a few tears slip down his cheeks. “Don’t avoid the truth, man, I know this is all just fucking pity.”

“Eddie—“ Steve started, his voice sounding hurt as his eyebrows creased in concern, hands reaching up to touch Eddie’s face. Eddie flinched away, the knob on the cabinet pressing even harder into his spine.

“Didn’t you see what I did? With the fucking kids? Why do you think I didn’t let any of them come and see me after the charges were fucking lifted?” Eddie choked out, words biting around the broken sob that he was desperately trying to hold in, because Steve didn’t need to pity him any more than he already had. “I’m a fuck-up! Everyone leaves! And if people don’t do it on their own, I fucking push them away! I’m not—“

Steve tugged Eddie into a hug, pulling him down until his face was pressed into Steve’s shoulder. There was a hand wrapped around his waist, one in his hair.

“Stop it,” Steve whispered, his voice soft. “You’re not a fuck-up. Don’t say that.”

“I am,” Eddie muttered, his voice sounding wet and broken and childish. “I am.”

“I don’t care, then. I don’t care if you’re a fuck-up, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to help you get better. Because I care about you. Not whatever shitty things you’ve done, Eddie.” His words were quiet, but Eddie felt himself shrink back slightly, sobbing, only for Steve to pull him back again, one hand tracing over his spine in the most gentle way possible.

“You’re an idiot for caring,” Eddie whispered, his hands going limp from where they were previously gripping at Steve’s arms.

“Maybe,” Steve mused, combing his fingers through Eddie’s hair, and Eddie found himself leaning into the touch. “You can’t push me away, though. You’re stuck with me now.”

Eddie laughed wetly into Steve’s neck, shaking his head. “Fine by me.”

This kind of felt good. Like this is what he had been waiting for. Like the aching, sore feeling inside of him was being clouded over by something nicer and more soft—something loving.

It felt like the cut down his chest was finally healing. For good this time.

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plasticfangtastic · 7 months

Text

American Royalty. Ch. 9

A Homelander x F! Reader/Dadlander fanfic

A/N: so sorry for the long delay, was a bit overwhelmed irl and needed a break from writing, and this chapter its the longest on the fic and editing it was a difficult. thank you so much for reading Hope y'all like it and warning this is a long chapter fr fr-- prev. chapter here:

Tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance, child murder mention, murder mention.

Chapter Nine

Tally

A field trip to the museum of natural history was scheduled for the day and to your daughter's unsurprised annoyance– here was her father riding the school bus too…

Homelander had made a surprising decision.

This was his way to win you both, putting himself more and more present in your lives as gently as he could muster, suddenly taking special interest in her schooling, as this was important to you both– more than you had anticipated, he would have.

Joining the PTA board, not even making an immediate fuss on the injustice of not being worshiped on sight, acting maturely even if slightly jaded about not being handed the head of the table upon blessing them with his presence– but there he was helping out when asked by the other members with fundraisers and other volunteer works if possible.

He would come and watch them do their homework-- one while at work and the other at his home, coming over every night to tuck her in, for Ryan went to bed at 9 like a good kid and Helena did not turn sleepy ‘til midnight, flying to school almost everyday to make sure both children were still present, and to pick up Ryan.

Wishing he could take her too but strong enough to accept he couldn't just yet… his many enemies and detractors a source of constant concern in your mind, so even if it hurt, Homelander knew it was the safest thing he could do for now, the simplest thing to ease your worries for the time being.

Helena was more concerned about how such a busy man had enough time to spare just to stop-by to make sure his kids entered the right car, how he had time to follow the driver to make sure he took the fastest route and that his behavior was proper– poor time management skills and a small battalion of distressed assistants, she thought.

It killed him, it killed him to play a stranger towards her, wishing he could do more than wave good morning and good afternoon, finding himself being stared at by the other caregivers as he gawked at his daughter for too long while she waited for her driver or as she was dropped off by you or her driver in the morning, as you no longer let her walk to school. The girl did a better job at pretending not to know him, offering flat smiles at best while he tried to keep his expression blank.

You couldn’t deny he was trying so dearly to be there.

He found it irritating how easy it was for Helena to talk to the driver than it was to talk to her own father, embitter at the lightness in her voice. The two filling the space with discussions about growing up in the eastern bloc, about how the 60+ year old had worked as a taxi driver for over 20 years before turning to the private sector because the hours were better, about coming to the country in his late teens, fascinated about how his father had raised 2 kids then his 2 nephews after the death of his sister, about how he worked in the sanitation department until he was 80 years old– she spoke with ease to the older man, while stiff and impersonal with him, perpetually cautious around him. Homelander would’ve replaced him on the spot had he not had the itchy feeling that she would get angry at him for it.

The two could discuss work with ease at least– she was quick to unravel office politics and their thousands unspoken rules, coming to understand how Vought's hierarchy was more than just letters outside of doors, and salaries, quite easily.

Engrossed by the bizarre world of Superhero shenanigans, eager to learn what it took to manage the powered and unruly, what it really took to make a Supe, and the spoken human cost that kept the light on… it was all required reading in order to understand how the business was– these people were ultimately vapid and dangerous. A-Train was still a soft spot for her (she was okay with making exception after all everybody did the same) they discussed movie deals and product branding with more spit than it took discussing actual hero work, saving people and doing good was not even secondary to their priorities, while others in the same building discussed murders and other colorful cover-ups made by her fellow brethren over the water cooler. At first The Seven had been opposed to her presence… silently of course, to have a stranger moseying around their territory was unnerving much less a child… but once it became common knowledge that the little would-be tyrant was not a normal child they had turned far more self-conscious, but all it had taken was one look from Homelander daring them voice their discomforts for all of them to shower her with pleasantries and complements, for all of them to act as if she wasn't in the room.

Helena was quick to note how much of a fooney her father was-- faking and selling niceties with believable charm as if this was his normal behavior in their meetings, it was beyond obvious in the unsaid way everybody was fearful of his bite that he was just acting for her sake, confusing the lot, making them wonder why he did such a thing to impress a precocious stranger– Helena could see him squirming in his seat, squeezing his fists, desperate to lash out whenever The Seven irritated him.

As long as she sat in the room he denied his true nature, she took note of it… curious as to how catastrophic it would be once he reached boiling point, wanting to know if she could push his buttons even further out of morbid curiosity.

The group theorized what truly motivated his behavioral changes, some believed the online whispers of netizens, while others had a more insipid suspicions, thankful that in the long list of abilities he had did not include telepathy– regardless it was nice to not be murdered on the spot for their misdemeanors.

She thought it would’ve been easy if he just spilled the beans but at this point both yours and Homelander’s relationship status had been kept under wraps– the board and Ashley had been the only ones informed. A matter of strategic release, it seemed.

Coming headfirst and dropping the news was considered but the spectacle that came from Homelander’s reveal of Ryan had been grating and a nightmare for the company-- but as the writing team worked their magic, the revelation was woven into a dramatic narrative, feeding scraps and crumbs to the curious masses just to kept the conversation, Ryan had been kept safe from netizens during the trail days, the internet speculated without permission about Homelander's personal life and his son– but now they were invited to do so for you and by extension Helena.

It had all begun from a paparazzi scoop, a staged candid photo showing Homelander in civvie cosplay and you his blushing partner staring at each other romantically, then the money shot of you two kissing in pretend secrecy.

The public went wild with it, for years Homelander’s many relationships were a source of entertainment so this was just another thing for consumption, many tried to learn about you, the first images just grainy and purposefully angled poorly to kept your partially obscured, with each week after the original release more and more images began circulating… culminating in Homelander’s own social media account announcing his shocking engagement to a young New York chef.

It was all the news could talk about, and now Helena had to bear the public’s sudden interest.

People wanted to know all the details, to know all there was to know about you, your unmarketable story had been handled by Vought making you feel safe but that had been a nightmare on its own, but that was for later…

It would’ve been easy if she at least had Elmo to confide with, if Helena had anybody but her driver and her lab assistant to talk to.

But there she was forever in the confines of her mind, lost in books, and playing chess at school and chess-rooms.

Homelander had noted how quiet she’d become, more than usual… spying from a distance witnessing his daughter’s loneliness and unable to help– At school she was a loner, expected from a child that stood out too much, a child with poor socialization skills and her abrasive personality it wasn't surprising, spending her lunchest alone and break times in the library or the music room honing her skills instead of socializing, on the occasion she could converse with one of the older kids in her music class, bringing a smile to his face… sounding so much like a girl as the older kid taught her a piece– she wasn’t like Ryan who had come out of his shell, making a small group of buddies and acquaintances with ease but Helena hadn’t had any luck. John knew from you, that she had always been like that, with time she would find somebody, that he should be patient, for Helena was resilient… but he couldn’t bear to look at it.

And he knew just what to do.

Sven Cripple wasn’t what he expected– Just another schmuck in marketing that liked to dress in casual clothes to stand out in the office, thinking of Nigel, this man certainly seemed misplaced on the other’s side. He was lanky and tall, his pale blonde hair natural and his nose protruding… it was the tattoos and piercings that looked out of place next to that new money prude. The man gave him an ill-conceived stern look, before washing it with fake friendliness.

“How can I help you Homelander?” He said, looking as his team hurried out of the room.

“Just wanted to come down for a chat… how’s little Elmo doing? Haven’t seen him in daycare for a while.”

“We decided to take Elmo out for the time being–

“Just because my daughter is around” He cut him– that’s a bit cruel.”

“With all due respect sir… your daughter tried to kill my son,” he said with a snap.

“You mean: tried to make him better by increasing his chances of success in this industry.” Homelander tried to remain friendly– I’ve heard that Elmo's health hasn’t deteriorated in the least, and has gotten quite good with his new found powers.”

“Yes, he is doing well. Thank you for your concern, sir.” He took his laptop from the table– is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yes, bring Elmo back to daycare” Homelander dug into his belt pulling out a pamphlet from Helena’s school– "Is a great school, Elmo would surely thrive there.”

Sven dare not take the piece of paper, feeling nervous as Homelander stares down at him from beneath.

The man took a deep breath wanting nothing but to end the conversation and head back to work.

“Thank you but we like Elmo’s school and we aren’t–

“You live in Chinatown don’t you? Forsyth street, right? Lovely apartment, great price for a three bedroom in this city, decent enough to house that yappy little doodle-mix… so cute! Love your decour who doesn't love mid-century modern… and surprisingly quiet streets plus you’re near an okay school at walking distance and for that price– what a bargain! I’m so jealous” He spoke so smoothly, licking his teeth as he took a step forward– now… just between us. Man to Man… concerned father to concerned dad…” He took the man by the chin cupping his face to force him to watch him straight in the eyes– you’re going to get your store bought misborn brat, and you are going to bring him back to daycare. You’re going to enroll him into this school, and let him and Helena be best friends forever or I’m going to make you eat him. I’ll sit you down and your fucking husband and serve him to you in a platter with so much ssamjang you would lick your fingers from how delicious it was! And then I’ll kill your husband and your yappy little gay dog before you’re framed for their murders.” He says with a smile.

Sven felt his bladder almost empty as the red lights burned so hot, his eyes had turned dry and his lips chapped from the heat radiating from him.

“Now you can go and tell anybody about what I just said, and try to get me in trouble but just so you know… I’m so fast and little kids don’t run that well…. even flying ones; Or you could do as I say and we can pretend to be buddies, right champ?” He gave the man’s cheek a light tap as he turned the lights off– I think Helena and Elmo would make a great team… does he miss her? Don’t lie to me.”

“He’s been upset lately.” he whispers.

Homelander squints but it's pleased at the man’s meek demeanor.

“I know sometimes we parents have to make hard decisions but think about it… it's what you and Nigel always wanted… for him to be famous… under my wing he'll achieve more than any other Supe could, I have this grand vision and I know without him Helena won’t like it… it would benefit him regardless.”

“That's not what–

“You gave him V! Don't act so sanctimonious why else would you if it wasn’t for personal gain!? To make sure he never got a cold!? Please save it… maybe not you… maybe Nigel, but you gave him compound V for a reason. So don’t squander your investment. You are just another greedy wannabe trophy parent.” He spat on his shoe– I expect to see the kid by next week at the latest, förstått?”

Sven crumbled behind him, making music for Homelander’s ears as the man realized just who Homelander truly was, knowing full well that there was nobody in this building that he could turn to, too afraid to find out what would transpire dare he tried to run.

By next week he could barely contain his smug satisfaction as he saw the kid return– he had done something you couldn’t with such ease, whereas you try talking to Nigel, try to build a connection via apologies that the man hadn’t care for after giving him space… he had given your child his friend back.

While there was no dramatic run towards each other, there was that sweet little smile on her face as they both sat together to draw.

By next month he would join her in school… admittedly Homelander did forget that the kid was in the 2nd grade but even with the distance, they still found ways to see each other… After all, a kid sneaking out of class didn’t stand out if she looked like any other grade schooler.

It was something… it was more than he ever had… he would’ve killed to have at least one more person with him in that room, one he could actually touch… he wanted to give her everything he could but for the first time he shared some of your grief.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Helena ceased to move her fingers from the keys, instead of attending study sessions she had wandered off to one of the music rooms, the teachers well aware and unconcerned.

“Shouldn’t you be in study hall or the library?”

“I like it here.” She turns slightly to face him– you didn't answer my question.”

“I was in the area and decided to come by and say hi.”

“This isn’t your territory and that’s not allowed.” she says firmly.

“Saw that Elmo started attending school– Mr. Radmilo told me he saw you talking to a kid yesterday evening… a boy that sounded a lot like Elmo.”

Helena chortled mightily amused by his poor performance, before she could say a thing he sat by her side placing a couple fingers making a tune with his fingers, she was tempted to follow him and test if he had any skills.

“That was your doing wasn’t it? Mom wasn’t making any strides in that department… What did you do?”

“I am The Homelander and their boss… would you tell me no, if you were them?”

Helena could only imagine what he would do to strangers he didn’t care about, compared to what he had done to you… he might’ve been worse. She leaned against him playing a couple keys just to play along– it was awful to admit but she was glad, she was glad her friend was back, glad that her lunchest wouldn’t be so lonely, that at least she could sneak out to the playground and hang out with him, that she had somebody to talk to.

“Thank you… do you play?”

“Noir used to play… I would stop by his apartment and he would play for me from time to time… I was taught a couple tunes but it was never for me… I miss it… listening to him.”

“He doesn’t play anymore?”

“That’s just a guy being paid to wear his suit… kept the brand– That’s not my Noir… so anyways… I was thinking you and I can ditch school for the day and hang out before we come back to pick up, Ryan.”

Her eyes opened wide, smirking at the suggestion.

“Asking me to ditch school… that’s not a good thing to encourage…”

“Are you going to fall behind if you do?”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders pulling her closer, playing with her hair.

“Nope!” She did like the feeling of being pet, it was nice, his hands bigger than yours, feeling so small under his glove and wishing it wasn’t there at all– where are we going?”

“I wanted to show you one of my favorite places in the world.” He said with a glimmer in his eyes– I think you’ll love it!”

She nodded and pushed herself free, letting him drag her out of the school while everybody was bored in class, he tucked her firmly in his arms holding her head against his chest as he took flight.

How could anybody ever get used to this sinking feeling in the gut that comes from the rapid ascent, the way her ears close shut and the taste of blood flooded into her mouth, how did a normal human withstand this when her body was above average yet still struggled, she squeezed his body the best she could, unable to speak or breath. Her mind works fast, knowing this would be risky but she builds a small bubble, gasping as everything around her cranium suddenly feels back at home.

Inside her bubble nothing moves, the air it's still but clear, below the neck it was left to god.

Homelander looked down catching those frightened little hands clutching at him, he slowed down so quickly he made himself queasy, flying was no different from breathing or sleeping to him, he looked down hoping she hadn’t lost consciousness, his throat closing on itself as she took a second to look up shivering in his arms, he squeezed her tight and began his descent, still a couple hundred miles from his destination.

The ground felt otherworldly as he landed with a soft thud under his boot.

“Am so sorry…” He choked, his body matching hers as he collapses placing her down to check for her wounds, tears welling up making it hard to see.

“Too fast… Too fast” She muttered, trying not to cry as she watched him do the same– okay… that was mach 2?”

He nodded frantically, eyes flooding as he found nothing wrong with her organs.

“Let’s try mach 1… or turtle… do I have any organ failure? I don’t fe-fe-feel I do.” She said as she squatted on the ground making sure to feel the grass on her hands– let’s do that again.”

“Is all good… oh dear god you’re good!” He broke first.

She petted his hair, slumping on his shoulders forming a bubble around her body preventing her father from holding her further, he watched her confusedly as her body slid away from him.

“Actually go full speed I wanna test something” Shaking off her initial fright with ease– take the bubble and go full speed. I need to know something… What a great opportunity to test my abilities!” She said cheerfully– my body it’s able to withstand it to a degree… I was dizzy and I had difficulty breathing but I didn’t bleed… my ears hurt so its likely my eardrums would have bursted if I hadn’t enveloped my head but who knows when that would've happen."

“What are you on about?” He said nervousy.

“Everything is an opportunity to learn! Is okay– is not like I inherited your physiology, all I got was a hearty dose of compound V.” She rubbed her chin– wonder tho… Ryan is a carbon copy of you... there are records of powers being “inheritable” altho there isn’t much research on the matter– would love it if I could use Ryan for research later on, if possible." She mumbled to herself-- Pick me up and let’s go. I need to see if my bubble can withstand high speeds!”

Homelander had a difficult time understanding, for a moment he considered letting her know but the voice in his head told him to keep quiet just for a little longer.

He had a hard time figuring out the most comfortable way to lift the bubble, forcing her to make it smaller for ergonimic reasons, from inside she could find his fingers reshaping the surface by sheer force, a terrifying discovery.

It was no different from a carnival ride, her body flung against the wall of the bubble, the wind rippling all over the surface, pressure forcing her against one direction, but she could still move forward.

They reached the clearing outside an old farmhouse, a dusty american flag waving in the wind of the light blue and gray house, a large tree faced the front and Helena could only recognize it from an episode of Supes in America, he placed her carefully under the tree’s shadow, a wind chime coloured the wind, as she took a step out, following his lead as he entered the house forgetting he had brought her along for a second, the rustling leaves sung alongside rusted chimes, she looked at the overgrown grass and weeds lining the front yard, at last season’s dead leaves and fresh dead ones littered across the porch.

Inside everything had been covered in sheets, old cobwebs had made a home in the once cozy house, and picture frames caked in layers of dust clouding familiar faces.

Homelander headed for the living room where an old piano decorated with plane models adorned the room. She remembered the episode somewhat… expecting a retelling of factoids she could pull out from some youtube clip in an instant, a picture of an older blonde couple holding a small toddler in blue, white and red stripes, in fact they all were wearing some shade of red and blue, she noted.

Helena climbed to the piano picking the photograph as her father just followed quietly.

“Were they nice? Mine suck, lol.”

“They would’ve loved you. I’m sure of it.’ He spoke quietly– mom loved the piano too… I always wanted to hear the old thing play again.”

Helena smiled putting the photo by the dining table before it, flicking the lid open and scouring the music sheet for a decent tune, Homelander sat on the wooden table watching her hands play 'Schubert– moment musicaux No. 3', her fingers long enough to not strain her hand as she started to get to the most difficult parts of the intermediate song.

“Just like mom used to play… you must’ve gotten it from her.”

“Thank you.” Her fingers began to move to a different tempo, speeding up as she began a different concerto, Homelander picked it up watching her quizzically as her hands moved faster and faster, there was a darkness in the music– she must’ve been a virtuoso to be able to play Brahms most obnoxious pieces as a hobby!”

Her fingers smashed on the keys as the Hungarian dance sped up, missing notes and pains building all the way up her elbow– quitting all together, cursing at her fingers for being too short, cursing at her arms, wiping the sweat of her brow angrily.

She took the music sheet book flipping its cover towards Homelander to reveal the author, he should’ve known the set designers or prop makers had no care for the little things.

“What’s going on?”

Homelander swallowed a couple knots looking down away from her, he stood up.

“…follow me”

She dragged herself out of that piano as her father headed upstairs, his feet loud on the creaky floorboards, the halls just as dusty and quiet on the floors above, the fragrance of mildew and time permeated in the air, all the doors were shut except for one– the cream coloured walls adorned with frames pictures of baseball stadiums, small league baseball team flags with a tiger mascot sprinkled on the wall, and model airplanes hung from the ceiling decorated the small children bedroom. She gave a rounded look to the room, spotting the small bookcase filled with blue spines, a stack of worn down Hardy Boys’s books, and a cute wood carved rabbit.

Grimacing at the massive poster of the American declaration of independence with its tacky eagle/flag shield drawing on top, she shouldn’t criticized for her walls were mostly bare but this felt odd, decorated with books and awards she had won, her only pretty poster was a polaroid of a cat she found at a garage sale, but there was something bizarre being witness. It felt made for TV, it didn’t feel natural once the warm filter was off.

The room wasn’t as dusty as the floor below, he paused before the small collection of trophies on top of the dressers fidgeting until they were all straight, giving the room an odd look around before slumping on top of the children’s bed, a bit of dust danced on the sunlight, Homelander took the red cap off the bed post throwing it at Helena’s direction, Helena opted to sit on the small gangnam print armchair, putting the hat to humor him.

“You don’t get any whiter.” Her eyes keep staring at the poster– you always been this needlessly patriotic?”

“What? You have dissenting opinions against the government? You little anarchist.”

“This country is run by senile geriatrics and billionaire oligarchs… but above all… humans.”

He fixed the pillow as he closed his eyes with a light chuckle clinging on his lips.

“Humans… you think it shouldn’t be them?”

“Supes are a minority, humans would always lead nations no matter how many of us are around. They could use with a fresh pair of eyes, tho… not to mention you could kill a lot of those in charge and it would be a good thing.”

“Bit extreme."

“Maybe growing up in a place like this makes it difficult to understand what it's like to live on the side of those the government deems a burden.”

“I didn’t grow up in a place like this– this is all fake…” Homelander opened his eyes slowly, staring at the silver plane dangling from his roof, blowing with enough force to make it spin on its threads– they built this for TV… my room didn’t have anything… just a bed… a toilet and sink– no bathtub or shower in case I tried to kill myself or hurt myself if I showered or something! Nothing else… just bare walls… not even a window just an air vent.”

Helena cocked her head, brows touching as she heard him talk, her eyes gliding back at that stupid poster.

“You were in foster care? I’ve seen the Vought operated orphanage facilities… not exactly optimal.”

Homelander turned on the bed wanting to tell her all the things he held, but his tongue turned so heavy he dare not… not yet… would she pity him? would she think of him as pathetic? It was hard to see if she felt any form of sympathy at times– but he didn’t want that from his child, it was not a burden for her to carry, he thought.

“Something like that… I never knew my mother… she didn’t want me, I think. My father didn’t know he had me… then he tried to kill me when he meet me.” He took a deep breath, trying to make himself laugh as if it was a silly annotation in his life– Vought took care of me when I was a baby.”

“Was it a bad facility?” She didn't think it was right to ask, wondering why he was saying such heavy things with such lightness on his tone.

“I would burn the whole world before I let you or Ryan end up in a place like that.” His voice was stable but his expression betrayed him– it was lonely and awful. But I managed.”

“I’m sorry… we cannot help the nature of our birth or the nature of those who cared for us… we just have to deal with the leftovers they left us with– doesn’t need to hurt less, right?”

She paused, caught by that saddened expression forming on her father's face, at his gloves squeak under his grip. Helena fiddles with her backpack, jumping off the armchair towards him-- he looks up at the open palm holding candy, her lips trembly purse and her eyebrows fold downwards, finding her upset and nervous Homelander lifts himself on his elbow taking the werther's candy in hopes it would ease her.

“I’m sorry… sorry that happened to you.” She was struggling to talk– I knew kids who got taken by CPS… it didn’t always seem like a good thing.”

Homelander offered a sad smile that made for poor comfort.

“Is okay is all behind… I… I am just glad your mother never came back… because they would have done that to you.”

She looked confused, urging him to explain without words.

“Come ‘ere.” He fixed himself back upright, gluing himself to the wall to give her space, Helena dropped her backpack and hopped on the bed, finding it to be tight squeeze– your mother didn’t tell you just how special you and Ryan are. How much more special you two are even more than me… maybe.”

The girl gave him all the answers he needed in those big befuddled eyes.

“You and Ryan are the first natural born supes… Ryan’s mother came back when Ryan began to show powers while pregnant– so they locked her in a house like this. Ryan lived in a whole compound of fake houses and fake neighbors… a fantasy prison– and that was the “nice” place! Your mother was lucky, they would have taken you and put you in the same place they put me.”

Speaking as if nothing was loaded, Helena scrunched the blanket under her hand, wanting to argue with him, yet if this was all true… she couldn’t blame him for being maladjusted.

He looked at the nightstand and the book next to the blue plastic lamp, taking in his hands.

“You like Dr. Seuss?”

Helena shook her head.

“Never read it. Mom got me too many books growing up, maybe we never got around them… and by the time I could walk to the Library I just skipped the kids section… as pretentious as that sounds.” She followed his hand as he trapped her in between his arm and his chest, but she wasn’t scared, this was normal for parents to do, even if he was still somewhat alien to her– I don’t think I was lucky.”

“You seen what they do in the labs… they would’ve done that to you, mayhaps.” He opened the book ‘If I ran the zoo’-- When I was small I had a stutter and they would…” he paused, biting his tongue slightly as it sat uncomfortably in his mouth– I would have to read a lot of silly rhyme books. Dr. Seuss was my favorite. I always wanted to met these stupid critters but turns out they weren’t real.”

There was a fondness in the way he held this book, his thumb rubbing on the spine, pressing the worn creases, tracing marks and straightening blunt tips– the copy was well loved, scratched beyond repair at the corners, and the spine so creased some white seep from the cracks as it threatened to rip apart.

“So I was born with my powers then… I can see why they would do such a thing to Ryan.”

“I think if Becca was around… she would have preferred it if she kept him to herself in the first place, maybe make her husband think the kid was his.” He looked down at the mop of black hair, expecting to see you but finding her instead, his eyes widen hoping the kid wouldn’t have a snappy comeback or grow uncomfortable but Helena just flicked to the next page reading the short verses, admiring the drawing of an elephant cat with a little smile– you don’t mind being born with powers?”

“It’s awesome to have powers. You want me to be all sappy and act like having them makes my life worse? Does it suck sometimes– yes.” She pauses, flattening an edge that had been used to bookmark too many times– I’m different even amongst supes… but If I didn’t have powers then… I would be useless– I would make mom’s life harder. But I am great.”

Homelander felt the candy pressed tightly in his glove.

“I don’t think your mother would ever think that of you…”

“I dunno.” Her cheek rubbed on his suit, her voice so quiet as she went to the next page– sometimes… I don’t think she likes me very much… but sometimes she obviously does…”

“Helena…” His face hurt as he tried to speak but found himself unable to say another word, his jaw dislodging but his tongue sat dry in his mouth.

“I was two when my powers happened. Mom… Mom managed to get out of the shelter and we moved to a long hallway with a bed and stuff on the walls– it was super cheap and it was better... I lived there until well… I broke a wall… then it was back to the shelter and then people’s houses and grandparents… When I was five we got that apartment and by then I realized I was allergic to dogs so I didn't need to be afraid of my nose anymore… no more broken stuff…”

“Those were accidents!” his voice almost broke, a seething rage tried to burst out of him as his eyes took a new shade of red, faceless bodies lingered on his thoughts wishing to justly harm them– all of that… that wasn’t you.”

“Tell that to my grandma after I broke their staircase.” She sulked in her spot– and the wall attached to it.”

Homelander could only cuddle her, wishing he could comfort her as easily it had been with Ryan. His son had desperately needed affirmations, needed to be provided with love and understanding– but this one saw everything far too maturely for him to help, he felt.

“You can break stuff now… I’ll clean it up and I won’t get mad at you.”

“Thanks…?” That sounded grim coming out of his mouth but she wanted to hear it, as silly as it was, she nuzzled his side trying to crawl higher following his feathery fingers– By the way… why is this your favorite place? Like this is just a film set to make you look so cornbread american it hurts… I guess people knowing you’re an orphan didn’t sit well with test groups.”

“Is not. I fucking hate it… but sometimes I like to think what it would’ve been like if i grew up in a place like this. I don’t own much… I have a cabin but I don’t go there anymore… no home for me… just houses.” He flicked the page giggling at the silly drawing of weird animals– my favorite place in the whole world is right here.”

She expects him to point at anything, but he doesn’t for he’s just looking at her with sleepy eyes.

“I love you Helena. I really do.”

Her eyes blinked and blipped, as she hugged him back… with only one arm, it felt like the correct thing to do, Helena could see herself much younger, inside that small apartment while the neighbor is being loud, there she was sharing headphones with you, playing a movie on your old laptop, she hugged your torso with those short chubby arms that always felt so light to you, and her face resting on your chest, she remembered the weight of your chin and the lull of your breathing… her father was a slow breather making her sleepy.

“My favorite place in the world it’s Rolling’s Hills Asylum– I saw a ghost there once."

“Ghost aren’t real” He tried not to laugh at her beaming eyes.

“You shoot lasers out of your ass but ghosts are too far-fetched? Really?” she was genuinely offended– ridiculous.”

He had a hearty laugh regardless, he closed the book giving her head a peck, taking the moment to smell her hair, to enjoy the sound of her heartbeat and the blood coursing through her veins, hearing the current glad that it continued to run, seemingly never ending as it should be.

“Okay…Okay…” He lets her take the book off his hands, clearly miffed that he wouldn’t let her finish, he swallows– You know why I brought you here?”

“No.”

“I always wanted to know what it would be like to have a family in a home like this… having Ryan in the tower was the closest thing to that but now there’s you and your mother so I want to know if you’re okay with me moving in…? I started looking at houses but your mother is difficult… and there’s my penthouse which… I don’t know if it’s ideal.”

Helena had to fake ignorance, partially aware of what stresses you were putting yourself into. Sure neither of you had discussed this move somehow.

Your daughter straightens herself clutching the little book tight against herself, thinking of the dusty air in the room and the fake planes above her head covered in cobwebs.

“Move in with us…? I don’t think mom would like to live in the tower. I certainly wouldn’t… Is weird living where I work… great for saving on travel expenses, just… not a pleasant idea… just ‘cuz you helped me with Elmo– I’ll help you out with mom. It was sad without him around, somehow.”

Helena buried her face under the book, feeling as if she had betrayed you but she had to win him over… for you, she had to succeed, she had to do everything she could to not fuck this up.

Her heart thumped so loudly it was deafening, as she accepted her actions.

“Do you like Elmo?” Homelander turned pale, his nose tickled by a cocktail of emotional conditions.

“Huh?” She blinked thrice as her face twisted to face him– he is my friend… you’re supposed to like your friends.”

“Just as friends, right?” He tried to force an uncomfortable light laugh.

“Oh…” She blushed then frowned– I am seven!! Jesus you’re being gross, dad!!” She jumped out of the bed– Elmo is my dog.” she said loudly.

Homelander wished he didn’t hear your voice just then, he buried his face in the pillow praying that the kid didn’t understand just how grim her words were, but mostly disgusted at himself… Why he had to say that? Was he jealous of a toddler!?.

“If you want to hit me please do so.”

“How hard?” She scowled, repulsed unknowingly by her father's misplaced jealousy, she wanted to hit him regardless.

“Your hardest.” He mumbled.

“I would break the wall.”

“Go for it.” he lifted a thumb up

A hundred or so meters later, and a tree branch jammed under his arm tearing his cape, he looked up spitting grass and dirt, the sky so obnoxiously blue.

He lifted himself slightly but not all the way with a slight groan, witnessing the hole on the side of the house and the torn down tree he had taken with himself, Helena jumped out the caveat floating towards him.

“Are you hurt?”

He lifted his fist still clutching on that wrapped piece of candy as she made her way towards him, struggling to unwrap it, glad when it was freed, the smell sweet and warm but tame compared to other crimes, shoving it in his mouth, allowing the caramel to melt in his tongue, he took a deep breath.

“Oh shit did I actually hurt you!?” With a pop Helena landed near him, jumping on her knees towards him, throwing her backpack to the side as her father just stared at the sky– you aren’t bleeding. Thank god…Good.”

“I’m fine, just surprised… By the way” he sat straight, his head lolling back and his mouth sucking loudly on his treat, he looks back at her once more smiling trying to appear completely fine not wanting his daughter to get more worried, fixated on the little red in her eyes– thank you for not hesitating.”

She sniffled a little.

“You’re so weird.”

“You can’t talk either, princess… I think I know how you can help me with your mom” She moved to remove a twig off his hair which somehow had stayed mostly in place– I want to organize a playdate for you. Get her to agree.”

She nodded, twirling the twig in her hand.

Homelander had one look at the broken house, and the torn down tree whose roots rained dirt– and scorched it. The cinder brought it down, Helena watched the bonfire and the billowing dust clouds, just flinching at the sudden burst of light, but as her sight caught on what was happening, she calmed down, drawn to the sight of flames, amused at how natural and flexible his lasers were, envious that she was lacking of them, angry that she was.

“Can we go get bagels?” She sniffed the smoke– I'm hungry…”

The two tried their best to eat while being gawked at– him more amazed about how much she could fit in her mouth– albeit with some reserved revultion. One hand held an egg bagel with cannoli cream cheese, while the other put a plain one with far too much smoked salmon and bacon cream cheese in his mind.

He watched her as she rotated the flavors, disturbed by her half chews in between to mix them in her cheeks.

She lifted her hand offering a bite of the salmon monstrosity.

“Is okay, I got my own…” She frowned, staring at the barely touched toasted bagel with nothing but a sliver of lox spread, Homelander looked away, not wanting to see her chewed up sandwich, considering leaving briefly then coming back to pick her up, but she insisted– "you want me to try?”

She nodded furiously trying to swallow fast enough.

He leaned down trying to ignore the camera recording behind him, taking a small morsel that seemed to satisfy the girl.

“yummy.”He was forced to look glad as he swallowed.

She looked at his with anticipation, unsure of what to do. he relented yet again.

“Cappers suck.” she regretted her bite instantly, swallowing forcefully.

“I’ll admit– not a fan of them, either.”

He wouldn’t touch his food content to just watch her guzzle her meal and drown it with his coffee.

He looked at the clock on the store’s wall knowing it was almost time to pick up Ryan, the flight home was slower than he preferred but he hadn’t minded for Helena seemed to withstand this speed a lot better.

“Hey… not to worry or anything but… you did… you did sign me out of school, right?” her voice was filled with anxiety.

“What do you mean?”

As she looked at the high rises around her, she looked at her phone and the 54 missed calls from you.

“Did you tell mom, you were picking me up, right?” She cringed as the phone rang and her battery drained a little further– right!!?”

“No, why?”

“You might wanna park for a second, dude.”

Homelander begrudgingly agreed, putting the bubble down on top of the nearest silver roof.

“Who died?” Helena said.

“WHERE ARE YOU!!!???” your voice might’ve broken the speaker if it went up one more decibel– are you o-okay!? Helena, please tell me where are you!!? Please tell me you’re safe!!” Your voice was cracked and hoarse.

“I’m fine. wha…”

“Okay honey, baby, am going to… oh my god… I got this call from the school and there’s these cops and Ashley trying to find you, baby! Where are you!?”

“Cops…?” Homelander asked, trying to look for strange sounds in the distance.

“Please honey.”

She looked at her father while you frantically spoke to some unseen stranger, covering the mouthpiece.

“You fucking clown. You’re so going to owe me… like… you have no idea what you gonna make me do, you owe me.”

“Why are the cops involved?” he ignored her overtly aggressive tone for the moment.

“You kidnapped me!!! The Homelander’s daughter just got kidnapped of course they would call the cops!! They would call the cops for any kid who just vanishes from school you idiot!! That’s why you tell people!!”

“I need permission to pick up my own kid from school!!?”

“Yes!!” She took the phone to her ear– mom… I just ditched school. I was bored… am in” Helena looked around– Harlem.” Her voice monotone as she shot daggers at her father– I… I am sorry.”

“Helena… okay… okay am… am gonna see if I can get your father… he’s been on some mission but I… I dunno… am just so glad you’re okay, baby. I swear you’re not in trouble.” You cry and mumble towards an unseen and unheard strangers– okay baby they’re gonna track your phone and send somebody to pick you up…”

“Is not necessary. I’ll just float there…”

“Helena what’s wrong?” Your heart breaks as her voice is so cold, more performative than her usual tone.

“I’m embarrassed… I… I didn’t think… sorry. I’ll get there…” her voice is jittery, her nerves infect you as if something unseen its making her feel like this, hitting you how powerless you were as the line died mid vowel.

She hung, staring at the screen.

“Write your alibi.”

“Why… why did you do that?”

“Because you’ll get in trouble.” She said sternly– next time just text mom before you do anything… how would you feel if mom took Ryan and didn’t tell you? or the school?”

As she walked towards the ledge, she turned to face her father, whose ears had just begun to pick up on the extra bustling happening nearby, like incoming mosquitos in the room.

“I forgot to tell you… but there’s this man called William… William Butcher and he wants me dead. Your mother thought he might do something against you” He bit his lips– that’s probably why she’s so upset and why that helicopter it’s heading towards Harlem.”

He pointed to the east but her sight didn’t pick up anything abnormal.

“I want to go to Disneyland.” She put her phone back in her backpack– and we are gonna do the queues, and you’re gonna eat those disgusting turkey legs on that sweltering california heat and you'll not complain– now this is what its gonna happen you’re gonna pick me up, I’ll pretend to have some sort of depressive episode that caused me to just fuck off scaring everybody and I called you to pick me up just now… your phone was on mute and you just notice, good?”

“Is it really that bad?” He found everything an absolutely ridiculous overreaction– am your dad, you were safe.”

“Today never happened. Or we both are screwed. Trust me it's that bad.”

Arriving at the school in her father’s arms, two police officers awaited for her arrival alongside yourself, a man with a Vought badge was bickering on the phone a few meters away aswell.

“Look who I found.” Homelander was quick to sell it at the sight of palpable distress, you ran towards Helena ripping her off his hands.

Even Ryan had been brought seemingly questioned about where his sister might’ve been.

The collar of his suit never felt so tight before, as it did just then.

Arriving at the home, she was sentence to a month of house arrest– no Vought labs or any unsupervised activities, lucky to just get the one week suspension for skipping school and not worse, Homelander thankfully had smooth things out with the police who almost shouted an amber alert after seeing Vought lose their minds… which necessitated a meeting afterwards, Homelander couldn’t fault Ashley for her panic attack after hearing the news and finding him awol, he was instead glad to see her lenghts of her dedication to him.

“I think we should also go to all the theme parks.” She grumbled putting her kindle down.

The clock reading past midnight.

“Everything is an opportunity to learn, no?” Homelander enter through the glass door, making sure to keep an eye on you as you sleep poorly– hope this makes you feel better.”

He took a yellow envelope from behind his back, it was thin and had a small pink bow, Helena ripped it off his hands, staring back at him as she ripped the glued seal off, the thin paper made her frown dissipate as her eyes digested the present.

“You’re gifting me Vought Stock?” She stares at the document as her mouth drops slightly.

"I have money to spare… perks of being the top dog for over twenty years– I get money from merch and films too, y’know.”

“These are over seventeen-hundred a pop.” She looked back at her father, and suddenly the man appeared alien to her, he was a different breed indeed– are you sure? Is a lot of money”

“I barely do anything with it. I… I think by the time you’re 18 you could use the money you made from those to get yourself your own big girl seat with the shareholders.” He looks around her room, at the bare walls feeling uneasy, his eyes fixate on the picture of a stranger’s cat wearing a witch’s hat taken in what he could only guess was a dining room– still haven’t sorted the will situation, but don’t worry about money at all. Once I marry your mother it would all have been be dealt with.”

Homelander sat on her desk, leaning his behind on the wooden surface.

“We’re still going to disneyland” Homelander curses internally trying to not look like he was dying– could’ve just gotten me a squishmellow tho.”

“Do I have to eat the turkey leg…?”

“Yes.”

“Please don’t do this to me” he half-jokingly begs.

“I feel nothing.”

Pouting like a kid, he looks to the ground feeling defeated, looking around, catching your snoozes in the backdrop, you had been so stressed you virtually passed out the moment your head touched the pillow, ypu had been arguing with him about never ever putting his phone on mute again, making him do the rounds of apology about Helena’s behaviour with both Vought, the local police and the school alongside you.

Homelander had grown guilty after seeing just how concerned Ryan had become over the ordeal while watching you comfort him, while your daughter got the talk from the uniformed men and the dean.

Yet you had gone out of your way to call him before bed.

“Your mom said I could visit while you’re grounded… she said you invited me for dinner…”

“Oh it's ‘cuz I told her that she should build a room for Ryan in the empty office so you guys can stay over. You’re engaged. It's weird to live separately but… baby-steps so the kid doesn’t get stressed too much, I mean your last girlfriend was a lunatic.”

“Starlight did turn out to be a loonie.”

“I meant Stormfront…”

“I didn’t know who she was…I was just a man who–

“There’s no cameras here my brother is christ– just one look at her records in Portland, and you would’ve noticed a pattern.”

“I just thought she would get over it after she realized I don’t care… like… am better than humans, we are better than humans… Don’t know why she grouped herself with them.” He scoffed.

“How supportive of you– pretending to care about her interest for pussy… what a chad move.” she scoffed putting the present on her nightstand– Mom did warn me about boys like you.”

“How do you know what tha– and what??”

“I’m in the tenth grade. Surrounded by 16 year olds. I’ve been mentally compromised– either way mom and I are gonna go to buy furniture for his bedroom tomorrow. Thank me later.”

She moved to her bed, pushing her few plush toys to the ground.

“By the way… what’s that playdate you had in mind?” her finger hovered on top of the lamp’s switch.

“They want Phantasma and Poltergeist as the new heads of Teenage Kix for when you’re older and ready. I think that’s too small… the name its too loaded, too many fuck ups after that second gen, b.s.” He stares at her and sees a brilliant future, hearing the chanting of adoring fans screaming for his children’s attention– they want to use that platform to launch our real international program… countries have been in bidding wars for the last couple months to have the first overseas hero program… So far only Japan, France, Brazil and Singapore have successfully been approved for the program. We have a couple open slots… lots of offers from India and the UK. I want you to head that program– Ryan is great… he’ll lead this nation as their top hero but you– it would be too small for a brain like yours… I was thinking “The Watch” for a name. Catchy, no? Thought you might want to meet your future team-mates... they are a little older than you but...``

“I think I can get mom behind. Either way I should go to bed."

She said nervously.

Homelander smiled moving towards her to tuck her for the night, giving her a good night kiss as he turned the light’s off.

“Wait!”

He turned in a panic, his hand already on the door handle.

“...” She dug on her nightstand cabinet pulling out that Dr. Seuss book– we… we didn’t finish it… would you read it for me?”

Homelander had never seen the dark be so vibrant before, he sat on her bed taking the thin booklet in his hand before clearing his throat.

“I won’t do any funny voice so don’t worry.”

“Is okay if you want to…”

A smile melted into his face.

She watched his shape disappear, that night she dreamt of endless camera flashes.

As the weeks built up, Helena found herself spending more and more time with the other half of her family.

She had helped build the guest room, picking toys and wallpaper and her brother was appreciative.

Watching from a distance while next to him, no matter how much she looked at him she had little desire to interact with him on her own accord, the more she watched you try to sweeten him up, making him ziti and taking him out… the more bitter aftertaste his name left on her tongue.

Ryan was an easy child, painfully normal, nothing special if he hadn’t come pre-packed with superpowers… powers just like their father… he could fly, had laser vision, super strength and durability, and super senses… eyes just as blue, so much like their father.

So boring… just a copy, no? she kept thinking.

Where was his spark? Where was the zest?

What made him actually special and great?

All he did was be cute, play with his toys and bore her to death. Talking to him was just a chore, nothing different from speaking to the average civilian., these thoughts plagued her mind.

As they sat together at the dining table, she looked at you then at her father and wondered just how much of a nuisance this kid would be for her future… she thought of her father’s vision…“The Watch” trying to decipher what could he possibly have set up for Ryan. The Seven? Really that’s all? Just a face in a lunchbox and nothing else… how quaint, she thought.

With every bite and sauce stain on her napkin, her anxiety took all the flavor from her meal… he was a threat… she thought of the unsorted will situation, no doubt still failing to include her– stocks could open doors to financial stability in the case her father died or lost his position, or you fucked it up with him… but it wasn’t a fraction of what he would leave Ryan, of the safety net underneath him.

But above all as she thought of the large behemoth on New York city skylines waiting for her... he could not stand in her way to take the kingdom.

Kingslayer.

She could live with that… all the greats had done it… a sibling, a son, an uncle and father decapitated here and there, it be easier if she could shave his head and send it to a monastery to live as an eunuch… to kill the competition earlier on was easy that a drawn out battle killing thousands– butcher him as cleanly as she could.

Why would he miss him, anyhoo? Who would miss him? He had nothing… no mom and a finicky father, just a name that could slip thru the cracks, Helena thought.

She giggled at his joke, sat by his side as they watched a movie after dinner, shared her popcorn and said nothing when you offered your lap to let him rest, said nothing as you brushed his hair with your fingers.

Butcher… the moment ceases to play in her mind, her eyes seeing floating words cover the whole living room– a simple slip up from Homelander… William Butcher… Ryan had been Ryan Butcher once according to his file at work… who was Becca Saunders? She had only ogled the file for the briefest second… he had said it back at the house… passed him as her husband’s kid… who was this William that was so dangerous his name was comically apt. and how much did his wife dissapearance had affected him.

She would keep it in her back pocket.

So here she was on her way to a class field trip to the Smithsonian, her father and two other chaperoned the class, gawking at his recently retouched roots from her seat, more than looking out the passenger window, a girl sat on her side texting to her friends, there was a buzz in the bus as the teenagers came to realize Homelander of all people had come to chaperone their excursion, one of the moms had wasted no time trying to befriend the Supe, her social skills enviable as she chatted him up with ease… already trading baby photos, and asking him about his skincare routine complaining about how dry her skin got around this time of year, and other banalities.

The trip was everything she had expected– except for Homelander becoming an impromptu tour guide, going on a rather in-depth discussion on great American mammals, and the tragedy of the American buffalo with the tour guide.

Helena had gotten excited at the marine exhibitions which thankfully some kids found her explanation interesting, Homelander was proud to see her and two kids discuss whales. On the other end of the spectrum there was her father doing his best to contain his excitement at the sight of Theodore Roosevelt… The man had an encyclopedic knowledge of American presidents and their achievements. One would think he was staring at some invisible monitor feeding him information– regardless there was something sweet as he sat Helena next to the bronze statue of Theodore for a picture, turning the camera quickly on himself, that the other parents noticed, the chatty mom finding it beyond adorable, reminding her of her own little boy.

As the classrooms took a second to relax and have lunch, she saw no alternative but to sit next to him.

“Do you have an earpiece or something?”

“What? I can’t know stuff?” He scoffed sipping briefly on his coffee.

“Just thought your interior designer just put those president portraits in your house for the bit… like that poster in your bedroom.”

“I like history.” he mumbled, looking a tad shy to admit it, as if it was some dirty secret– am I embarrassing you?”

“No…? I’ve never seen you this excited before.” He blushed, glad that it wasn’t anything bad.

That smile would fade away as they headed to one of the final exhibitions… “American Super” a new exhibition focused on… you guessed it… Superheroes.

This was a collection of Vought’s finest, hero suits adorning the way in their glass cases, as pretty text explained the inspirations and significance of the suit’s symbolism and how it represented the ideas and personalities of their heroes, on the evolution on textile engineering and how superhero suits helped pave ways of innovation, it was decades of Vought culminating on ‘The Seven’ and some of Goldolkin’s promising students– there was something grim at the sight of his own suit inside a box.

“Where the fuck did they get the red cape from?” He mumbles, the tour guide turned to him to explain, which did not make him feel any less queasy.

“Wow… he isn’t just a massive nerd but also had to be here to show off? pathetic.”

Helena stared at the girl who had whispered towards her friends, them chortling together.

As the tour continued, the man considered briefly murdering the girl, thinking of how easy he could make it look like an accident, he knew her name and address after all– disposing of her should be easy.

His mood soured and his build-up of excitement had completely vanished, picking on every snide and mock comment from the group, spouting the same bullshit of your everyday Starlight supporter– it had been at the mention of his complicitess on those Maeve’s conspiracies where he had grown visibly irked, and unable to hide it.

“You can’t touch them.” Helena tugged on his sleeve pointing at his face– Your eyes…”

“Is okay they’re just stupid children who stare at their phones for too long.” He looked at the bust of Translucent thinking of how they got his hairline wrong– "I wouldn't have come if I knew this was on…”

“Really you didn’t want to see another 1:1 recreation of your childhood bedroom.”

“I want to go home.” He cried as they followed the tour guide, they stopped to ask about the room with excitement which he easily matched after years of selling himself so cheaply– it’s like they picked it up and just dropped it here.”

Both noted how even the carved rabbit bookend was present on this bookshelf.

As they headed for departure, Helena hurried up the stairs catching the girls behind her, she gave her father a cheeky look, pursing her lips behind her finger, flinging her arm absetmindledly as he raised a solitary eyebrow… All there was was the sound of bodies crashing and crying.

A shattered bone, and whining.

He smiled just for her.

And she smiled just for him, before running towards him pretending to have been frightened by the sound, as a crowd built itself and a teacher rushed towards the commotion.

“I think she dances or something… not with that knee anymore.” She whispered into his chest.

“Thank you.” he whispered in her ear, holding her tightly before leaving for superhero duty.

It had to add a line on the tally, no?

Taglist-- @immyowndefender @demodemo909 @fromforeigntofamiliarity @ghqstfqce

apologies for lenghts but hope y'all like it

#personal #homelander #Homelander x reader #homelander x you #the boys oc characther #homelander fanfiction #the boys fanfiction #I am ESL sorry for spelling errors #apologies for the lenght again.#i think this was like 30 pages long but i got in the flow when i wrote this 2 wks ago #also i never been to american school but i swear i heard kids dont have recess after a certain age but we do have that in australia even #for senior HS so am basing a few things on aus school practices

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delicatebluebirdruins · 8 months

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re9

i am way to fond of the opening for RE9 being Mia at a laptop typing something up we can't see because of the brightness of the screen.

Mia keeps looking around checking her surroundings after she is done she sighs with relief and then hears a hiss or a thud or a very not normal sound and grabs a gun we only just notice off the table near the laptop and screen fades to black with a claw in shot

then boom we swap to Jill looking at something on her phone (again not seeing it yet) and gameplay starts

------

we don't know it yet but Mia is inside the connections hq after getting intel they were up to something big and she spends time earning back their trust whilst funneling information to Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield. it means she doesn't see Rose as much anymore but the alternative would be the connections still being a huge danger to her and yeah Rose is powerful but she is still a child

#resident evil #jill valentine #re9 headcanon #mia winters #if re9 is not about the winters i am suing #it breaks the trilogy of the series (1-3 RC static cam; 4-6 action) which is so annoying if they do got this route #AND WHERE THE FUCK IS MIA #jill and mia would be so fun together #yes i want ethan back #ethan winters #yes i want carlos there in some capacity i swear to god #i also want a good mold colony (because i swear to god the colony in europe is not the only one in existence) and mass adoption #of evelines younger siblings (if you think mia was in any way important to the connections/ creation of evie then get off my blog)#some of these things i know they won't go for but we have the power of fanfiction soo (capcom just make some of it open ended enough for us

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dangans-ur-ronpas · 3 months

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Chapter 12

UH OH

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

trying to move away from writing toko like chunsoft and adding more to her character (she's traumatized she wants to be loved but she's going about it in the worst way) but in the end none of her actions are condoned. she's fucked up still sorry but written in a more sympathetic light i hope?

syo WILL be in this fic but i do my best to make her hand-wavy explanation ambiguous (fuck whatever canon says about 'textbook split personality' btw)

@moonlighttogami and @tokiwigiwi :)

Content warning tags: implication of stalking/blackmail, Toko-expected creepiness, use of violence, character death

< previous - from start - next >

He’s not sure how much time passes when the door opens again.

“Finally,” He huffs, not bothering to turn. “Took you long enough. Honestly, how long does it take-”

He halts, as the intruder steps into the room, and quickly clicks his handbook shut. These weren’t Makoto’s footsteps. And - he surreptitiously covers his nose - that wasn’t Makoto’s smell. But he knows whose it was.

“...Toko. What do you want.” He turns and glares at the girl who has intruded on his space. She fidgets where she stands, a thin shadow of dark purple. The smell of her has grown stronger over the past few weeks, and hangs around her like a miasma.

“M-master Byakuya…”

He feels a full-bodied shiver of disgust run over his skin. “Don’t call me that.”

She ignores him, and carries on. “A-about last night…”

Right. To be completely honest, he was hoping that he had scared her enough the night before to make her leave him alone entirely. But he’s not surprised either; if she had the nerve to blatantly try and look at his secret, it wasn’t surprising that she had the boldness to try and confront him like this.

“What about last night.” He says stiffly, and she jumps as if shocked.

“I-I know about your eyes!” She blurts at last. “A-and, I know Ch-Chihiro knows it too…I, I heard you t-talking about it i-in the b-bathhouse last night…”

He feels his lip curling, revolted. Of course she had eavesdropped; she was quickly proving to be one of the more annoying stalkers he’d ever had the displeasure of dealing with. The number of people who were aware of his condition was also rapidly increasing against his will. At this point he might as well do the same as Fujisaki and announce it out loud.

Fukawa continues in her irritating stutter. “A-and…y-your envelope…” He freezes immediately, suddenly latching on to her every word.

“What did it say?” He demands, and she flinches - shivers? - arms crossing over her torso.

“I-if I t-tell you, y-you won’t w-want anything to d-do with m-me anymore…” She mutters, seemingly to herself, and he feels another wave of revulsion roll over him.

“Out with it. I already want nothing to do with you, but if you don’t speak up now-”

What will he do? He tries to come up with a threat that can hold actual weight, but they all sound pathetic, even to himself. If only Makoto were here, he could at least get him to chase her away…how long does it take to talk to three people, anyways?

Ironically, it’s Fukawa who saves him from having to think of something. “I-I know you’re r-really mad at m-me for r-reading your secret last night,” She continues, and she’s swaying slightly, as if drunk. “U-um, I-I promise n-not to t-tell anyone! About your eyes, o-or your envelope…a-and, I’ll t-tell you mine, t-too.”

“I’m not interested.” He says flatly. “Tell me what was written in my envelope. Now.”

She shakes her head instead. “I-I know th-there’s no way for you t-to have r-read yours yet, right? S-so only I know!” The light catches on her spectacles, and it gives the illusion of two, illuminated orbs on her face. “W-which makes me m-more special than M-Makoto, or Chihiro, right?”

She sounds deranged. Her voice is pitched with desperation, and she’s breathing heavily. She takes a step closer. “I-I know all your s-secrets, and once y-you know mine…s-so you can r-rely on me, m-more than Makoto, o-or Chihiro?” Another step, and the floorboard creaks. “I-I’ll do better than th-them! And, and I can accept you f-for all your secrets, s-so, you don’t n-need them, I promise!”

“Stay back.” He snaps, shifting backwards. The revulsion was curdling, mixing with fear, and crawling down his back like something physical, like the vile, unwanted sensation of fingernails, tickling over his skin. He hates this irrational panic - she was just a girl, and a pathetic one at that - but here he was, shying away anyways, unable to discern her next move, her intentions. “I’m warning you-”

She lurches forward, and he takes an inadvertent step back. His back meets the bookshelf; he was trapped. “S-so don’t get scared,” She says, though these words really only have the opposite effect on him. “D-do you remember the news, a few y-years back? A-about Genocider S-Syo?”

Genocider Syo? The name sounds familiar, but it takes him a moment to place where he’s heard it before. It was a few years before he enrolled at Hope’s Peak, while in transit to some social gathering or another; Pennyworth had left the car radio tuned to the local news.

“The serial killer?” He asks aloud, as he subtly searches the shelves behind him, trying to find something to use as a weapon. The tip of his index finger catches on the spine of a large, plastic-bound copy of some textbook or another, and he leverages it slowly out of the shelf, feeling sweat beginning to slicken its cover.

She nods eagerly, her braids bouncing. “I-I knew you’d kn-know about it,” She sounds relieved, somehow, voice breathless. “Y-you know, th-the first place Syo turned up was the town w-where I was b-born…i-it was my f-first crush that was the f-first victim, y’know?”

It clicks together quickly for him. The radio announcer had described bloody and ugly scenes of murder, the displayed corpses of young men and boys, all attributed to a mysterious killer with a penchant for stabbing their victims. And now standing before him was a clearly-deranged, unwell girl, well-known for her romance novels, and apparently obsessed with him.

“I-it’s okay!” She says hurriedly, as he presses himself closer to the shelf. “Sh-she only c-comes out when I-I’m really t-tired, o-or if I see b-blood…b-but, I c-can control her! I am controlling her, I promise!” She steps forward again, and this close, he can see the sickly flush on her face, the shine of sweat - tears? - down her cheeks. “I’ve b-been working s-so hard, s-so she won’t h-hurt anyone again…so it’s o-okay! I c-can be good! See?” She hiccups slightly, she must be crying. He can’t imagine why. “S-so now we can be equal, r-right?!”

She staggers towards him again, and he reacts before he can even think twice about it, yanking the book from its shelf and swinging blindly. The edge catches her across the face, whipping it sharply to the side with a sickly crack and a squeal - there’s a crest of blood, splattering up the length of the book, he can feel a few warm drops splash his hand, the skin crawling where it landed - and she crashes against the shelves with a shriek, stumbling.

“Why?!” She wails, hands shooting to her face. She sounds genuinely distraught, and she shakes as she scrubs at her nose with her palms. “I-I told you m-my biggest secret, a-and I kn-know yours…w-why won’t you tr-trust me?!”

“Trust you?!” He laughs, mirthless and a little frenzied, pitched wildly with his thudding heart. “You repulse me.” He steps forward now, book still clutched in his shaking hand. “Why would I ever trust a murderer in a killing game?”

She flinches as if his words were more physical blows, stumbling away from him and knocking against the shelf. A few books rain down, thudding open on the floor. “I-It’s not me,” She babbles, clutching at her head. “S-Syo - she’s j-just s-someone else, she’s in m-me, b-but I can c-control her, I p-promise - sh-she’s not me, she’s not me, she’s not!”

It sounds vaguely like some dramatized description of a split personality, though Byakuya had never heard of any such disorder that matched Fukawa’s apparently extreme case. Whatever the girl had going on would probably warrant its own DSM volume, but he wasn’t particularly interested in that. “I don’t care if she’s a ghost that’s possessing you or a secret twin taking your place. I want nothing to do with either of you.”

“B-but-”

“Get out.” He snarls, chest heaving. “If I hear anything - anything - on my condition, I will make you wish you were dead.” She doesn’t move, and he feels his teeth clench enough to creak. “I said, OUT.”

She darts, stumbling and stepping through one of the piles of boxes on the floor, completely breaking through the lid. Whatever was inside it stays looped around her ankle as she kicks the lid off, and clicks against the floor as she sprints away, her sobs fading as she goes.

___

For safety, he blocks off the door to the library with the chair, jamming it beneath the handles.

Then, he waits for Makoto, pacing, agitated. Really, how long could it take to accompany one person to talk to three people? His clock in his handbook stated that hardly an hour had passed since Makoto first left, and ten minutes since he sent Fukawa away. Surely, he had to be coming back eventually?

Not that there was anything keeping Byakuya in the library, other than his own uncertainty regarding his safety. Considering that he knew Fukawa’s alternate identity, and her apparent infatuation with him, it would be foolish to make the trek back to his room alone.

He stops pacing, frustration and restlessness boiling over. And returns to the files, shuffling through them, handbook held aloft to read the names printed on the edge of each folder, ignoring the ones that clatter to the ground after he shoves them haphazardly back. Finally, he comes across the one he's looking for, and slides it out of the shelf.

The front of it is stamped with the title in silver: ‘The Murder Cases of Genocider Syo: Top Secret’. He flips it open.

The text is interspersed with images of the victims before and after their unfortunate encounters with Fukawa. He can’t make much out about them, other than the fact that all the murder scenes seemed similar enough; photos of pale bodies, stretched out as if crucified, splattered with blood. Their faces, which must have been twisted with agony, are merely dark smudges.

“...As with the other cases, at the scene of the crime the word ‘BLOODLUST’ was written with the victim’s blood,” Alter Ego reads aloud. “The scissors used in the murder were apparently custom-made, with every pair left at each murder scene seeming to be of the same material and construction…”

How vile. He flips through the pages (one of which is annoyingly wrinkled, and furthermore, smudged with dirt), reading through the victim's descriptions. There was a sort of morbid curiosity that drew him to read further, even as his stomach turned with the knowledge that he could end up like one of these men; pinned like a butterfly for the killer to admire and laud over.

He snaps the file shut at last, feeling nauseous, and sinks down with his back against the shelf, suddenly exhausted - the adrenaline from Fukawa’s confrontation is gone, leaving behind a bone-deep fatigue. Sluggishly, he categorizes what he knows:

One: Fukawa was also Genocider Syo, a notorious serial killer who targeted young men.

Two: Fukawa both knew he was blind, and the contents of his envelope. He reaches into his pocket and feels for it, the paper now crinkled and warped. He still can’t bring himself to try and use Alter Ego to read its contents, but so long as Fukawa knew…there was little he could do about it.

That brought him to three: Fukawa was apparently obsessed with him. That was clear from the start, but he underestimated how dangerous her infatuation was. What she wanted from him was, apparently, some kind of romanticized relationship, if her mutterings about mutually sharing secrets and calling him ‘master’ was anything to go by, but nothing that could possibly be built on equal footing. Not if she was trying to leverage the envelope’s contents and his blindness against him.

He pauses at that. Did Fukawa know he was capable of using Alter Ego through his handbook to read? If she did, then there was no point in her trying to hold it over him. But then that meant she might try to manipulate him in other ways, the most simplest being blackmail. For that, he’d need to silence her…

And to do that, I would need to kill.

He drums his fingers against the hardwood floor. It’d be hard, but he could do it. She was already fixated on him, it should be easy enough to lure her somewhere and take care of her, either with a blunt-force weapon or strangulation - stabbing was too messy with the blood splatter - but the real difficulty then was how to conceal his tracks.

He thinks for a moment of Maizono, and how she had swapped rooms with Makoto solely for this intention. He thought her foolish then, but in hindsight, it really was an impressive display of quick thinking…though, it wasn’t one that he could copy.

What if he did it in a shared space? In one of the empty classrooms? People hardly went into these rooms, and it’d be harder to pin down the culprit. But he’d have to be fast about it, and careful; anyone who sees him or Fukawa entering that space, or leaving it, could easily identify him as the suspect. It’d have to happen at night.

But, she’s also smarter than she looks… He rubs at his temples now, frowning. She might see the similarities between this and Maizono’s attempt, and realize it’s a trap. I can’t risk that. It’d be easier if I could easily pin it on someone, but the amount of people who might be stupid or willing enough to let themselves be used…

The list was very short. Makoto, who was already a non-option. Yamada, who was too closely allied with Celeste to be trusted. Hagakure, who was too paranoid to be easily led into anything anyways...

And Chihiro.

He’s suddenly struck with the realization that if he succeeds, the others die. It would not be just one person’s blood on his hands, it would be multiple, including those he chooses not to directly involve. He hesitates, for an instant - and then lowers his hands slowly, a sense of defeat settling over him.

He’s already failed before he even started. This game could only have one winner, and if he could not fully commit himself to that role and accept the consequences of it, then he was never a real competitor to begin with. Circles within circles. He was back to the start.

Frustration isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with, but it’s been a long time since he’s felt so overwhelmed with it, as he tilts his head back, knocking it against the shelf as he stares blankly at the brown fog of the ceiling. And then slams a fist against the floor, hissing venomous, ugly curses under his breath. If only he had his eyes, again - he wouldn’t need to be so concerned with such things, wouldn’t need to waver - and yet.

Where the hell is Makoto? He thinks numbly, exhausted with it all. He was sick of being left with nothing but his nerves, and how long did it take to talk to just three people anyways?

Thump, thump, thump.

A rhythmic banging snaps him out of his thoughts. For a moment, he thinks it’s coming from the door, and clumsily pushes himself up, while fumbling for something, anything, to use as a weapon - his hands find the hard, stiff cover of a case file, still on the floor - and stares down the door, waiting for someone to break through it-

But nothing. The chair that’s stuck under the doorknob hasn’t even budged, from what he can tell. The banging continues, and he realizes it sounds more like hammering than knocking. It wasn’t even against the library door.

Construction? Hagakure did mention hearing construction sounds earlier. Was Monokuma building something again?

The sound ends, replaced by footsteps approaching his door. He tenses, taking a step back, but a moment later, the footsteps patter down the hall and away, fading out of earshot.

He stays where he is for a long moment, caught between terror and curiosity. Curiosity wins out, and he steps slowly to the door, hesitating once more with one hand on the chair.

But before he can even do anything, the air is pierced by a blood-curdling scream, and he throws the chair away, yanking the door open-

Only to be met with the sight of Chihiro Fujisaki’s corpse.

< previous - from start - next >

#thpff chapters #thpff #danganronpa fanfiction #byakuya togami #hi....sorry for the delay...#in my defense i was waffling a while about posting this bc once i do it means im locked into my trial 2 case and scene etc #and im still writing the trial 2 scene WHOOPS....#also was feeling very bleh this past week. whatever im fine now #byakuya full on plotting a murder before realizing. wait a minute. i care about people now.#and then having a mild crisis about it. prince zuko style except instead of getting a fever he starts swearing in french #hitting a girl? not cool byakuya #im so sorry chihiro i love you tho #the scene were toko gets makoto to go with her to talk to byakuya doesnt happen here #and also toko has been watching byakuya hang out exclusively with makoto #and hearing the rumors that they were having a scandalous drauma-fraught romance #so she ended figuring that the best thing she could do was corner him herself. hence the gathering of blackmail material etc etc #not necessarily the most romantic thing but she sees it as creating a level playing field where he's forced to acknowledge her at all

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theasterous09 · 6 months

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OKAY SO ABOUT THAT 2-PARTER RC9GN EPISODE DREAM I HAD

This was a really long time ago, so I may or may not have some of it right, but I can still remember the most memorable parts of my dream.

EPISODE 1

So it started with me opening my TV to see what's new on the Disney channel, I don't remember what I was trying to look for, but then I saw this teaser of an RC9GN 2-parter special episodes thing and I literally screamed, no joke.

The teaser was like a countdown to the 2 episodes, so I waited for a few more minutes or smt

So anyways, the theme song started playing and I remember singing along with it, going batshit crazy

Then the song ended and the episode starts with Randy in class, bored out of his mind. The teacher (a new one, I can't remember what she looks like, but I know she's a woman) was teaching about whatever

I dont know what else happened in this episode, but skip to the part where a robot attacks and Randy is going ninja. I can't remember what it looks like, but it wasn't a robo-ape.

The Ninja is there to destroy it, yelling quips and puns, the usual

But the part I remember so much was the end of that episode, so this robot was trying to hit the Ninja, but missed, leading the robot to hit the school instead. Hard.

So the part of the building where the robot hit collapsed and there were students there just before the part of the building fell on them.

For a split-second, we can see Randy's absolute dread and tried to reach out to the kids, but he couldn't reach them on time and the bulding fell on top of them.

Absolute silence followed soon after. I can remember how shocked I was on this part, my jaw dropped because I DIDNT KNOW DISNEY WOULD ALLOW THAT

And then the episode ended. Just like that.

ANYWAY EPISODE 2 (I REMEMBER THIS EPISODE THE MOST)

So we ended with a cliffhanger on the first episode, and my mouth was still wide open.

Disney gave me a break and a commercial started

But then after that the next episode started, and there wasn't even a theme song

The episode showed the Ninja trying to reach out on the kids again, but he couldn't make it. There was a heartbeat sound effects going on in the background making it more suspenseful

Anyway, the Ninja went to dig them out of the collapsed rubble, and miraculously, the students lived

So randy asked if they were okay, and I kid you not, he sounded genuinely terrified and concerned

The students had minor bruises, while one of them had an dislocated arm, but they were alive and that was what mattered to Randy at that moment.

Randy got them out of there and he made sure they got out of harm's way before he went back to the robot

Fastforward to the aftermath of the destroyed robot, (this is probably my fav part cuz it was just so ANGSTY) Randy took off the ninjasuit in the boys' bathroom and he just sat there for a minute

The heartbeat soundtrack was back, but faster, and I can see on screen that Randy was also starting to hyperventilate as he processed what happened and what almost happened to those students

I can't remember what else happened then, but i think Howard found him or something and tried to calm him down

anyway, when randy did calm down, he took the nomicon out of his bag, with howard by his side, and asked "What would happen if I failed them? Was there ever a ninja that had to deal with what almost happened?"

The nomicon shloomped him in the book and Randy had a deep conversation with Finja (AGAIN IT SUCKS THAT I CANT REMEMBER THIS PART BECAUSE I KNOW IT WAS SP GOOD)

Randy sat on the dirt (its kind of like dirt? I mean, its a page of the nomicon but whatever) with tears streaming down his eyes. Finja is there, just, rubbing his back and comforting him because Finja knows what he's going through, he's been there and worse, he's seen his comrades fall in front of him and he knew that it was a painful feeling

Silently, randy told Finja (in my own words cuz i cant remember how he actually said it "What if those students... will an even greater chaos happen if I failed them? Can I still be a ninja if I failed to protect them?"

And finja replied with smt like "Ninja... you are one of the best ninjas I ever had the privilege to meet. You saved me from giving up on fighting, you saved many people by defeating the sorcerer and bringing peace to Norrisville. You saved the Sorcerer from his eternal curse and freed his soul. If anyone is going to fail at being the ninja, then it is not you. Yes, it was a close call for those defenseless students, but they are still alive and well and you need not think of the possibility of what might have happened. So do not be hard on yourself, Ninja."

More tears and more hurt/comfort ensues and I think the episode ended with randy leaving the nomicon and having a more peaceful mind.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaHHHHhhhHHHHHHH I CANt BELIEVE I STILL REMEMBER MOST OF THIS DREAM, NOW I WANT TO MAKE A FANFIC OUT OF IT (with probably a few eensy-teensy changes)

#rc9gn #rc9gn randy #rc9gn howard #randy cunnhingham #fanfiction #rc9gn first ninja #rc9gn nomicon #rc9gn dream #dreams #it was a long time ago so i forgot some things #but i swear this is one of my fav dreams #i cant believe my mind could do this #i wrote this w/o caring so much abt punctuation #or typos or grammars

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fantomette22 · 1 year

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One shot : A Small Hair Ornament

[…] “I have something for you…”

She titled her head in anticipation as he extends his right arm in front of him, his palm towards her. She reaches out to the invitation, putting her own hand above his, the back of it resting against his palm. He holds it softly.

He finally takes out his other hand from his pocket, holding tightly the famous object. Attempting not to shiver he puts it gently in her palm. It was a small golden ornament, a hair ornament. The metal feels warm in her hand.

After a moment he lets go of her hands as she observes it intensely, without a word. At first glance it looks quite ordinary, it was certainly not some highly precious jewellery, yet it harboured quite a few detailed floral motifs. It was made with great care and with a particular attention.

“This is a gift, for you. I wish it will bring you comfort and peace. That, when you’ll look at your reflection you won’t think ill of yourself anymore. That you will see yourself how I… how everyone sees you. As the most incredible and kind-hearted lady that you are.”

The gold ornament would indeed stand greatly against her pale hair, they had almost all turned grey by now. Even if she tried to hide it, her light blonde hair changing into a complete white and colourless mane weight on her mind. She was unsure what to think of it or feel, but she sure noticed how others looked at her strangely.

Still looking at the accessory she asked him a question. “Did you… make this yourself ?”

That present meant a lot to him, he wanted to keep it for a special occasion but himself was not feeling particularly well in those troubled times. He didn’t intend on telling her obliviously, it wasn’t the time to worried her even more. Besides, he wasn’t sure how everything would evolve in Yharnam. In these conditions it would be better simply give it to her as a mere gift. If that could soothe her pain, it would be more than enough. It’s all that mattered.

“Yes… I made it. I know it’s not much, but you always said you wanted one, right ? I intended to offer you this in other circumstances, but you weren’t feeling well these times, so I thought-”

He stops abruptly, was she… crying ? “I deeply apologize you can just throw it away if want, you don’t have to accept it ! It was fool of me, I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s perfect ! I’m truly happy and very touch… It’s the best gift I could ever receive. Thank you dearly Gehrman !” She was holding the ornament close to her smiling and removing her silvery tears. Even if it was only for a short time, the simple small ornament was enough to lift all her worries at this very moment.

He returned the smile. “You’re more than welcome, Maria.”

A small, very ordinary hair ornament.

Although it has been lost for quite some time, one can still see signs of the care with which this tasteful ornament was once kept.

Its color would stand most brilliantly against a head of greyish hair.

#bloodborne #my art #bloodborne fanfiction #small hair ornament #lady maria of the astral clocktower #gehrman the first hunter #gehrmaria #interpret it how you want #part 3 : looking for the stars in the abyss #some times after the hamlet and before… well you know..#i had some thoughts and emotions about it recently T_T I got inspired so I needed to write a bit #of course it's missing the scene before and after but I just wanted to do a small thing. it's enough for now #I swear it's a total coincidence I happen to post it today as well #fantomette22art

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morningstargirl666 · 10 months

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FIC REC FRIDAY #4

ad aeternam. by darkness_shows_the_stars / @stars-and-darkness

His eyes are intent on her. They always are, but never so strong, never so scorching, as when he’s needling for information she’d rather not give.

“I want you to come and …” She sighs. This is more difficult than she had expected it to be, and that’s saying something. She’d expected it to be like pulling teeth, but the feeling is more akin to ripping off an arm. “I want you to come and pretendtodateme.”

There. Done. That wasn’t so hard, was it?

No, not at all.

Klaus’s face smooths over, washed of all emotion. “Would you mind repeating that?”

Guys. Listen. I don't go searching for fake dating AUs. Mostly because I'm not a fan of human AUs. When I'm reading klaroline fanfiction, I'm here for the fantasy element, the age old hybrid falling in love with the blonde baby vampire. Therefore, fake dating AUs just don't really blip up on my radar. But. Guys. Guys. THIS FIC ALRIGHT. THIS FIC HAS OVERHAULED MY ENTIRE BELIEF SYSTEM???? LIKE? IT'S POST-CANON DIVERGENCE???????? YET A FAKE DATING AU????????????? DO YOU SEE THE QUESTION MARKS HERE IT DIDN'T EVEN OCCUR TO ME THIS COULD BE A THING AND YET IT IS AND IT IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CREATION TO EVER EXIST?

Anyways. Yeah, go read it.

OR I AM DISOWNING ALL OF YOU

#klaroline fic rec friday #klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #i mean i am bias because it is a gift for me but #the fic wasn't even tailored to my tastes????#and yet I swear to god #it has become one of my favourite kc fics of all time #like #h o w #ella how do you this to me every time #anyways go read it #you will laugh and cackle and scream and squeal #best shot of serotonin to the brain ever #caroline's relatives are absolutely awful and bringing a wolf to the dinner table was perhaps her greatest idea ever #klaus is utterly DELIGHTFUL in this #i've actually forgotten the key things i screamed over now that I try to think #my remembrance of it is just a haze of pure happiness #it's like when you got drunk last night and you KNOW it was a good night out because you can't remember a thing #yeah if you check the comments section my thoughts were pretty incoherent #ella i hope you're proud you broke me with this #fic rec

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compacflt · 1 year

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this is actual agony i have 20k words about ice and slider’s friendship between 1978 and 2022 but i have to cut it down to like 5k words so its not so damn repetitive. this is what we in the writing business call killing your darlings but damn if it doesn’t hurt so bad

#honestly waffling about whether to publish it at all #it’s like. Really repetitive & just retelling pretty much the same story #and goes into a truly obscene amount of detail about #slider getting a commercial pilots license to fly with American Airlines #bc he always wanted to be a pilot #it’s basically just 20k words of the following dynamic over 45 years:#slider: it’s ok to be gay and you’re my best friend #ice: you’re my best friend too but like im not gay bro i swear im not gay #*mav dies*#ice: ok maybe i am gay do you wanna be the best man at my wedding?#the thing is it was kinda like benefit of the doubt before #but once i publish this you guys will realize how little i care about #any character in top gun who isn’t Ice to be honest #realizing that everything ive written is just ice from different angles #top gun #when we get around to talking about it #icemav #tom iceman kazansky #top gun fanfiction #ron slider kerner

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twistedappletree · 11 months

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TYPE: One-shot

JURISDICTION: It’s fluffy, your honor.

PAIRING: Lan Sizhui/Jin Ling

SIDE CHARACTERS: Lan Jingyi, Fairy

ELEMENTS: Humor, junior banter, Gusu setting, canon universe, crush/light romance, wholesome interaction, helpless Jin Ling in an embarrassing situation because we love to see it~

{ AO3 }

•

In which Jin Ling is terrified of spiders, Lan Jingyi is a mischievous chaos gremlin and Lan Sizhui comes to the rescue on a night hunt gone hilariously wrong.

Requested by a friend. 🖤🕷️🕸️

The frigid night air whipped through Jin Ling’s hair as he leapt from branch to branch in pursuit of a straggling corpse. This was his first night hunt in Gusu without his uncle nearby to supervise. The feeling was both terrifying and liberating but he also knew his uncle’s expectations of him were much higher.

He had to hunt something big.

He launched himself into the air with the toe of his boot, readied an arrow in his bow and released it into the corpse’s head. It stumbled forward and collapsed to the ground with a pathetic groan.

Jin Ling landed beside its limp body and kicked it in the side for good measure.

A sudden whirlwind of white and sky blue descended from above along with the silver glint of a sword. The sword pierced through the corpse’s neck as its wielder landed gracefully beside Jin Ling.

Jin Ling clenched his fists and stomped one foot into the dirt. “Lan Jingyi, will you quit it already?!”

The young Lan disciple next to him wiped the blade of his sword and smirked, tossing his long black bangs to the side. “Why would I quit when it makes you so mad?”

“It was already dead!”

“It twitched.”

Jin Ling grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you even following me around? Can’t find your own prey or what?”

“You don’t know? I’ve been asked to keep an eye on Young Mistress Jin.”

Jin Ling’s eyes narrowed at the nickname. “And who’s keeping an eye on you and your annoying mouth?”

Lan Jingyi sheathed his sword and placed his hands on his hips with a triumphant grin. “No one! So you’re just gonna have to deal with it.”

A strange breeze wove between them, directing their gaze to a darker section of the forest heavy with mist.

Seeing this, Lan Jingyi really did shut his mouth as the air around them turned glacial and sinister. Jin Ling took a step forward and squinted into the rapidly forming fog. “Corpses?”

Lan Jingyi shook his head. “I don’t think so. They would’ve attacked us by now. This mist, though…” He stepped forward with Jin Ling and outstretched his hand toward the growing cloud. “It feels natural but intentional. Like it’s camouflaging something.”

Jin Ling’s brows narrowed and a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Then what are we standing here for? Let’s go see!”

In a blur of yellow robes and blind enthusiasm, Jin Ling flew into the mist as fast as he’d spoken. Lan Jingyi tensed and called, “Hey, wait!” as he reluctantly chased after him.

Though it was hard to see through the mist, a flash of yellow pierced his murky sight. He instinctively reached out, grabbed and pulled what he thought was Jin Ling’s clothes but when he yanked his hand back, a pained cry escaped from the young Jin disciple. Lan Jingyi looked down to see that he’d grabbed his hair instead.

Before he could let go and apologize, Jin Ling twirled around and thwacked him upside the ribs with his sheathed sword. Lan Jingyi wailed pitifully and buckled over. He held his side and hissed in pain. “The hell was that for?!”

Jin Ling shoved his peeved face through the mist and glared down at him. “What do you mean what was it for?! You almost ripped my hair out, idiot!”

Lan Jingyi whined and rubbed his sore ribs. “You really do have the temper of a young mistress.”

“Shut up!”

“Point proven.”

Just when Jin Ling was about to hit him again, a curious skittering noise came from the towering trees above them. Lan Jingyi winced as he rose to his feet. “Shit… I knew it.”

Jin Ling gave him a look of confusion and annoyance, still bitter about having his hair yanked like a horse with no reigns. He worked on fixing his loosened ponytail and asked, “Knew what?”

“This place, this fog—I knew it seemed familiar. There’s tales about mist covered nests deep in Gusu’s woods that belong to giant man-eating spiders.”

Jin Ling froze at the mention of spiders. Though he kept this fact to himself, he hated spiders and the thought of a gargantuan blood-thirsty spider speeding towards him on its abnormally large, spindly legs made his skin crawl. “I’ve… I’ve never heard of such a thing. Ridiculous! Probably just a lame rumor meant to scare kids and keep them out of the woods.”

“Maybe,” Lan Jingyi shrugged, “But I’m pretty sure I’ve heard the old man talking about it with HanGuang-Jun back at the Cloud Recesses.”

Jin Ling swallowed at the thought of Lan Qiren and Hanguang-Jun seriously discussing something like this. “Whatever,” he dismissed. “I see no webs and no spiders, so I’m going to go check out that noise and catch something. Stay here and keep scaring yourself with pointless stories if you wanna be a baby.”

Jin Ling did his best to hide his anxiety and whipped around before jumping up into the trees. Lan Jingyi scowled and scrambled after him. “Young Mistress Jin!” he shouted, hoping to anger him enough that he’d come back. However, Jin Ling ignored him and pressed on.

Irritated, Lan Jingyi closely followed the sound of rustling leaves and groaning wood as Jin Ling pounced from branch to branch above him. Finally, he heard a sudden ‘oof!’ as the noises in the trees stopped.

“Jin Ling?” Lan Jingyi called, unable to see anything through the dense fog.

“Wha… what is this?!” Jin Ling said, his tone strained and full of confusion.

Lan Jingyi heard the small twinge of panic in the other’s voice and followed it to a modest clearing where the mist was significantly thinner. He waved away the remaining milky haze until he was greeted by a sight so comically bewildering that he blinked several times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

In front of him was a giant spiderweb woven between the trunks of two strong trees and caught in the center was a struggling Jin Ling with all four limbs splayed like a flying squirrel hovering a mere four feet off the ground.

Lan Jingyi stared blankly for a moment before erupting with laughter. The vision before him was so hilariously satisfying that he almost fell over. Jin Ling’s rage was bubbling up again but he opted to ignore Lan Jingyi’s cackles and focused on trying to tear his hands and legs free. He punched and kicked and rocked forward but the web was surprisingly strong, as though it was specifically woven to catch human prey.

“This is too good, it’s too good!” Lan Jingyi chanted, practically rolling on the ground with wild amusement.

“Will you shut up already?” Jin Ling snapped. “I can’t focus with all your screeching!”

Lan Jingyi tried to catch his breath in between laughs. “If you didn’t storm off like a moody mistress, you wouldn’t have to focus on this.”

Jin Ling tried to lunge forward but it was no use. The web had him locked in place from head to toe. He exhaled and stopped trying for a moment. “Then how about you make yourself useful for once and get me out of here?”

Lan Jingyi pretended to contemplate while an impish idea surfaced in his mind. I’ll just leave him here for a bit to scare him, then come back to help, he thought. He choked back his laughter and composed himself before staring up at Jin Ling with a feigned serious expression.

“No way,” Lan Jingyi barked, his tone sharp but still laced with amusement. “It’s your own fault for barging into this situation, so get out of there yourself!”

Jin Ling fumed and flailed as much as his trapped limbs would allow. “Seriously?! If my uncle finds out you left me here, he’ll… h-he’ll…!”

Laughter bubbled out of Lan Jingyi. “He’ll what? Scold you for getting caught instead of doing the catching? He’d probably leave you here too!”

Jin Ling’s face burned with anger and embarrassment. “Then get me down so we can finish the hunt and actually catch something!”

Lan Jingyi crossed his arms and puffed out his chest like a cocky pigeon. “Nope. Think of this as a cultivation trial. If you can free yourself from that web before the spider comes back, you’ll be ready to face the deepest, darkest depths of Gusu’s wilderness.”

This was the second time he’d mentioned the spider. Jin Ling’s face paled at the thought of whatever mammoth eight-legged beast owned the web he was trapped in. He could barely handle normal sized spiders, though he’d never dream of revealing his fear to Lan Jingyi.

While Jin Ling manically tore through hypothetical scenarios and outcomes if the spider showed up, Lan Jingyi turned around and started walking away. “H-Hey!” Jin Ling shouted. “Where are you going?!”

“Hunting!” Lan Jingyi called back before disappearing into the trees.

Jin Ling huffed with frustration and wiggled around. “What a loser.”

He quickly realized that struggling only made the web’s grip on him stronger since the more he flailed, the more heavy strands of sticky silk wound themselves around his wrists and ankles. Burning the web away was out of the question since he couldn’t reach his talismans and calling his uncle for help was far too embarrassing.

He wouldn’t be surprised if his uncle really did just leave him there like Lan Jingyi predicted. Regardless, he couldn’t reach his flares either.

Jin Ling furrowed his brow and pouted angrily as he brainstormed. “I can’t believe I’m asking myself this,” he mumbled, “but what would Wei Wuxian do?”

Suddenly, he had a flashback to the last time Wei Wuxian ‘handled’ a difficult situation: by running around like a chicken with no head and shrieking for HanGuang-Jun to come save him.

“Useless!” he spat.

He didn’t know how Wei Wuxian could be so shameless, so ridiculous. The last thing he needed right now was another Lan showing up and gloating at his predicament.

Just then, a rustling noise came from the bushes to his right. He froze, remembering the spider but whatever was in the bushes was far too small to create such a large web. Jin Ling watched carefully as the fluffy head of a well-groomed dog popped out of the leaves accompanied by the gentle chime of a round bell around its collar.

“Fairy!” Jin Ling exclaimed. “Where have you been?! Quick, go get help from—“

Jin Ling grew quiet as more rustling came from the bushes and a tall, handsome boy dressed in the white robes of the Lan sect stepped out. He brushed a generous amount of twigs and leaves out of his raven bangs that had accumulated from following Fairy through the forest.

Jin Ling’s face blanched. “…Lan Sizhui…?!”

Lan Sizhui looked up at him with a pair of wide, doe-like eyes that sparkled quite brilliantly in the moonlight. His mouth fell open at the sight of Jin Ling in the web, not entirely sure how to respond to the situation.

“Young Master Jin! There you are,” said Lan Sizhui, a wave of relief in his pleasant voice. “Are you alright?”

Jin Ling glowered at him and turned up his nose. “Tch. How about you ask your annoying Lan twin? He’s the one who left me here!”

Lan Sizhui blinked. “Lan Jingyi…?” He sighed and walked closer to Jin Ling, Fairy trotting triumphantly at his side as though she’d brought her master his knight in shining armor.

Lan Sizhui studied both the web and Jin Ling for a moment and suppressed a chuckle. He looked up at him with a sympathetic smile. “You’re stuck?”

Jin Ling turned beet red and snapped, “I’m not!!!” I-I’m just thinking…!”

Lan Sizhui smiled again, amused by his unwavering pride and reached for a small hunting knife that was strapped to his upper thigh. While Jin Ling was trying his best not to look at him, Lan Sizhui began carefully cutting away the web around his wrists.

Jin Ling’s face was burning with humiliation. Out of all the people Fairy could’ve brought, it just had to be Lan Sizhui—the last person he’d ever want to see him like this. Not to mention, Lan Sizhui was almost a carbon copy of HanGuang-Jun, albeit much more talkative and expressive. Jin Ling mentally prepared himself for receiving a long-winded, boring lecture once he was saved.

After a few minutes of meticulously sawing through the web, Jin Ling’s right hand was freed. He thought about grabbing one of his talismans and burning the rest of the web but his thoughts were instantly scrambled by the tender way Lan Sizhui held his hand to help him balance.

Shocked speechless, he ripped his hand away and immediately fell forward at an awkward angle, crashing directly into Lan Sizhui’s shoulder. He went from holding his hand to hooking his one free arm around Lan Sizhui’s neck and he couldn’t decide which of the two positions were more embarrassing.

His paranoia told him that Lan Jingyi was hiding somewhere in the bushes watching, snickering and memorizing every detail for blackmail purposes. Jin Ling sneered at the thought.

He stared down at Fairy who was sitting obediently in front of the web, wagging her tail and watching with keen interest as Lan Sizhui worked on freeing Jin Ling’s other wrist. However, he wasn’t prepared for the offset of balance that came with both of his hands being freed. For a moment, he felt as if he was actually going to fall and all of his anger melted into a potent jolt of fear.

Jin Ling yelped as he quickly clasped his other hand around Lan Sizhui’s neck and trembled with nerves. “Wah—! Don’t drop me!”

Lan Sizhui blushed from seeing Jin Ling so worried. The way he was hugging his neck made his cheeks flush a few shades darker. He gently but cautiously patted Jin Ling on the back in an attempt to reassure him. “I won’t drop you. I’m not Lan Jingyi, you know.”

Jin Ling grumbled at the mention and plopped his chin onto Lan Sizhui’s shoulder, glaring into the distance like a perturbed cat.

“I’m doing your ankles next,” Lan Sizhui warned. “You can use my back for support, okay?”

Just as Jin Ling was about to protest, Lan Sizhui crouched down. Jin Ling’s torso propelled forward and he hastily propped himself up with his forearms, using Lan Sizhui’s back as a platform. If the positions before were embarrassing, this was simply mortifying. His eyes darted around his eerily quiet surroundings as he tried to think about anything other than Lan Sizhui’s selfless chivalry, the way his lean muscles moved beneath Jin Ling’s body as he cut the web, and the warm scent of orange blossom and cedar wood clinging to Lan Sizhui’s clothes.

But the only unrelated thought that came to mind was the spider. Suddenly, Jin Ling wished he’d kept thinking about Lan Sizhui and stealthily inhaled the clean scent of the Lan boy’s robes for comfort.

“Um… Sizhui?”

Hearing Jin Ling say his name without ‘Lan’ was a rare occurrence and usually meant he had something serious to say. Lan Sizhui glanced to his side in acknowledgment. “Yes, Young Master Jin?”

Jin Ling swallowed. “Are there really giant spiders in Gusu’s forests? And do they really eat people?”

Lan Sizhui smiled. “Lan Jingyi’s been telling his horror stories, I assume?”

Jin Ling deflated onto Lan Sizhui’s back with an exasperated huff. “So he lied to me.”

“Not entirely,” Lan Sizhui revealed. “There’s giant spiders in the forest but they rarely eat people since nobody ever ventures that far in. I’m actually surprised you managed to find a web so close to the Cloud Recesses.”

Jin Ling furrowed his brow. “I really have rotten luck, then.”

Lan Sizhui laughed and shook his head, his hands still working dexterously at the webs around Jin Ling’s ankles. “For this situation, I’d say you lucked out. Take this web, for example—it’s still sticky enough to catch things but it’s fairly old and probably abandoned. Even if I’d showed up later than I did, the worst that could’ve happened is you being stuck here for a bit longer.”

Jin Ling slapped a fist down onto the small of Lan Sizhui’s back, causing the taller boy to rock forward from the shock. “That’s still a ‘what if’ scenario! I swear I’m gonna sic Fairy on Lan Jingyi the moment I see him next!” His voice fell quiet as he crossed his arms and looked off to the side. “I really could’ve died out here.”

A caring softness spread across Lan Sizhui’s face and his voice came in a barely audible whisper. “I’d never let that happen.”

“Huh?”

“Hm?” Lan Sizhui replied, pretending as if he didn’t say anything. “Ah, nothing.”

Finally, both of Jin Ling’s ankles were freed and he scrambled up Lan Sizhui’s back until his arms were hooked around his neck again. Lan Sizhui held him at the waist and carefully lowered him to the ground, letting him tap the toe of his boot on the dirt to make sure it was safe before planting his feet.

Jin Ling slumped his shoulders and sighed with relief, glad to be out of the web. Lan Sizhui expected him to go back to his fiery, combative self but to his surprise, Jin Ling frowned up at him with a bashful, apologetic expression.

“I… t-thank you for helping me.”

The words seemed incredibly difficult for him to say but they were earnest. He could tell by the way Jin Ling’s amber eyes burned with gratitude like a storm of autumn foliage. The sight was rather breathtaking, though he didn’t dare admit this out loud. Lan Sizhui blinked in disbelief before settling into a friendly smile. “Of course. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Jin Ling blushed again and quickly looked at the ground, the sincerity of Lan Sizhui’s words setting his nerves alight.

“Oh,” Lan Sizhui said, eyes trained on Jin Ling’s wrists. “Let me see your hands.”

Jin Ling snapped his head back up. “H-Huh? Why?” Even as he asked the question, he subconsciously lifted his hands as if Lan Sizhui’s melodic voice possessed him to do so.

“The webs,” Lan Sizhui said. When he smiled, his eyes smiled too and Jin Ling paused to study the way his irises shifted from indigo grey to deep azure to cold amethyst in the moonlight—so strikingly opposite to Jin Ling’s wildfire gaze. He couldn’t look away even if he tried.

With his hands hovering in the air, Lan Sizhui began untangling the remainder of the webs from Jin Ling’s wrists and discarded the thick silk strands onto the ground.

Fairy immediately took notice of this and trotted over to Jin Ling’s ankles. She bit and gnawed at the webs on his boots and ripped them away quite efficiently. Lan Sizhui grinned at her efforts. “Good girl! Your master is lucky to have you.”

Normally, Jin Ling would’ve retaliated by now but Lan Sizhui glanced back up at him only to find he was frozen in place with a look of bewilderment as if he’d realized something important and didn’t know how to process it.

Lan Sizhui’s fingers lingered on his wrists for a moment. He frowned and tilted his head. “Young Master Jin? Are you feeling alright?”

Jin Ling finally looked down at where Lan Sizhui’s slender fingers grazed his skin and blushed so furiously he thought his head might explode. He felt dizzy and warm and unable to function. When Lan Sizhui suddenly reached up to brush a strand of spider’s silk from his hair, his chest buzzed like a hive of bees.

“Sorry,” Lan Sizhui said sheepishly. “I just noticed it now.”

For whatever reason, a million thoughts were running through Jin Ling’s mind that he would’ve slapped himself for earlier. Maybe it was the air or the time of night or some strange delirium from being trapped in the web—he couldn’t be sure. He just knew that right now, in this moment, he really liked Lan Sizhui.

He liked his tranquil eyes and gentle smiles. He liked the way his soft raven bangs swept over his headband and tempted his fingers to brush them to the side. He liked that he had to look up at him because of their height difference. He liked how his quiet, soothing voice washed over him in clement waves.

But most of all, he liked the way he touched him. Cautious but daring, soft yet protective. Jin Ling realized that from the moment Lan Sizhui showed up, he felt safe regardless of how many fits he threw.

“Sizhui,” Jin Ling said, trying his best to regain himself. “Can we…”

There was a significant pause between them but Lan Sizhui waited, afraid he might scare Jin Ling into saying ‘never mind’ if he interrupted. He didn’t even know what he expected him to say but he felt anxious with anticipation.

“Can we stay together? For the rest of the hunt?” Jin Ling immediately tore his gaze away from Lan Sizhui, shocked at how such simple words could be so humiliating to say.

Lan Sizhui’s lips parted and his eyes glistened with surprise. He lightly squeezed Jin Ling’s wrists and beamed at the request. “Of course.”

Jin Ling looked back at him with a shining expression, drinking up every detail of Lan Sizhui’s smiling face. When Lan Sizhui released his wrists, he suddenly felt cold so he sidled up beside him as close as he could without causing suspicion.

Their shoulders brushed together as they left the now mangled web and walked back into the forest, Fairy trotting happily behind.

“I’m still gonna kill Lan Jingyi,” Jin Ling muttered.

“Let’s just work on killing corpses for now,” said Lan Sizhui, laughing nervously.

“I’ll turn him into a corpse first, then!”

Lan Sizhui sighed. Senior Wei, what have you been teaching my a-Ling?

{ 🖤 }

#mdzs #the untamed #jin ling #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #zhuiling #mdzs fairy #mo dao su zhi #mdzs fanfic #fic request #mdzs fanfiction #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #I’m putting a TW for swearing but there’s only like 1 swear word so lmfao #I always keep it pretty PG when writing about the juniors #so this is pure fluff and comedy and cute sort of budding puppy love stuff #no extreme violence or sadness or anything like that #also can’t get over the phrase ‘what would wei wuxian do?’ ALSJALKF #like I aggressively headcanon that this is just something the juniors regularly ask themselves in difficult situations #because WWX taught and showed them so many new and unconventional ways of handling things #and so whenever they’re in a ✨situation✨ they’re just like #W-W-WWX-D?#lmfAOOOO #my fics #also if there’s any mistakes apologies in advance #I wrote this so fast and was so happy to be done with it that I just slapped it on here with like #barely any revision LOL #apple fics 🍎

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