#Ben below

[transbot-brian]

If you check the bandcamp for half sin half virtue by ben the below it says Marius von Raum on violins, not kofi young. the implications are hilarious because the two other mechs members credited are their irl names like. Space pirate marius von raum decided to help this british guy who looks like dbb make an album

[bonesybonez]

Can we speak about how iconic Ben Below is? LIKE HELLO?

[majorshatterandhare]

I found this while looking at photos for color reference. It wasn't helpful but it made me smile and I think you all might enjoy it too.

[ID: A photo of Dr. Carmilla and the Mechanisms. From left to right, the photo includes Nastya (Actor), Frank Voss, Maki Yamazaki, Jonny Sims, Morgan Wilkinson, and Ben Below. Maki and Jonny are standing back to back in the center of the frame. They are set forward as compared to the others. On the left, Nastya is crouched and Frank is behind them. On the right both Morgan and Ben are standing facing towards the center. Everyone but Nastya seems to be looking toward the camera.

Nastya has light skin and straight, brown, shoulder length hair, which is lighter at the ends. They are wearing rectangular glasses and a black choker. They are wearing a long sleeve, dark blue shirt, dark blue jeans, and green-brown boots. They have their hands on their knees.

Frank has mid-dark skin and bleached curly hair. They are wearing a dark shirt and have their right hand on Nastya's right shoulder. Most of Frank is unseen. They seem to be wearing blue jeans and brown shoes.

Maki is standing side-to and smirking at the camera. She has light skin and short, dark hair. They are wearing red lipstick and eye make up. She has on a white button up shirt with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows, underneath a black vest, with a black bandana tied just above her left elbow. They wearing black pants with a black belt that has a white flower on it and brown boots. She is holding onto a silver patterned cane in front of her.

Jonny is also standing side-to the camera. He has light skin and short brown hair. He has short facial hair and is wearing black, vein-y eye make up. He is wearing a black velveteen coat over a dark collared shirt, black slacks with a long black braided belt, the end of which hangs to his back, and black boots. He has one hand on his belt and the other is held, relaxed, next to his coat's button placket; it has something drawn on the back in black.

Morgan has his hands on his hips. He has light skin and short, straight, bright red hair. He is wearing a red and black corset style bodice with an ankle-length black layered skirt and black boots.

Ben has light skin and short curly hair of indeterminate color due to lighting. He is wearing a white, long sleeve, button up shirt under a vest which is brown and striped with gold and filigree designs. He is wearing black jeans and brown sneakers. In his only visible hand, he is holding something small, black, and square; it appears to be a flask.

They are stand on and in front of a photography backdrop which is a marbled white color. Past the edges of the backdrop the wall behind them can be seen to have many framed pictures on it as well as some large glass tubes behind Ben's head. There is also something brown and square off the edge near to Ben and a stand of some kind just barely on the backdrop. There is neutral lighting coming from behind the camera and in front of the subjects, as well as harsh red lighting from off camera but to the right side of the photo. This causes significant reflection on the skin and hair of Ben, Morgan, and Frank, as well as a lesser red reflection on Jonny.

In the lower right hand corner there is a water mark reading "Lyon Photography" in a white, all lowercase, handwritten style font. End ID]

This photo was on the Mechanisms facebook page, posted June 10, 2011 and is from the Vaudeville Rave.

[allthedoorsareopennow]

what makes britain great, again? by ben below spitting truths tbh

[graylikethecolor42]

Ok “Raising the Dead!” By Jessica Law Fucks Severely

[krabkrab-wontshutup]

trying to study drumbot brian’s voice because oh my god he’s everything i want to be.

[anachronisticmech]

The ballad of sir David horsenbourough is actually so fucking good

[deadcaptainn]

Your name's on the tip of my tongue

and it tastes bittersweet

The atmosphere's electric

you're in the air I breathe

Like lights in the depths of the ocean

you are glowing in the deep

You're bioluminescent

[thestrangesun]

Oh fuck- new Ben Below album fucking slaps. Icarus goes hard. How to words?

[insoucianceart]

Drumbot Brian you insubordinate piece of ass

[clarasghosts]

Evil 4.09, "How to Build a Chatbot"

[transbot-brian]

i need your audition by ben below forcefully injected into me listening inst enough

[bonesybonez]

hang on I got one more

[majorshatterandhare]

More of the good goggles

[ID: A photo of the Mechanisms, in costume, including Tim Ledsam as Gunpowder Tim, Ben Below as Drumbot Brian, Frank Voss as Ashes O'Reilly, Morgan Wilkinson as Ivy Alexandria, and Jonny Sims as Jonny d'Ville.

Tim is front and center in the photo, holding his guitar and playing. Behind him Ben is on the left side of the frame, holding a drumstick in his hand like he's going to stab someone, and Frank is on the right, holding and playing their bass. Further to the right Morgan can be partially seen, but his face is obscured by Jonny's shoulder, which is the only part of Jonny that is visible.

Tim has light skin and shoulder length, curly, brown hair. His head is turned toward the viewer's right. He has short brown facial hair and wears a pair of modern welding goggles with a teal green skirt and frame and black lenses over his eyes. His face is partially obscured by his hair. He wears a white button up shirt with the sleeve rolled up to just under the elbows under a dark patterned waistcoat with light wash jeans and a belt. His guitar is made of light colored wood on the front and dark wood in the sides, head, and neck.

Ben has light skin, curly, auburn, chin length hair, and short facial hair. He looks down and in front of him. Only his hand holding the drumstick described above is visible; the other is hidden behind Tim, but another drumstick sticks out from behind Tim's hip on the side opposite of where Ben is standing. He wears a white collared shirt under a long black coat with gold buttons and dark trousers. He wears a black top hat with retro welding goggles around the crown and a pair of drumsticks stuck in the strap.

Frank has medium brown skin and shoulder length, straightened dark brown hair, which is shaved or pinned back on their left side. They are looking towards the camera with their body pointed toward Ben. They wear a white collared shirt, untucked, under a black waistcoat with black jeans. They wear a black fedora with a black band and a dark dangle-y earring. Their electric bass has a steel blue body and a light wood neck.

Morgan's skin is not visible, but his hair is short and dyed bright red. He wears a dark grey, long sleeve shirt, under a red waistcoat with brown corduroy trousers. His body is turned mostly toward the right side of the frame.

Jonny is mostly unseen, but on his shoulder, the sleeve of a white shirt and the edges of a vest and sash is two different shades of beige can be seen.

Behind the Mechs a beige and red brick building can be seen across some grey water. Behind and between Frank and Morgan a black tarp with something long, thin, and yellow and red is visible.

End ID]

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 3

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: A huge THANK YOU to everyone who's following and commenting/giving me feedback on this story so far! It's so encouraging for me and I really do appreciate you all. 💖

Word Count: 2,500 Warnings: Angst, violence.  

Part 3: Somewhere Down Below

“Hey, Tony,” you nicknamed your kidnapper. You knew he was the one who attacked you, as you now saw the reason for one of his boots being larger than the other. 

He really did have a broken foot from when you all but stabbed it with your heel a couple of weeks ago.

“How’s the foot?” you teased. 

“Shut up,” he hissed. 

Aw, where’s that charming smile? you thought in grim amusement.

“Hey,” Soldier Boy snapped at him. “Focus. Did I order this?”

“Sir…” Tony said, shifting on his feet.

“What were my words?” Soldier Boy asked, enunciating each and every syllable. Tony looked nervous, though of course he tried not to show it. Soldier Boy was dressed like a wealthy dad on vacation—in a buttoned-down blue shirt rolled up to his elbows, and beige slacks. 

But there was no mistaking the strength in his build, or the threat in his crossed arms and stern expression. 

“To…make sure you weren’t followed,” Tony said. “And to take care of Butcher’s team.”

“Did you do that?”

“My guys found their hotel, yes…but Butcher managed to slip away.”

You smiled at that. Soldier Boy noticed, and he was not pleased. 

“Just him?” he asked. 

“With his team,” Tony admitted. “Except for this one. I thought we could question her.”

Soldier Boy looked at you then. “Okay. Let’s start with that.”

He leaned forward into your space, resting an elbow on his knee. You regarded him with a tilt of your head, trying to hide your wariness.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked. You wanted to say that, first of all, you weren’t his sweetheart. But you decided that question was simple enough. You gave him your first name.

Soldier Boy considered it, and he nodded. 

“Do you know where your friends went?”

“Well, considering I was taken from my room with a musty bag over my head—which smelled like a Frenchman’s asshole, by the way—I’d have to say no,” you replied. 

And you’d spent the past four months helping M.M. clean up after Frenchie and Butcher, so you knew exactly what flavor of grunge that was. 

Soldier Boy’s lips twitched upwards.

“See, that’s what I thought,” he said. He glanced back at Tony with a certain look. One that actually made you nervous for your kidnapper. He was a criminal, and a handsy dick, but you didn’t want to see anyone die in front of you. 

Soldier Boy stood, and Tony tensed up. 

“They’re working with the CIA. They’ll have safe houses lined up,” said another groupie in the Soldier Boy club. You recognized him as well. This was the crew-cut Hispanic man who’d escorted you up to Soldier Boy’s room at the gentleman’s club.

Soldier Boy looked over at him and considered this with a nod. He stepped back while Tony approached you. You took a breath to try and steady yourself. 

It begins. If you were going to take a hit, you preferred it be from Tony’s pansy ass.

Don’t let him in. Don’t let him see that you’re afraid.  

“How about it, doll?” Soldier Boy asked. “Who’s your controller at the CIA?”

“Grace Mallory,” you revealed, with only a small twinge of guilt. Grace could take care of herself, and you were a P.I., not a fucking spy. “I believe you’ve met before.”

It took a moment for Soldier Boy to remember the name, but you watched the realization alight in his eyes. 

“Ah, the lesbo. Damn, she must be an old fucking bag by now,” Soldier Boy mused with a grin. “She give you a list of safe houses here?”

“No. We’d check in after crossing a location off our list, and she’d send us the itinerary,” you said. And that was the truth. He looked into your eyes, and eventually he nodded. He seemed to believe you. 

“Okay, let’s try this. If you had to guess, where would Butcher and his merry band of assholes go to regroup?” he asked. 

“I honestly don’t know … but what does it matter? They don’t know where you are,” you replied. “Most of them are just human, like me.”

You watched Soldier Boy’s reaction carefully. He didn’t seem to outwardly react, other than a fractional tightening of his jaw. 

“After what you did in New York, blowing up that building. Taking out your whole damn team. Killing Homelander. I thought you’d be swatting us like flies,” you said with a breathy laugh. 

Because really, you didn’t expect to live much longer than the next few minutes. Maybe talking could extend your life just a bit longer… 

Tears welled up in your eyes when you thought of your family though. Your mom. Your sister, Luisa. They’d probably never know exactly what happened to you. But you counted that as a small blessing.

“But then again, Butcher and his guys almost put you back under,” you added. 

Soldier Boy had been almost amused by your audacity, but now his expression tightened. His arms crossed as he rose a brow. 

“And you ran away. You’re still running away,” you said. “Why? Are we just not worth your time? Or are you actually worried we might just outsmart you?”

The hit actually took you by surprise, because it didn’t come from Soldier Boy. It was Tony who backhanded you roughly. He wore a gaudy ring that bit into your cheek, opening a bloody nick in your skin. The blow itself was hard enough to make stars burst behind your eyes.

Stronger than he looks, you could admit, just to yourself.

“You’re a fucking mouthy one, aren’t you?” Soldier Boy mused.  

You licked your dry, lipstick-smudged lips and caught your breath. Your wrists were burning from the zip tie holding them behind the chair, making your shoulders ache as well. Your cheek was throbbing. 

But you looked up, ignoring Tony, and stared directly into the green in Soldier Boy’s eyes. It was a challenge that he met.

“You really believe you fuckers can win, don’t you?” he asked. Your lips quirked, even as a tear rolled its way down your bloody cheek. 

Right now, you weren’t sure of anything. But you believed in your friends—in Annie and Hughie, M.M., Frenchie, Kimiko, and yes, even Butcher. They’d almost done it before. They could get it right the next time, even if it was without you. 

“Yeah, I really fucking do,” you replied. Then you aimed a wry glance at Tony. “By the look of your little backup dancers here, I’d say it’s a matter of time before they put you back in the box.”

Tony’s ring bit into your cheek again, this time in a closed fist. You tumbled over with a pained cry, still tied to your chair, but one of the old wooden legs broke. It was an antique, after all. 

When your head smacked against the tile floor, the lights above you got hazy for a moment. You tried to blink them back into focus as you stared up at the ceiling. 

The truth was, you were exhausted. If you were going to die…you’d really just like to get it over with. 

So as you struggled for breath, your gaze wandered and met Soldier Boy’s again.   

You couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking, but you were sure that your end was coming when his arms uncrossed, his posture tightening. Unlike his friends, he didn’t have any guns on him at the moment. You knew very well that he didn’t need weapons.

But he held a hand against Tony, and he called to the Crew-Cut guy.  

“Frank, get her a room,” he said. “Watch her though. She’s a wily one.”

You blinked in confusion as Frank nodded. He and Tony pulled you up from the ground and untied you from the chair’s remains, but soon their meaty man hands wrapped around your arms. 

Soldier Boy started to walk away from you. You knew you should just leave it be, but you couldn’t help it. 

“I’m staying?” you asked. Soldier Boy paused. He looked back at you over his shoulder.

“Oh, you’re staying.” He nodded, with a smirk you decided you didn’t like very much. “For now.”

You were led to a room with a queen-sized bed and the basics in furnishings: a desk, a TV, a closet, one nightstand, and a small two-seat table. Tony pushed you in, and the door slammed shut behind you. 

Rude. But you supposed it could be worse. You looked yourself over in the mirror, and you were pretty ragged. Bruised and bleeding, your hair a virtual rat’s nest, your eye makeup dark and running, your lipstick smudged, your dress in tatters, with the split in the skirt still revealing your entire left thigh and dirty bare feet. 

Heaving a deep sigh, you returned to the door and weren’t surprised to find it locked. But you knew someone must be there on the other side to make sure you didn’t try anything.

“Hey, geniuses,” you called. “Got any sweatpants out there? A hairbrush? A toothbrush? Some bread or something? If you’re gonna have a fucking hostage, might as well make sure I stay alive.” 

For a while, there was silence. But eventually the door opened, revealing Frank. He was tall and stoic, and like you remembered, with cropped dark hair and a thick beard and mustache. He handed you a plate with two slices of dry bread, and nothing else. You raised a brow at him.  

All he said was, “Check the dresser.”   

Then the door shut in your face again. You looked down at the sorry plate. 

Could’ve at least slapped some butter on it. Goddamn. 

You ate it anyway though; now that you weren’t about to die, you were starving. But you did as Frank instructed and indeed checked the dresser. There were some men’s clothes in one of the drawers, but not much. This had to be a guest room of some kind. 

You opened the rest of the drawers and managed to find women’s lingerie, of all things. 

Definitely a party mansion, you decided. The vacation home of one of Soldier Boy’s old connections, you guessed. 

One culprit could be the Legend. He was Vought’s former Senior Vice President of Hero Management, before Madelyn Stillwell. Butcher had mentioned that he’d stowed Soldier Boy in one of the Legend’s penthouses before.

In the drawers you finally managed to find some women’s jeans, a few tops, panties, and quite a few skanky dresses. They looked old though, like they hadn’t been washed in years. And likely from the 80s, if the gaudy frills and funky patterns were any indication. 

Who knew how long ago these drawers had been stocked and left untouched. And God knew if they were even your size, but you supposed you’d find out. 

In the bathroom, you also discovered a first aid kit and a spare towel, along with soap, shampoo, conditioner, and host of other toiletries. This is like a damn hotel, actually.

Except for the whole being a prisoner thing. Again, you supposed it was better than the alternative. 

After you’d showered and dressed in a shirt and the only pair of shorts you found (the clothes were too tight, probably meant for some supermodel, but you’d manage), patched yourself up the best you could, and tamed your wild hair, you at least felt like a human again.

You didn’t know what time it was, as your room didn’t have a window. But you did have a bed, and it was calling you. You slipped under the covers and let out a long breath. 

So many scenes from earlier today played and replayed through your mind. All the “what ifs.” If you’d been more successful with Soldier Boy back at the club. 

If you’d stayed more alert in your hotel room. If you’d managed to call out to Annie or M.M. or Butcher or any one of your team, could they have stopped you from being kidnapped? All of them had been attacked as well. 

But clearly, if you were the only one captured, then you were the least of all of them. 

That thought made you shudder, your eyes burning with tears. You had also given up today. When you’d continued mouthing off to Soldier Boy, you’d succumbed to your seemingly inevitable fate, already given up on your life. 

You felt guilty about that when you thought about your sister. If there was one thing the two of you had learned from your fucked childhoods, it was that giving up wasn’t an option. 

You had spent most of your life fighting. Fighting so she could have a good future.

“I wish you’d start protecting yourself,” she’d told you. One of the last things she’d ever told you.

So…you decided that from this moment onward, you were going to fight. 

For your life, and for your freedom, no matter what Soldier Boy wanted with you. 

“He’s in the wind,” said Butcher. “Might be time to regroup.”

He leaned on a chair, like it was getting hard for him to stand, and coughed into his arm. Hughie watched him in both curiosity and concern. Was he getting sick or something? 

“We’re not just leaving her out there,” Annie snapped. “We’re finding her now.”

Hughie knew that look on his girlfriend’s face. No matter what Butcher said, you were a priority. You had become her friend, and she was not leaving you with a sick fuck like Soldier Boy.

“I hate to tell you this,” Butcher said dryly, “but it ain’t likely that she’s still breathing.” 

That fell between the entire team with a heavy silence. 

Until Hughie spoke, calm but determined. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “We don’t just leave our friends without trying.”

And by now, he could call you a friend. Annie certainly agreed.

After sharing a look with Kimiko, who smiled and nodded, and then M.M., Frenchie grinned. “I agree with Petit Hughie.”

He slapped the younger man on the back, though Hughie shot him a wan look. 

“Can you stop calling me that?”

Butcher looked to M.M., who crossed his arms and nodded back. 

“Can’t leave a man behind. Besides, if we find her, we probably find Soldier Boy.”

After a moment, Butcher shrugged. 

“All right. Let’s hunt down the old fuck. Again.”

AN: "Welcome to the Hotel California! Such a lovely place, such a lovely face." 😅

Next time, she tests her limitations:

It was Soldier Boy, of course. He was looking down at you, not sure if he should be stern or amused. 

“What a naughty little girl,” he drawled. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t mind your fucking manners.” 

Keep Reading: PART 4

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

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[silverthelovebug]

Okay, so, who do I have to commission to make a “Yaz dies from the Mosasaurus” fic?

NOBODY GIVE ME WEIRD LOOKS BECAUSE YOU GUYS LOVE MAKING BEN ACTUALLY DIE TO THE PTERANODONS !!! I’ve seen the fics ,,

The scenes happen back to back too, so it’s like — almost equal amounts of angst !! Because when Yaz breaks her ankle and Sammy runs over to her, she’s still pissed at Sammy, so imagine the guilt Sammy must feel if she watches Yaz die in front of her without ever making things right ??? Not to mention Ben’s guilt of feeling like he caused her death bc he was slowing them down with Bumpy. Maybe even Kenji too for not pulling her to safety fast enough with the feeding hook !!

Which is an ironic name..

I’d write it myself if I had the motivation to finish things ..