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daughterofcain-67 · 2 months

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𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 (pt. 9)

(Soldier Boy x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your main goal while you’re riding with Butcher is to make sure you can get Ben back no matter the cost. After getting to Grace Mallory’s last known residence, you hope you can find what you’re looking for. The sooner you’d find Ben, the better off you’ll be.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cannon level violence, nothing to explicit. Alternative ending to the final episode of season three in a way, or an alternative version of the aftermath rather. Hope you all enjoy!

You could hear the way Butcher was grumbling obscenities to himself all throughout the car ride to get to Grace Mallory’s home. You didn’t catch all of it but you knew Butcher wasn’t exactly thrilled to be going back to a place where he was unwelcome. It surprised you since you assumed he got used to the feeling of being unwelcome considering his record.

“You know, you aren’t the only one in the car. You sound like a psychopath talking to yourself when I’m right here.” You said as you continued to look out through the windshield.

“I just don’t get why you’re going through all this trouble for a guy who’s willing to kill children like Ryan just to get to his goal. What kind of heartless bastard is he?” He asked, glaring at the road and you shrugged a little.

“And you were completely fond of Ryan when you found out he was the spawn of your wife’s rape? A spawn of Homelander? Don’t tell me the thought hadn’t crossed your mind, so that argument is kind of unfair to Soldier Boy.” You commented and you heard Butcher continue to grumble.

“That’s a different bloody story. Becca didn’t ask for any of that shit to happen to her. She went missing for so many years and I had no fucking clue what happened to her. Hell, there were times I thought she was dead.”

“Soldier Boy is my Becca. You went a handful of years without her. I’ve gone decades without Soldier Boy. And he didn’t ask to be taken to Russia, didn’t ask to be robbed of the opportunity to raise his own son. Who knows, if Soldier Boy really did raise Homelander, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out to be such a dick.” You continued.

“I hardly think Soldier Boy is really as helpless as Becca was though.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.. Yeah he’s strong and for the most part he can take care of himself if you take the damned Novichok out of the equation. No, he’s not as helpless as your wife was. And I’m sorry for your loss and I hate to hear what happened to her. Maybe that wasn’t exactly the best example.”

“You think?” Butcher muttered as he started to turn on a certain road.

“Okay, okay. Bad analogy. Maybe it would be better like this… The same love Becca felt for you? The way she loved you is the love I feel for Soldier Boy.”

“Oh now you’re comparing me to Soldier Boy? Thanks, that’s such a bloody compliment to be compared to the cunt.” He said and you sighed.

“Well, all I’m saying neither of you are perfect. You both have your flaws. Like a shit ton of flaws and no one in their right mind should care for either of you. Both of you have blood on your hands whether you wanted it or not. But Becca accepted you, flaws and all. She knew you’re far from perfect and she wasn’t blind to the fact that you’re not exactly the greatest guy on the planet, but her love for you was still strong and unconditional. And I love Soldier Boy even with all of his flaws and mistakes.”

Butcher was silent for several moments while his gaze remained transfixed on the road ahead of the two of you. You turned your head and looked out of the passenger window.

“He really wasn’t a bad guy in the beginning. Arrogant, sure. But he never wanted innocent people to get hurt. He just got suckered into Vought’s trap like a lot of Supes do. They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions after all. And after a while, I guess he, like most supes, lost a lot of their morals somewhere along the way…” You said.

“He was telling me about that. Just before we were on the way to fight Homelander.” Butcher finally spoke again.

“As much as I don’t like what Annie said about Soldier Boy, and as much as I think she grew a little bit self centered for it, I’m still glad she stepped away from Vought when she did.” You spoke as you remembered that Annie was still the one that gave you that unreleased photo of Soldier Boy.

“I can tell her heart is still in the right place, so there’s hope for her yet. She’s just got a bit of growing up to do.” At this, Butcher only hummed.

You sighed a little, ready to get out of the car. It felt like you had been driving for most of the day, but really it’s only been about two or three hours, “How much longer ‘till we get to Mallory’s?”

“Won’t be too much longer.” Butcher said, starting to get short again.

When you glanced over, you saw that he wasn’t in the right shape and you noticed that something seemed to be leaking from his ear. Your frowned a little.

“Is that from the temp V you’ve been taking?” You asked and pointed at your own ear.

Butcher glanced at you and he touched his own ear. He glanced down at his fingertips and muttered a curse as he wiped the residue on his pants. Lovely.

“Yeah.”

“You must’ve taken a lot of those doses, huh?” You asked.

“Eh, mistakes have been made. I’m just glad the Kid didn’t take anymore. It would’ve killed the little fella.” He insisted.

“So… what made you protect him? Isn’t that kind of out of your character?” You inquired, which caused him to shoot a glare at you.

“I’m not that bad of a guy either ya know. I’m doing this with the whole, Hell with good intentions thing you were talking about.” He commented as he looked back at the road.

“But anyway.. Hughie reminds me a lot of somebody I knew.” He finally answered your question after a few minutes. You smiled a little to yourself, knowing Butcher couldn’t have been that bad of a guy deep down.

“Friend?”

“Family member… brother.”

You frowned a little, getting the feeling from the way Butcher went stoic with his facial expressions that something bad must’ve happened. You glanced down at your hands, “I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t nothing to be sorry for. Only thing that can fix anything is a Time Machine at this point.” He told you, though the comment didn’t make the frown leave your face.

“So how long do you have left?” You asked, getting the feeling the temp V may just be costing the man his life.

“Doctor’s say I’ve got about 18 months, that’s if I’m lucky. Which so far in life, I haven’t been so lucky.”

“I’m sure Hughie may be able to help you find some kind of cure. Plus you’ve got Frenchie who’s apparently one Hell of a chemist.”

“I haven’t told the lot of them yet. And I don’t plan on it.”

“You know Hughie’s going to be crushed if you don’t say anything to him and he finds out some other way.” You reminded and Butcher shook his head.

“I got him wrapped up in this mess from the start. I’ve dragged all of them through the trenches, so most of them may even be glad to hear I’ll be dead and out of their lives for good.” Butcher said.

“That’s awfully pessimistic of you.” You replied and he gave a slight shrug.

“It’s the truth though. Not much helpin’ that one.”

You looked out of the window again when the conversation didn’t go any further. But then after a few minutes, the two of you made it to a house that must’ve been Mallory’s. Butcher pulled into the driveway and the both of you got out of the vehicle.

“Look’s like she’s not here.” Butcher said when he noticed there weren’t any vehicles, and he remembered this was the last place she was when she was still looking after Ryan.

“Still, she’s bound to have some sort of notes, maybe even a computer so we can look through her emails and see what we can find. If she’s not here, there are always other ways to find out where she’s keeping Soldier Boy.” You insisted, hearing Butcher sigh you walked up to the door.

You noticed there’s a padlock on the door and you lifted a brow as you tried to think of what sort of codes to try. As you started to press some of the buttons, you heard the shattering of glass. You stood upright and looked around, but the next thing you knew, Butcher was opening up the door from the inside so you could come in.

“You’re in a rush, right? Let’s get this over with. Pressing buttons and solving puzzles won’t get you anywhere fast.” He said and you smirked a little.

“Let’s see what we can find.”

Ben woke up yet again feeling drowsy as Hell. He honestly had no idea at this point how long it’s been since he’d been taken. He stopped counting the hours, especially since he couldn’t when he was blacked out some of the time because of the damned gas or whatever they were putting in him.

He felt drained, but at this point it wasn’t a new feeling. It was still a humiliating feeling though. When he finally opened his eyes again and glanced down ward, he saw someone was drawing blood from him. As much as he wanted to move his arm away, he couldn’t because they put more restraints on his arms as a precaution from last time he was able to get one of his arms free.

“What have the results been so far?” Ben could hear a familiar voice question.

He slowly looked over and saw Grace was standing behind the woman taking his blood. The bitch looked even worse up close. He couldn’t say anything though. Mask and all.

“Nothing. I’m getting to understand why the Russians just put him away. Pretty much nothing can kill him and we aren’t making much progress with finding any other weaknesses.”

“And you’re taking his blood, why?” Mallory inquired.

“We’re hoping to see what kind of genetic weaknesses he could have and we need his blood to do some tests for that.” The doctor said.

Ben winced when he felt yet another needle in his arm and he assumed they were taking more blood from him. He tried to jerk his arm away but that did nothing to help him.

“What other procedures will you be performing in the meantime while you wait for the blood tests?”

“We’ll be seeing different ways the Novichok and maybe some other vapors can effect him. Maybe we can use that to kill him rather than using the radiation like they did in Russia.”

That sounded like it would be a painfully slow process. All the Novichok did was make him feel sleepy, almost like an anesthetic. But if he were to die in his sleep, Ben supposed he’d take that over a painful and torturous death.

“You know, maybe we can save some of the blood. If we can use his genes, maybe we can make a different hero. One that’s better than Homelander. Raise him up to take Homelander down.” Mallory suggested.

“Work for us? They’d be labeled as just another super terrorist or supervillain or whatever the term is. Are you sure that would be a good idea?”

“If we can shut down Vought once and for all, then anything would be worth it.”

Ben couldn’t stand for it. He wouldn’t let his DNA be used for someone else’s experimentation. Especially not after the last child turned out to be such a damned disappointing excuse to be called his son. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

“No…” He managed to speak and Mallory looked over at him.

“No what? I don’t think you have much control over what we do here.”

“Do not.. make another kid. Not like that bitch Homelander…”

Mallory heard the comment coming from Soldier Boy. She was almost amazed that he could even gather up the consciousness to form a sentence with how much Novichok they were gassing him up with. She hoped he wasn’t growing some sort of immunity to it. That would be disastrous.

“Trust me, Soldier Boy… if we do find a way to make a child from your DNA, the last thing we want is another Homelander.” She said, but she could tell the thought wasn’t comforting to the fallen hero. Not that it was intended to be a comfort anyway.

“It won’t be like you or Homelander. Maybe it’ll be even stronger than Homelander’s so called son, Ryan.” Mallory shrugged and that was when her phone began to buzz.

She pulled her device from her pocket and looked down, realizing there was an alert from her last residence.

Her eyes widened when she saw the security footage. It was not only the familiar face of Butcher breaking one of her windows to get into her house, but he was working with none other than Quake.

Grace could see from the phone they were looking for something. When Grace watched you look through her office area and she saw you open up her laptop, her stomach dropped. She didn’t know how quickly you’d be able to find this lab, but Mallory knew it would only be a matter of time before you’d be on your way here.

“Keep him sedated.” Mallory said as she turned on her heel while she was about to walk out of the door.

“What’s happening? It’s not like he’s going anywhere.” The doctor said and Grace looked back at Soldier Boy.

Once they made eye contact, Ben knew something must’ve happened. He smirked when he saw a glimpse of weakness in Grace’s eyes, a glimpse of fear.

“We may need to move him. My last location’s been made.” Grace said and walked out of the room.

The smirk remained on Ben’s face as he looked back up at the ceiling. If his assumptions, his hopes even, were correct… you’d be there to get him out of this Hell-hole in no time.

You saw the information on the laptop screen and you smirked before you looked over at Butcher who was just looking over your shoulder.

“I take it you’ve found it?” He asked.

“Yep. Let’s head out. If I know Mallory and her security plans… she may already know we’ve been here.” You commented and wrote down the address. Then you folded the paper in your hand and stood upright.

“We need to move now before she tries to move Soldier Boy.” Butcher nodded before he turned on his heel and headed for the door that’s been left open.

With that, you and Butcher both left the house and rushed to the car because the two of you could hear sirens in the distance. Mallory must’ve sent some kind of security to her home or something because of the break in so now it was time to haul ass.

Neither of you really bothered to buckle up and Butcher started the car and drove off. Meanwhile you grabbed your phone and started typing in the address on the GPS so Butcher could head that way.

You could tell Butcher was speeding with how you felt like you were about to sink into the seat as he took off. The sirens were close for a moment but as Butcher drove the sirens started to sound like they were getting further and further away.

Once you put the location in the GPS and put the phone on the little phone stand, you looked in the passenger mirror, “Do you think we lost them?”

“Ain’t no tellin’ so we may have to take advantage of our other precautions… check the glovebox.” Butcher told you so you opened it up and saw a gun.

“Let’s hope we’ve lost them.” You said, not sure of your aim with a gun and if you could get their tires or if you’d end up missing them and hitting someone else. Boulders you could handle, guns? Not so much.

But unfortunately, you could hear the sirens again and they were gaining on you pretty fast. You looked in the passenger mirror again and you felt a little uneasy.

“Quake, you’re gonna have to use that bloody thing if they get any closer to us. And from the looks of it… they’re coming pretty quick.” Butcher said and you looked down at the gun in your hand.

“Aim for the tires and you should be fine..” You whispered to yourself and you made sure the safety was switched off and you carefully got out of the seat and tried to steady yourself, though it wasn’t so easy since the road was starting to get a little bumpy.

You leaned out of the window and faced behind you. Sure enough, some cars were gaining speed behind you. You tried to steady your breathing while you lifted the hand that was holding the gun and aimed forward for their tires.

You pulled the trigger the first time and flinched when you heard both the gunshot and the tire blow on the first car. Your eyes widened when you saw the first vehicle struggle to keep control and they went off the side of the road.

“And you thought your aiming was bad. Now knock the dust off those other cunts.” Butcher said from the driver’s seat and you nodded to yourself and you pulled the trigger again, then again, taking care of the other two cars. You saw as the front of the two cars met and you could tell they were totaled with the way the airbags went off.

You felt a hand at the back of your shirt to pull you back in, though you realized it was just Butcher. You thanked him and switched the safety back on the gun and put it back in the glovebox. You ran a hand through your hair before you glanced over to the phone, looking to see how long it would be until you’d get to your destination.

“You think Soldier Boy will still be there if Mallory knows we’re on the way?” You questioned, trying not to doubt now of all times.

Butcher shrugged, “We’ve already made it this far. We won’t know if he’s there until we get there.”

After about ten more minutes, you finally arrived at your destination. Butcher went for his little black bag and you knew the V was in it. You put a hand over his and he looked at you.

“What?”

“You’re already dying. Don’t make the process speed up. The only supe that’s in there is Soldier Boy and he’s incapacitated.” You said and you reached into the glove box and pulled the gun out.

“Stick around for Hughie for as long as you can.” He looked at you with an oddly soft look, uncharacteristic of him and you didn’t like it but you could tell he was at least trying to let your words set in. You knew he cared for Hughie a lot, and he was kind of the only voice of reason Butcher seemed to have. It kept Butcher human in a way.

But you couldn’t be sentimental much longer after that.

The both of you got out of the car and they already knew you were coming. Some of the guards were already holding up their weapons and you raised up your hands as a wall of rock and dirt appeared between you and Butcher and the guards. Then with a pushing motion, the wall you created plunged forward and knocked all of the guards down.

When that happened, you already started to feel a little lightheaded. You supposed you weren’t completely at full capacity after the incident at Vought’s tower. But you couldn’t focus on that right now. You had to get Ben out of there. The sooner, the better.

You lifted a boulder and you threw it into the door, breaking a gaping hole into the building and you and Butcher came in. Butcher started shooting at even more of the guards. It was nice to know that even if he didn’t have much of a choice in this matter, he still had your back to a certain extent.

When you caught a glimpse of some people rushing down the hall across your path and you had a feeling you ought to follow them. You bit down on your bottom lip before you started running into that direction.

“What’s happening?” You heard someone call.

“It’s Soldier Boy. He’s trying to break free again. He’s already snapped the leather straps on one of his arms again.”

“Who the hell was watching him?!”

You didn’t care to hear the rest of that conversation because you knew they’d try to get Ben back into that vault. So you followed them and you slammed your fist against the floor.

“W-What was that?!”

“Quake! She’s here!” One of the scientists said and when you looked up you saw the look of terror on their faces. You smirked a little before you put your hands in the crack in the floor you created before you pulled your hands apart, thus splitting the floor open and they fell into the hole. You left it opened so they could at least try to get out on their own.

Then you ran to the other end of the hall, desperately looking for any sign of Ben.

You could feel something tickling your nose and rolling down and as you ran, you lifted a hand to your nose and looked down. You noticed the blood. “Fuck, not now.”

You shook it off and you rubbed your nose before you continued running. That was when you ran past a window where a light was beginning to glow. You opened the door and you saw that some scientists were frantically trying to keep a mask over Ben.

“Ben!” You exclaimed and you caught a glimpse of his gaze. Your eyes locked and then you diverted your attention to the scientists who were working but some of them went to you and they were coming towards you.

They were trying to corner you and you glanced around to see what exactly you could do but then you saw a scalpel. You picked it up and you started stabbing the scientists. As they cried in pain while gripping their arms or sides, you lifted another hand and twisted your wrist a little to try and take a chunk of the wall closest to them and you pushed them out of the room.

The last two scientists that were once hovering over Ben were coming at you. But then your vision was starting to get blurry no matter how hard you were trying to focus as they were coming at you. One of them tackled you to the ground and you were trying to fight them off with the scalpel.

One of them managed to take the scalpel from you and they held it up against your throat but then before you knew it, they went flying somewhere and you thought you heard some kind of crash. Sounded like one of them landed on a table or something, but you couldn’t really be sure.

But when you looked up, you saw Ben was the one hovering over you.

“Y/N, come on. Wake up. You can’t black out now.” You could hear his voice, hearing a twinge of concern and you knew he was right. This wasn’t over yet.

You could tell from the slight strain in his voice he must’ve gone through some sort of Hell of his own these past couple of days. But you couldn’t focus on that right now. It was getting harder to focus on anything but you started to get up and you felt Ben’s hand grip your arm as he basically dragged you up from the ground.

“How are you feeling?” He asked you and you nodded your head slightly, not wanting to move it too much because you felt like your head would explode if you did.

“Fine. Let’s get out of here.” You said and as you were rubbing your eyes to try and get them to focus again, Ben must’ve taken one of the doctor’s scrub pants because when you opened your eyes again, he had a pair of those light blue pants on and some poor guy was sitting there with nothing to cover his lower half.

You and Ben rushed out of the room and you could hear some gunshots.

“Come on, we have to find Butcher.” You said.

“Wait, you brought that asshole with you?” Ben asked.

“Ben, I had to. He was the only one that I could get to tell me where Mallory lived so I could even find this place. Can we talk about that later?” You said.

The two of you began running and that was when you saw a glimpse of Mallory trying to get out of the building and you glared, “Oh Hell no.”

Just as she made it outside, you rushed outside as well. Then you lifted your hands and several boulders appeared from the ground and you used them to crush each and every car that the woman could have possibly used to escape. There were about six vans, three cars, and two cargo vans that must’ve been used for the equipment they used to torture Ben. Every one of them were nothing but useless car parts now.

You saw Grace look back at you before she tried to run off and you clenched your fist and pulled your hand to yourself. Just as you did, the earth rose up and grasped Grace before pulling her to yourself. You rotated your wrist and the earth moved to make the old woman face you.

“I thought of all people, you’d know how much Soldier Boy meant to me. You even worked with me to bring Vought down just to prove they were the ones behind his whole so called death charade. To think you’d be one of the ones that would try to take him from me again.” You said and Mallory looked at you.

When we figured out what we needed to, we would have given him up.” Mallory said and you scoffed.

“If it were up to you, you would have given me a rotting carcass.” You continued.

“How far did you get, huh? What exactly have you found?” You asked and she shook her head.

“I haven’t found anything other than the Novichok because of Frenchie.” She said and you glared as you tightened your fist, causing the earth to act as an iron maiden, threatening to pierce the old woman’s body.

“I swear! Radiation does nothing but strengthen his energy blasts. Vapors just act as an anesthetic to keep him stabilized. That’s all I know.”

“Good… that’s the last thing you’ll ever find out about him.” You promised and with a snap of your fingers, the spikes went through Mallory’s body. She didn’t even have the chance to scream before the life left her eyes.

When you released the earth’s grip on her body, she plopped to the ground almost like a sack of potatoes. She was nothing but a bloody mess with holes in her clothes where her wounds were.

“Y/N! What did you do?!” Butcher called out.

When you turned around, you saw both Ben and Butcher walking forward. But everything that’s happened in the last several moments took a lot from you. The blurriness returned and that was the last you remembered.

Ben’s eyes widened when he saw you start to fall and he started running to you.

“Fucking Hell.” Ben said as he caught you just in time, knowing you must’ve overdone it. Your recovery time must’ve gotten longer since the tower. This whole rescue thing didn’t help at all.

“She bloody killed Mallory!” Butcher exclaimed and Ben glared.

“Like you’ve never killed anyone before.” Ben reminded.

Ben noticed Butcher went over to the woman and watched as Butcher sighed a little.

“She was ready to see her family though. She’d been ready for a long time.” Butcher said and Ben just let out a hum, not really interested as he looked down at you.

He put his hand on the pile point in your neck and let out a breath of relief. Then, Ben looked over at the building that had kept him the past several days. He carefully laid you down on the ground for a moment before he focused his energy to his center again. Afterwards, the next thing he knew there was another explosion and the building and everything inside was destroyed.

“You’ve gotten better at that, haven’t you?” Butcher said and Ben looked over at the man in the coat.

“I guess.” He said before Ben turned his attention back to you. He knelt down at your side before he took you into his arms again and he stood up. He felt the way your body leaned into his chest and he was honestly glad you found him. But he needed to get you some place safe so you could recover.

“You think she’ll be alright?” Butcher asked as he walked over but Ben could sense the sort of caution Butcher had.

“You know I’m not a ticking time bomb, right? Yeah, she’ll be okay. Just need to get her somewhere safe so she could rest up.” Ben said.

Butcher rubbed the back of his neck. A part of him didn’t want to help Soldier Boy since he would have killed Ryan if he had the chance, but aside from the threat you made, you were alright for a supe he supposed. You weren’t his favorite person in the world, but you did promise to keep Soldier Boy accountable and you said you’d stay away from everyone’s families if you got Soldier Boy back.

“Come on… I know a thing or two about stealing cars. I’ll give you a card and you can get her to a hotel to rest up.” Butcher said.

Ben looked up at Butcher, almost wondering if this was some kind of joke or if this was some trick. Could you blame him for being hesitant when the man turned on him back in the tower?

“Why? I didn’t kill Homelander and Y/N killed your little friend.” Ben said.

“If she can keep somebody like you in line when you can’t be killed, then we need her around. The world does. Just don’t let anyone here catch you around. Especially MM. He still wants to kill you.” Butcher said.

“Now are you coming or not?”

Ben was still skeptical about this whole thing, but he knew he didn’t have any other choice. So he nodded and he carried you out to Butcher’s car and the three of you rode somewhere to try and steal someone’s car from some gas station or something.

Ben was sitting down beside you on the bed while you rested. By that time, Ben had already used the card to buy himself some clothes so he wasn’t wandering around in scrub pants. He was wearing some t-shirt and some sweatpants and he had some socks on his feet.

Other than that, he hadn’t left your side. He wanted to make sure he was there for you whenever you’d wake up. Although he knew it may take a little longer than he wanted to. Still, it had been several hours since the both of you left Mallory’s little lab or whatever. It couldn’t be too much longer now, could it?

He gazed at your figure and he reached out to brush a stray hair away from your face. Then he moved to reach for the remote on the night stand so there would be some kind of background noise rather than the silence.

Ben looked over at the television and noticed some trailers for some new movies were out. He rolled his eyes a little. There were times where he got really tired of seeing supe movies. So Ben used the remote to try and find something worth watching. Then he saw a black and white film, something that took him back in time.

He recognized Clark Gable and Doris Day on the screen and it made him smile when he was able to at least recognize those faces, even if they weren’t exactly his favorite actors. The movie was apparently called Teacher’s Pet when he saw the title on the screen before it flashed away.

Ben started growing a little more interested in the old movie, there was something about it that felt more familiar to him. Maybe it was because it was something from a familiar time.

“You know, I loved Clark Gable back in the day.” Ben heard a familiar voice say and when he looked down, he saw your beautifully colored eyes opened and on the screen.

He smiled as he turned the volume down since the television switched to some adds now and he turned to face you, “You’re awake.”

“How long was I ou-“ He interrupted you with a kiss, unable to wait any longer.

He could hear you chuckling against his mouth and he slowly pulled away and he looked down at you, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing…. I’m just glad to see you too.” He heard you say and he grinned before he cupped your face in the palm of his hand.

“You over did yourself again.” Ben stated.

“Twice.” You answered.

“I know. You wanna tell me about the tower?” He asked and you shook your head a little.

“Not much to tell. You went out the window, I went to panic mode that switched to some kind of rage mode. I’m surprised I was awake right after. I looked for you but realized I hat to run. Found some abandoned building to crash in and I crashed there for a while. The first two days I felt like I’d puke if I even thought about standing. By day three I was able to at least walk.” You said and Ben sighed.

“You really shouldn’t use your powers for a while.”

“Since when did you become a doctor?” He heard you ask and he saw your smile.

“I’d make a pretty shit doctor. But I’d rather not watch you black out again.” He admitted and you nodded before he felt you move closer to him, so Ben wrapped an arm around your smaller frame.

“What about you? How are you feeling?” Ben heard you question and he smiled a little. But then he remembered some pain killers or whatever other kind of drugs Butcher handed him before he went back to his little group.

“I’m fine. A hell of a lot better now that I’m away from that place. But here, take this. Butcher said it’s supposed to help with whatever migraine you might get.” He said and handed you some water and a couple of pills.

He watched you sit up and you took the pills before you started drinking some water.

“How long have I been out?” You finally asked him and Ben shrugged a little.

“Several hours.”

“So… what do we do from here?” He heard you ask and he chuckled a little.

“I thought you would have thought about it a little more. What’s the situation with your house? Couldn’t we just go back there?” Ben asked but then he watched you shake your head.

“No, Vought got to it and destroyed pretty much everything. Honestly, I think our best bet may be leaving the country.” You admitted and Ben frowned at that idea.

“You really think we have to go to that extreme? Mallory remained off the radar for several years and so did you, and you were able to stay in the states.” Ben stated, you hummed a little.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure if I can go into hiding again so soon. Who knows if Vought has people all over the country looking for me. Maybe even you if word were to get out that you’re alive.” You said.

“You act like Vought’s got a shit ton of snipers crawling all over the place.” Ben sighed and you shrugged.

“Who knows… you never know what Vought has up their sleeves. And I really don’t want to stick around and find out.” You said.

“If we’re out of the country for at least a year, maybe two. That way Vought thinks we’re out of the picture and it opens some sort of door for us to come back. You know they’re all about their fake deaths for supes they lose or force into retirement. Until then, maybe we can travel. It could be really fun.” You continued.

“Traveling.. might sound alright for a while. At least until things quiet down a bit. People already think I’m dead because of Vought I’m sure.” Ben commented and he watched you nod, confirming his statement.

“So where do you think we should go first?” You asked and Ben felt you place a hand on his own, causing him to grin as he intertwined your fingers.

“As long as we aren’t in Russia, I’ll be happy.” Ben reminded.

“Well, I kind of figured that would be a given… what about Ireland?” You suggested and Ben thought about it for a moment.

“You know what? I think that sounds like a great idea.”

Ben watched the way you smiled softly and he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead while you snuggled closer to him. He looked down at you, loving the fact that you were in his arms again.

“Thank you.. for coming and saving me.” He whispered and you hummed softly.

“Ben, that’s not anything to thank me for. When you love someone, you’d do anything to make sure they’re safe. I lost you once when you went out of the country, then again at Vought when Queen Maeve pushed you out of that window. I couldn’t lose you again after I just got you back.” You insisted.

Ben’s gaze softened. If he wasn’t mistaken, that may have even been the first time you said you loved him, even if it was in some sort of descriptive way. He knew you loved him based on the letters you’ve written him over the years, but he’s never heard you actually say it.

“God, you’re nothing like Crimson Countess, are you?” Ben chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t think I could hate you nearly as much as she did.” You replied, he hummed as he looked down at you, observing your features.

“My world would crumble if you hated me half as much as she did. Then it would completely disappear if anything were to happen to you, if I lost you.” He admitted.

There was a change in the dynamic between the two of you in that moment, a shift in the atmosphere in a way. It was something the two of you hadn’t been able to sit and relish in ever since he came back. The two of you had been so preoccupied with his mission of killing the members of Payback, then the Homelander fiasco, then you rescuing him from Mallory’s lab.

“You know… when I woke up and heard the TV… a part of me wondered if everything that’s happened this past week and a half has been a dream.” You admitted.

“How do you mean?” Ben said gently.

“I mean… You’ve been gone for so long… I spent years in my house writing all of those letters. I’ve spent countless nights dreaming of what it would be like if you were to come back. This whole endeavor… A part of me thought after Mallory’s lab, that was just the end of another dream. A part of me wonders if I’ll ever get over the surrealism.”

Ben chuckled, “You really must’ve worn yourself out if you’re still thinking it was all a dream after this whole time.”

“Well, Ben… why don’t you show me how real all of this is?” You asked him, then a smirk started to appear on Ben’s face.

“With pleasure.” Ben said as he leaned down for a kiss. A kiss that would surely take your breath away and show you that this was reality. That this would be your new reality for the rest of your life and that you’d never lose him again.

After so many decades of being away from Ben, you knew what it was like to wander the earth as if you’d lost your other half. You knew how it felt to be so alone for so many years. You’ve felt out of place for so long but with Ben in your grasp again, you felt whole, complete. It was a happiness you hadn’t felt in so long and you were glad you finally had the man you loved beside you again and you couldn’t wait to see how the next several decades would treat the both of you.

It would certainly be an adventure, one you were more than eager to share with Ben for the rest of your life.

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @capricxnt @k-slla @david-tennant-obsessed-blog @deangirl96 @mimaria420 @ashdoctor @muhahaha303 @angelbabyyy99

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy jensen #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy the boys #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy ff #soldier boy fic #soldier boy x reader #the boys ff #jensen the boys #amazon the boys #the boys #the boys amazon #jensen ackles the boys

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plasticfangtastic · 8 months

Text

American Royalty. Ch. 1

A Homelander X F!Reader fanfic

A/N: I am writing this alongside another fic so sorry for the publishing schedule altho I got 2 chapters done, this is my dadlander fic and hyperfixation explorations

Sypnosis: Homelander never wanted to remember you again, but after welcoming Ryan into his life, he thought of you, and the lie that tore you two apart, but now... thinking back, thinking of your betrayal-- was he perhaps wrong about who the father of your unborn child was? Did you perhaps told the truth all those years ago? That it was his.

Tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, OC characthers, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter One

Blue

It had been by pure chance, whether it had been a combination of forced reminiscing and exhaustion that Homelander had thought of you after all these years; These meetings had been proven wasteful of his time, nothing the PR and Digital Marketing departments could come up that was good enough, and somehow he had gone from irritated to just defeated.

He sulked in his chair listening to their meandering voices brainstorming potential ideas as to how Ryan’s new origin story had to be developed and handled, whether it was too squeaky clean or absurd, how much could they risk offending the child, how much of his mother should be kept from the public (not that they were very aware of the fine details, as Homelander had been more than just vague about it, he had simply no intent to divulge about his son’s conception, upbringing or his mother’s fate) Homelander would never allowed the public to look with pity or fear at his son, he would not allow them to brand him as a murdered over an accident– he could still hear his son weeping and shaking in his sleep, waking up in a fright, seeing invisible blood in his hands.

Homelander had grown overprotective of the boy, he was made indestructible but his mind and heart were glass, still pure and uncorrupted by the awful world they inhabited, he would never allow anything else to taint it and bring him nightmares– so this had to be perfect.

To make it worse, the kid was growing impatient and depressed, forced to stay in the tower until this story was concocted, he couldn’t attend school or interact with other children until he was trained and learned his lines, making his father increasingly more paranoid that his son was slowly growing resentful.

“Mister Homelander… what if we base Ryan’s mom off one of your other ex-girlfriends?” A rather tired intern had muttered– preferably somebody dead…”

The room shot daggers at the nameless intern but Homelander simply sat in silence and gave it a thought, he had plenty of unsuited mates disposed and handled in the past, the amount of NDA issued made for a small but noticeable stack alone, he looked at the table and the box of cannolis that the group had been munching on, looking at the small printed italian flag on the box’s side.

That he thought of you for the first time in years.

You had been his new personal chef, your interactions minimal as you brought him his meals, he hadn’t known at first how heartbroken you’d look as he returned half touched dishes over and over, it had become a competition against yourself to make him eat, every leftover morself a cause of grief, as if your honor and ego had been beaten mercilessly with every dirty plate.

One evening, Homelander sat on his couch watching a documentary by Orson Wells, he hadn’t noticed you there as you brought him dinner, the way you looked at him with spite waiting to throw the most likely untouched plate of pasta back at his face, it would get you fired and possibly killed but you couldn’t take it anymore. You were a chef, a professional, you had turned down a dream job and left the restaurant you loved for the honor of being Homelander’s personal chef, the job that would open you a thousand doors but it was without reward now it felt like your biggest mistake, no matter what you made he fucking hate it but offered no feedback, you had no clue what he wanted, what he disliked and liked, what he craved, or how he liked his meals– he simply left your food untouched.

Diverting his gaze from the film, he noted your food and that you were still there with a block of pecorino and a grater in your hands.

He stood up with a groan, lifting the silver cover to reveal boring pasta and bolognese sauce, it wasn’t styled exceptionally, it didn’t even look too appetizing, it was just some fresh linguine covered in meat sauce, he stared at you as if this was some sort of joke but your dead eyed expression was off-putting.

“Would you like some fresh cheese, sir?” Your voice might as well have been automated.

Frankly he didn’t want any cheese but pasta had to be eaten with cheese, he gestured for you to grate watching an off-white pile form on top of his pasta with no intention of stopping.

“That’s enough” he said sharply, he took the plate looking at the mound and then back at you who was still in the room, he wrapped his fork with the pasta doing his best not to stain his suit.

You just wanted to save the time with coming back to pick up the insults, but there he took the first bite of this homely dish heis eyes opened up, there hadn’t been anything special, you simply had taken some left over pasta and brought a jar of your grandma’s sauce, a recipe she had guarded fiercely ever since she stole it from some italian friend’s mom many many years ago, you adored this recipe, it had been the reason why you fell in love with food, you loved visiting your grandmother when it was time to jar the sauce, and when she served you a humbled serving of bolognese– he gave it a second bite letting the tangy and fresh sauce wash over him.

And that’s when he finally noticed you for real, how closely you watched him eat, smiling as he took another mouthful and mixed more of the fresh pecorino, there had been something warm about this meal, it lack pretense, it was something that no high end 5-star restaurant would serve but it tasted… warm.

From that point on, he looked forward to his meals, wanting to see what the fuck had you done to make food taste worthy of his body, noting you would personally deliver the meals after he failed to clean the plate on the previous one, he hadn’t even known your name but he noticed you.

You were cute, your voice had gained some warmth since that awkward first impression, he could tell it was these homemade meals that tasted the best, as if you put everything you had to make them taste delicious, there were no frills with these, just good homemade fair, made with love, he had began asking for things he had been curious but never served as if they were above his status like meatloaf, carbonara, shepherd's pie, etcetera. These were the kinds of meals the families he’d seen growing up behind the screen would eat, he had been the first to strike a conversation.

You listened, you talked, and before he knew it, he had found himself asking for your company at the dinner table. You were hesitant at first but he was handsome and charming, but above all he was the Homelander! While apprehensive you still took to his offer just to smugly enjoy seeing him enjoy your food, proud that you had triumph in this battle where so many had been defeated, you’d cracked the code and god it felt good.

It became part of your weekly schedule, having dinner at his penthouse and chatting about anything, he loved talking and eventually it became apparent that it wasn’t because he was in loved with his voice but simply… he hadn’t got anybody who enjoyed listening to him, you were attentive, you responded well and even if you weren’t sure about something you weren’t going to let him feel as if you weren’t approachable anymore, you were more than happy to hear him explain to you a topic because his eyes gleam like those of a small kid telling you about something new they learned at school– in truth you loved how happy he became when he could rambled about things, as if nobody in the world had ever given five seconds of their time to let him talk about strange events from history and his theories, tonite he wanted to talk about the Dyatlov Pass incident and star formations that he was sad that he couldn’t see from New York, wishing you could see how the sky looked like from his cabin.

You’d spend more and more time in his home as the conversations grew more frequent, as he wanted to hear more about your interests and hobbies.

Thinking of how cute you looked while baking, how cute your laugh was, of the way you always held him after long days, that first real date, that first time you held hands, the first shy kiss after dinner.

As he took a long whiff to catch some of that gentle sweetness, he thought of the last day you were together.

That sound.

The thing that’s the size of a bean.

The anger, his heart shattered, all the colors of the world had dissipated when he saw that tumor growing in your stomach, he wanted to hurt you as much as you did, to shut you up as you threw excuses, begging him to believe you.

But that thing wasn’t his.

It couldn’t be his.

You said it was his, that the baby you didn’t even know was inside you was his, but he couldn’t be the father.

His eyes widened, he stood up and left the room, his mind focused on your name. They had tried getting his attention but could only give up as nobody would dare to chase after him, Homelander found himself entering the analytics offices towards the first chump he spotted.

“Can you find me information on a former employee?” He said firmly, the junior staff jumped at his seat nodding frantically– their name was Y/N L/N.” he said quietly.

The staffer didn’t have to do much work, you were easy to find, your name attached to Brooklyn’s most loved pizzeria for the last couple years, your face on their socials, and even a video from some food channel following what it was like working in Brooklyn’s hottest pizzeria had you in it, your shop had been listed as the best two years in a row, Homelander couldn’t bare looking at your face, but he asked for an address.

That night after spending time with Ryan who seemed to be sulking more and more, as he watched him eat his dinner, he thought of you, the kid was meandering whatever was on his plate didn’t feel appetizing, his meal was no different from what it was served in a high-end restaurant and the kid had no desire to eat it, he wanted Ryan to have the finest things when all he wanted was to have his mom’s tacos– his son opted to head for bed early skipping dinner all together, it was almost 10 pm, a heavy feeling had been boiling in his stomach since that meeting.

Taking flight all the way to some red brick Brooklyn projects, hovering about until he encountered you.

Time had been kind to you but you looked tired, the glow in your skin now dulled, your appearance unkempt, your clothes worn and old, your shoes the nicest thing you worn but they still creased and dirty, you looked beyond exhausted, your eyes half closed and your arms dangling on your sides as you carried a couple grocery bags, he looked around at the constructions and rubbish, at the hooligans and wannabe gangbangers, and the rancid smell. Hundred buildings all the same, he wanted to get closer as he watched you walk alone in those sticky white painted brick walls, you stopped suddenly by one of the brown doors, there were only four other doors in that floor, waiting patiently, an old lady opens the door, you two exchanging pleasantries as you handed the lady two of your grocery bags, a small dog came to say hello and then… there she was.

She was small for her age, she didn’t jump with excitement or say much to you, just a slight bow to the old lady and she walked in front of you as you said goodbye, only stopping two doors down.

Your apartment was small, two small bedrooms, small kitchen and barely sparsely decorated, but it was clean and tidy, your daughter dropped her school bag, and headed for the bedroom while you moved to the kitchen, never really talking to each other, he found himself flying closer just to get a perfect vision of that child.

She was a mini-you, taken so much from you, whoever the father was it didn’t seem to have mattered in the end for the kid got nothing from him, she changed to her pajamas as you sat on the couch after throwing away your uniform to the floor.

You two talked briefly, you didn’t read her any stories before bed or kissed her good night, you simply stared at each other and talked while you stretched your feet.

The little girl entered her room, a tidy space, books piled up on the floor in sharp stacks against the wall, a desk containing some electronics and a couple stuffed animals.

She was a cute thing, just like you had been once, her hair short and her straight bangs covering most of her face, too long for it too be safe, she had your complexion and jet black hair, she sat on her desk turning the desk lamp and picked her Kindle up, looking at her clock then back at her Kindle, she sat there for a couple minutes digesting some pages until it was almost midnight, before heading to the living room– you’d passed out on the couch, she took your phone and put it to charge fidgeting with something before leaving it, turning the TV off, and finally turning around to slip a quilt on top of her mother.

Homelander almost felt sorry for the kid, after all you had done to him only to neglect your child, you were just as much of a scumbag as he had imagined, he had had enough wanting to fly away until he saw the little girl staring back at him.

The lights were off on the home, and it was dark with the streets below shaded piss yellow, he looked around wondering if there was something nearby that caught your daughter’s attention but she was staring straight at Homelander, she forced the window open peeking her small frame slightly out the window, in the dark starless night while strangers made a ruckus a couple streets from here, a bright twinkling of pale blue illuminated your home.

He got closer, something caught in his throat as he came only a meter away from your daughter.

She looked so much like you but her eyes even as they lost their unnatural light were so blue, as if the entire ocean lived in her eyes.

The curtains slid shut, his chin flicked in surprise as he caught the small figure plainly ignoring him, he was loved by all, especially children! Even those whose favorites were Noir, A-Train or Maeve loved him! Yet this little girl had just shrugged him off and ignored him, simply returning to her bedroom to shut the second set of blinds and jump straight to bed.

Homelander was left dumbfounded, not once had he seen such disinterest and callousness from a member of his safest demographic, so he stood in mid-air pondering about killing both of you briefly, just as the heat from his cheeks cooled down, he stared at the now sleeping brat, wondering about that inhuman blue light that glossed her big round eyes.

#homelander #homelander x reader #the boys oc characther #homelander fanfiction #american royalty #my fic tag #personal #dadlander #I been possessed #not proofreaded sorry #homelander x f!reader #homelander x you

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teastainedprose · 2 months

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Homelander pinky promises

Homelander isn't a tender man. He isn't soft or gentle. There's no room for such sentiments when you're a God. All the sweetness was wrung out ages ago. Vogelbaum had seen to that. Yet, when Ryan flings himself at him, he doesn't push his son away. He tightens his hold, mindful not to squeeze too tight even if Homelander knows Ryan is durable. He's a God as well, but a young one. Still tender and kind. When Ryan crawls into his lap as if he's far smaller than he truly is, Homelander simply adjusts on the couch to make room. He would never reject his son as he seeks closeness, knowing how alone he must have felt being left with 'Aunt' Grace. He's here now and that's all that matters. Homelander is determined to give his son the childhood he deserves. The one he never had. "You weren't lying when you said you're not mad, right?" Ryan asks, voice small. "Hey, what's all this-?" Homelander starts, but the expression on Ryan's face gives him pause. A myriad of expressions flicker across Homelander's features before it softens. "No, I wasn't lying."

"-and you're always going to be here for me, right?" Ryan shifts, grip tightening as he gives Homelander an uncertain look. "Yeah, I promise." Homelander huffs softly, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Pinkie promise?" Sitting up, Ryan holds out his hand with pinky extended. That perplexes Homelander for a second before he holds up his own hand. His gloves had been long removed before his visit with Ryan. He offers his pinky, "Pinky promise."

#Homelander #Ryan Butcher #The Boys #I mean of course this made me think of Ryan #Who else is gonna ask Homelander for a pinky promise?#dear anon you gotta give me Homelander x something unless you want me to go off the rails #the rails being making Homelander Dadlander every time I guess #I just think they're neat #drabble #anon ask #ask #Homelander Writing #Ryan Butcher Writing

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blindmagdalena · 4 months

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Christmas Traditions

1k gen fic featuring our favorite dysfunctional father & son. some themes of grief and slight codependency. inspired by the exchange in the comments of this ask.

Homelander tells Ryan that Santa's not real. It goes poorly.

“Hey, dad!” Ryan calls from the living room.

“Yeah, bud?” Homelander calls back, meticulously unraveling a nightmarish tangle of Christmas lights. If he’d had things his way, the decorating would have been done for them when the two of them returned to the penthouse.

Instead, Ryan had been insistent that they decorate together.

It’s tradition, he said. Homelander didn’t have the heart to refute him.

“You don’t have a chimney,” the boy declares from the doorway, standing with a stocking clutched in both hands. “I don’t have anywhere to hang my stocking.”

“Oh, uhhhh…” Homelander looks over his shoulder, eying the stocking warily. One of Ryan’s holdovers from his former home. Former prison, more like. “Go ahead and hang it on Atlas. What’s one stocking against the weight of the world?”

Ryan doesn’t seem to appreciate the joke. His expression is still pinched in concern.

Homelander frowns, setting the lights down. “What’s wrong, bud?”

“How’s Santa going to get in if you don’t have a chimney?” He asks very seriously, lightly twisting the stocking between his hands.

“Oh,” Homelander barks softly, breaking into a smile as he looks back to his task. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the whole Santa thing?” When he looks back to his son, it still isn’t clicking. His brows furrow. “He’s not real, Ryan.”

Ryan grimaces like he’s been struck at, lifting his stocking to chest height like some sort of festive barrier. “Yes he is. Mom said so.”

Homelander blows a raspberry. Great, it’s going to be one of those conversations. “Yeah, well, your mom said a lot of things that weren’t true, didn’t she?” He stands from the table and makes his way over to the boy now scowling at him with hurt and confusion. “But hey, look at it this way: you don’t need Santa anymore. You’ve got me!” He says, arms splayed in invitation. “I don’t even need reindeer to fly! And neither do you, for that matter.”

Ryan doesn’t move. He’s still clutching that stocking to his chest. It looks handmade, the large R initial sloppily sewn in place. As much as he’d like to sneer at it, there’s a nagging jealousy in the back of his mind because the imperfections are how he knows it was made with love.

“Hey,” Homelander coaxes again, reaching out to give his shoulders a little squeeze. “C’mon, pal. Am I wrong?”

Still, Ryan doesn’t move. He doesn’t meet his father’s eye. Homelander can feel the mounting upset in the slight tremble of his shoulders, though.

“C’mon, little man,” he says, giving the gentlest shake. “Talk to me.”

“I killed Santa,” Ryan croaks out.

Homelander recoils in equal parts surprise and confusion. “What?”

“It’s my fault,” he says, clutching the stocking tightly to his chest, choking on each word as tears spill down his cheeks. “It’s my fault mom’s gone, and now Santa’s gone too. They’re gone and I killed them.”

Shit, shit, fuck, damn it, shit.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, back it up, kiddo,” he says, dropping into a kneel. “We’ve been over this, okay? What happened wasn’t–”

“It doesn’t matter!” Ryan interrupts mournfully. “It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter if it isn’t, she’s still gone. And Santa’s not real because she’s gone.”

Homelander stares for a long moment, utterly at a loss. “I… I’m sorry.”

The dam breaks and Ryan sobs as he throws his arms around Homelander’s neck, muffling the wet noise of it into the collar of his suit. The sound of it is horrible not just for the sensory of it, but how each ragged breath tolls like a bell of failure. Father’s aren’t supposed to make their sons cry. They’re supposed to protect them. They’re supposed to make everything better.

Homelander lifts Ryan as though he’s much smaller than he is, cradling the crying boy to his chest and rubbing his back in soothing sweeps. “I’m sorry, bud,” he says, whispering it again and again and again. “I’m sorry.”

I’m still getting the hang of this, he nearly says, but he swallows it back. He wants Ryan to think of him the way a father should be seen. As if he knows what the fuck he’s doing. He continues to rub his back, comforting him through a loss that is both alien and painfully familiar to Homelander.

He never had a mother to lose, not really, but isn’t that a loss in and of itself? The pain of grief is a bitterness shared across all types of love. Even for the love you never had the chance to know. Even for the love that was a perversion of what could have been.

His own eyes burn with their shared grief. His son weeps in his arms like a very small child would, and Homelander hears the familiar sobs of his own childhood echoed in those same cries.

“It’s okay,” he says, clearing his throat, the catch of his voice humiliating to his own ears. “It’s okay, son. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here… I’m here.”

Maybe it’s a poor consolation–Ryan will always miss his mother–but it has to account for something, doesn’t it? He already has so much more than Homelander ever did. He understands Ryan better than anyone ever will, and vice-versa. Together, they can weather this storm.

Eventually, Ryan quiets. He could have cried for several more hours if he wanted. His fathers arms will never tire of his weight. He’s stronger than that, though; of course he is. They both are, Homelander tells himself.

“Can we still put out milk and cookies?” Ryan asks after a time, voice still half-muffled against Homelander’s suit.

“Yeah, bud,” he agrees readily, giving his boy a squeeze. He would agree to anything in the world right now. Arson, murder, robbery, a thirty-stack of pancakes, whatever the kid wanted. Homelander’s nerves feel as structurally sound as jell-o in the wake of his son’s tears. “We sure can.”

As Ryan would say, it’s tradition.

#i know christmas is over but i was too depressed to write so you get it late!!!!#anyways i'm sad about ryan and i love him #ryan butcher #homelander #homelander fanfiction #the boys fanfiction #my writing

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zepskies · 2 months

Text

And So It Goes - Part 20

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

Summary: As Madelyn Stillwell’s personal assistant, Helena Flores finds herself caught between protecting her job, and more importantly her life—or helping Billy Butcher bring down the supe who killed her best friend, Becca.

AN: We’re almost to the end!

Word Count: 5,000

Tags/Warnings: Angst, peril, love triangle, a final showdown, character death, and a goodbye…

ASIG Series Masterlist

20: Father & Son

We’re probably gonna die, Helena thought, as M.M. pulled their off to a shaded side street behind Vought Tower.

Kimiko and Frenchie soon split off to get down to the lab, after Helena gave them precise directions on the best way to get there. While Hughie went to the Security control room to try and evacuate the building, Helena went with M.M. and Annie up several floors to find Butcher and Soldier Boy.

Once they got up to the upper floors, they came across a few stray Vought employees that were hastily making for the stairwell. When M.M. questioned where they were going in such a hurry, one of them answered, “Homelander’s about to fight Soldier Boy.”

Helena, M.M., and Annie continued at a faster clip down the hall, where they were able to hear familiar voices. M.M. slowed them to a stop in front of an office door, drawing his gun. Annie stepped in front of them protectively.

When she broke into the room, she raised a glowing hand. She soon dimmed it when she realized what was happening. Even M.M. stopped short, but Helena pushed through them both as her mouth fell open.

“Ryan!” she gasped.

He was with Homelander at the far end of the room. They, along with Butcher, Maeve, and Soldier Boy turned their heads at the intrusion. It was three on two, but Homelander had a loose and familial hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Ryan, a—are you okay?” Helena asked. She tried to step forward, but M.M. held her back. She glanced at him in annoyance, but he raised his brows at her.

She realized then he was just trying to protect her from making a potentially dangerous move forward, even though he was probably still angry at her. She was grateful, but still worried when she met Ryan’s blue eyes.

“I’m fine,” Ryan answered, though his voice had a slight shake to it. He seemed happy to see her (as happy as he could be in a moment like this), but Homelander’s hand kept the boy from taking a step forward. Helena softened, her heart aching. Homelander must have found him…and taken him.

She glanced at Butcher next. He was eyeing her in what the bloody hell are you doing here sort of way. She gave him a look he ought to know well.

For you, you idiot. But her focus shifted back to Ryan.

Without Helena realizing, Ben’s gaze had drawn to her—at her panic-stricken face when she saw the boy with Homelander. Now that he knew who Ryan was, it made Ben look at her harder. She’d known what she was doing when she kept that information to herself, about her best friend’s son. His grandson. But Ben also begrudgingly understood why she kept that secret.

She was an idiot to come here though. His mouth firmed in a line when, unbidden, something she’d told him filtered back through his mind, on that first late night in her home.

“Why’re you up, anyway?” Ben asked.

“Well, I could blame it on the pain,” she replied, after downing two pills with her water. “But um…I keep replaying yesterday in my head, over and over like a bad movie. It always stops at the part where I look up at Homelander’s psychotic fucking eyes, and I just…I knew.”

Helena shook her head. Ben’s lips tugged downward.

“Knew what?” he asked.

“I’m officially on his hit list now,” she said.

And the way she couldn’t help but look at Homelander in fear, like the supe was some kind of monster… Ben couldn’t help thinking (deep down), would she say the same of him?

“Don’t you see?” Homelander said. Once again, he commanded the attention in the room, even though it was Ben he was talking to, as if all the others didn’t matter. They were just specks in the realm of his existence.

Homelander smiled. “You have a family. You have him, and you have me.”

He nodded at Ryan, his hand tightening a fraction on the boy’s shoulder. Ben saw the kid tense up a little. Ryan’s eyes shifted from Homelander behind him, to Ben. And then beyond him, to Helena, and even Butcher. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to be, and Ben saw it.

Deep down, he could relate.

He stared back at Homelander, this thing that should’ve been his son. Ben’s lips quirked, and he stepped forward.

“It’s a shame that I’ve missed so much,” he said, in the face of Homelander’s burgeoning tears. “I wish I could’ve raised you, and taught you, father to son.”

“That’s okay,” Homelander whispered. “We’re not alone anymore. We have each other.”

Ben’s smile became more dry. He grasped Homelander’s shoulder. “Maybe if I’d raised you, I could’ve made you better. And not some weak, sniveling pussy, starved for attention. But there’s no fixing that now.”

“Weak?” Homelander echoed. His expression had dropped from tearfully hopeful, to shocked, and the beginnings of anger. “I’m you.”

“I know,” Ben said, hating the way his lips actually trembled at the admission. “You’re a fucking disappointment.”

He grabbed at Homelander’s face, tilting his laser eyes back. Butcher and Maeve came up on either side to secure the supe, but Ryan protested.

“Ryan, get out of the building, now!” Butcher told him. Still, the kid pushed back to try and help his father.

Helena broke away from M.M. and Annie in their shock to go to Ryan, but M.M. reacted at the last second to grab her arm.

“Let go of me!” she whipped back. M.M. stared down at her incredulously. She was human, the same as him, but unlike him, she wasn’t a fighter. She didn’t even have a weapon on her, let alone one that would work on Homelander or Soldier Boy.

“Are you crazy?!” he asked.

“Are you?” she retorted. She twisted out of his grip and managed to slip away from him.

By the time Helena turned back to the scene before them, Ryan’s eyes were glowing red.

He shot a laser beam right at Soldier Boy, knocking him through the far wall and onto his ass. When he got up, shaking rubble from his shoulders, he clearly wasn’t happy about it.

Fortunately, Helena reached Ryan just as Ben took a few intimidating steps forward.

“Ben, stop!” she shouted.

And it actually halted the supe’s steps. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pulled into a frown. His gait was tense, but she held her ground with her arms wrapped around Ryan. The boy’s fear made his eyes dim back to their normal hue as he glanced up at her, and then back at Soldier Boy. She was able to slowly tug Ryan behind her.

“Please, don’t hurt him,” she said. Her tone was pleading, a hint unsteady. If he really wanted to get to Ryan, he’d have to go through her first.

Ben knew it…and found himself conflicted.

Meanwhile, Butcher had been mostly distracted with trying to help Maeve (and now Annie) keep Homelander held down. Now, he realized just how much this was all about to cost him. His eyes widened when he saw Soldier Boy’s threatening stance.

“Helena!” he called out, just before Homelander broke free. He punched Butcher down with a crack against his face. V24 was coursing through the man’s veins, allowing him to take the hit and deliver one right back.

“Scorched earth, eh William?” Homelander taunted. His red-hot gaze glanced in Helena’s direction. Butcher sneered and landed a blow right between the supe’s eyes.

Helena and Ben shared one last look.

Finally, he relented. He turned away with a surly frown, jumping back into the fray with Homelander. That was his real target, and she was grateful, blowing out a relieved breath before she turned back to face Ryan.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked.

She set her hands on his shoulders. “That’s my line, bud. Come on, let’s go.”

He resisted when she tried to pull him away from the warzone happening far too close for comfort, in an office that was not meant to contain a whole five-on-one super battle.

“No!” Ryan refused to move, shirking her grasp. “Homelander…he’s my dad. He cares about me.”

Helena let out a shaky breath. She laid more gentle hands on his arms.

“Ryan, he’s using you,” she said. “Whatever he told you, maybe he believed it…but I doubt he’s truly capable of caring about anyone but himself.”

“No, that’s…that’s not true,” Ryan shook his head in protest. When he pulled away from her, she tried to hold onto him a bit tighter so he wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire of the battle. M.M. saw them both and was trying to get around the danger zone himself to help them, but Ryan wasn’t helping Helena at all.

In fact, he broke away from her with such strength, he actually pushed her to the ground. She gasped at the impact when she fell. Not just at the shock of it, but at the pain; it disrupted her still broken ribs…which she’d ironically gotten when Homelander shoved her into a wall back at Herogasm.

Fuck, she sucked in a pained breath. She also saw the shock and dismay cross Ryan’s face. He hadn’t meant to push her that hard, to hurt her. She knew it when she saw that look.

She held up a hand to him, “It’s okay. I’m okay—”

But in his guilt, Ryan backed away from her. He bolted out of the enclosed office and towards the rest of the fight that had finally moved into the other room.

“Ryan!” Helena called, even as he was escaping her. With difficulty, she got back onto her feet.

She was startled half out of her skin when Ben was flung into a nearby wall, making her scream and duck for cover as debris and office supplies exploded as a result. She took another painful spill across the floor. And rolling out of her inside pocket of her jacket came a small, green vial of V24.

Her eyes zeroed in, just before her hand closed around it. She dragged herself off the floor and back onto her feet, and then towards Ben, who was growling and shaking the dust off. He was prepared to head back into the fray, where the rest of them were still fighting Homelander. Ryan was hovering at the edge, scared and worried, no matter who got punched or tossed.

That’s it, Helena thought. Fuck it all.

“Ben,” she said raggedly, earning his attention. “Can you do me a favor?”

She went to him and offered him the tail end of a syringe she’d been storing in her other pocket. It was a miracle that it hadn’t broken in her tumbles.

“Out of the fucking way,” he barked, after he eyed her in irritation. Clearly, I’m busy, his face suggested.

She took one of the biggest chances of her life and grabbed his arm.

“Please! I need your help,” she said.

He looked down at her through furrowed brows, asking a silent question with his eyes. Why me?

Her hand was shaking. She really just couldn’t bring herself to inject her body full of poison…but she had to.

“I don’t want to be anyone’s weakness. I don’t want to be collateral damage,” she said. “But more than anything, I’m sick of being afraid.”

She grabbed his hand and put both the vial and the syringe in it.

“Goddamn it, Ben, just do it!” she said, through tears.

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed her arm, found a vein, and did his best to inject her correctly. But when that vile shit hit her system, she nearly collapsed.

“Fuck,” he muttered, but he kept her upright. She shuddered, her eyes briefly closing. All the while, Ben’s grip remained steady. Inside, however, he didn’t know why the fuck he was doing this.

It felt too close to being soft. But maybe it was because a part of him, deep down (a part he didn’t want to think about), wanted to prove he was still some kind of hero. Or maybe, it was because he felt like he was repaying a debt.

When the pain subsided, her body hummed with chemical electricity in her blood. She breathed through it and nodded.

“Thank you,” she said. After a short hesitation, his hands fell from her. Ben responded with a nod.

He turned on his heel and was about to head back into the battle fray, but was hit with a star bolt. It pushed him back a few feet but didn’t bring him down. His head snapped up with annoyance. Helena looked over with wider eyes to find Annie, now joined by Frenchie, Kimiko, Hughie. M.M. sideswiped Helena, forcing her out of the way while Kimiko and Annie surged forward against Ben.

With the temporary V coursing through her veins, Helena was finally strong enough to push back against M.M., making him stumble. He stared back at you in surprise.

“Are you on V?” he asked. “Did you just shoot the fuck up?”

Her lips pursed. She couldn’t deny it, nor would she.

“You know it’s fatal after a few doses, right?” he said tersely.

Helena’s eyes widened. She looked over at Butcher, who was still fighting Homelander and taking hot lasers to the arm, blocking his face.

She didn’t know how many doses he’d taken, but she could hazard a guess.

Too many.

Ben startled them both by tossing both Annie and Kimiko at opposite ends of the room. He stalked forward, ignoring her and M.M. in order to get to Homelander.

M.M. tensed up, like he was about to follow the supe, but Helena grabbed his arm.

“Look, I know what he did to you, but let him at least end Homelander, for fuck’s sake!” she snapped.

“Do you want the entire building to blow the fuck up?” he shot back. He gestured over at Ryan, still huddled against the wall. “Try to get him out of here first!”

On that, they could agree.

Just then, Homelander tore through the room with his laser vision, regardless of who or what he hit. When the beam swept across the middle and went for Ryan on the other side, Helena ran to him and had them both dive for the ground. She protected his head.

Meanwhile, Butcher grabbed the supe by the cape in attempt to bring him to heel. Ben came up on the other side and pinned him down to the ground while Homelander fought both of their holds.

Ryan turned onto his side after Helena raised off of him. He looked up at her with wide eyes, but there was guilt behind them, lingering from when he pushed her.

“Why…why are you and Butcher here? Why do you hate my dad?” he asked. His voice was so small and upset, it made tears well up in Helena’s eyes.

“I’m here because I care about you,” she said. “Homelander’s not your father. Not really. He’s the reason you and your mom were alone for all those years. He’s the reason she couldn’t be with Billy, and why you had to grow up alone. Your mom was protecting you from him.”

Tears stung at Ryan’s eyes as well. He bit his lip and shook his head; he didn’t want to believe her.

“You’re wrong,” he said tremulously. “He’s…he’s not mad at me for what happened to Mom. For…”

Helena had to try and swallow past a tight ball of emotion. She was about to respond when an iron grip tangled in her hair and grabbed her up. A shriek tore from her throat as she was yanked to her feet and almost off the ground. Her hands flew up to claw at Homelander’s.

Ryan’s eyes flew wide again. He scrambled onto his feet as well and faced his father.

“Stop!” he pleaded. “Don’t hurt her!”

Homelander tilted his head at his son, with a grim set to his face. “Don’t you see? They’re all cockroaches. They’re mud people. Ryan, they’re not like us.”

V24 didn’t take away her fear, Helena realized. It just magnified what was already inside.

“Leave him alone, you son of a bitch,” she hissed, regardless of the terrified, angry tears burning in her eyes.

Across the room, M.M. stared down at Butcher angrily. It was hard to maintain it when the other man had just saved him from getting pounded with Soldier Boy’s shield, but M.M. had a high threshold of “Fuck you, Butcher” leftover.

Despite that, M.M. helped Butcher pick himself up from the rubble. Then he noticed something else.

“Butcher,” M.M. said sharply. Butcher followed his gaze and landed on Homelander; he saw the supe’s killer grip on Helena’s hair, with Ryan pleading at him to stop.

Butcher’s eyes widened. He called her name from across the room.

Slowly Homelander’s head turned.

He smirked. The kind of manic smile that said he’d get to have his revenge twice.

His eyes took on a red, glowing hue.

But a violet haze surged from Helena’s hands, not only disrupting Homelander’s concentration, but forcing him to let go of her entirely. It was a forcefield that threw him back across the far wall.

She stumbled to her feet and would’ve fallen if Ryan hadn’t reached out to steady her. She gave him a grateful smile, and she let her arm fall around his shoulders.

Butcher was shocked, relieved, and angry all at once.

When and how the fuck did she take Temp V?

Despite the look of surprise on most faces in the room, Ben was the only one who remained stoic.

Homelander peeled himself from the wall with a growl. He stalked forward, but he was met with Butcher stepping in front of Helena and Ryan.

Butcher blocked the first punch Homelander threw. He just couldn’t avoid the second brutal one that cracked against his nose. Homelander twisted his arm and wrenched, until Butcher was forced almost to his knees.

“You may be hopped up, but you’re just a try-hard, dick-sucking groupie,” Homelander taunted. “Real power is—”

Ryan stumbled forward and pushed Homelander hard in the chest, enough to make the other man’s grip on Butcher loosen. Ryan moved to stand in front of Butcher and Helena.

“Son?” Homelander asked, with wide, confused eyes.

All the commotion in the room paused. Even the fight against Soldier Boy came to a standstill, including Maeve, who was sporting one eye and a bloody hole where the other used to be (courtesy of Homelander). She propped herself up against the wall and watched Homelander intently.

Soldier Boy watched as well. If he lit up the nuclear power in his chest now, he could make Homelander powerless. But…it would be hard to control it in here. He glanced at Butcher and Helena kneeling on the ground. She’d come to his side and was propping him up, just as his arm was around her protectively.

I don’t want to be collateral damage, she’d said.

Meanwhile, Ryan was scared with tears in his eyes, but he held his ground against his father with determination.

“Stop,” he said. “Please just stop.”

Homelander couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His own son was protecting the one man he hated most in this world.

“But…why?” he asked incredulously. “I’m your blood. I’m…I’m your family.”

Butcher grabbed Ryan’s jacket.

“Ryan, don’t,” he said. Ryan looked over his shoulder at them, at Butcher.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Butcher didn’t entirely know what that meant, but he couldn’t help but marvel when the kid turned back to face his father.

“I understand you, Ryan. Better than anyone,” Homelander said earnestly. He probably even believed that.

Ryan lip wobbled with emotion. He hadn’t realized it, not until Homelander grabbed Helena and threatened to kill one of the only people who’d ever been nice to him. Ryan saw it when Homelander had turned to Butcher next, with something evil in his eyes.

“You’ve hurt everyone I care about,” Ryan realized, with a small gasp of a sob. “You…you hurt my mom.”

Homelander’s eyes soon became glassy, angry, and insane.

“I think you took the fucking cake on that one, sport,” he retorted.

Ryan flinched. Tears poured down Ryan’s cheeks as that blow cut into him.

But he instinctively let those emotions fuel him. He hovered above the ground in flight, almost eye-level with Homelander. His eyes glowed red.

Homelander smirked through unshed tears. He supposed it was fine; he’d been prepared to rule through fear before.

You don’t need anyone, that voice deep inside whispered. Not even Ryan.

And here, Ben finally saw his chance.

“Hey, Real Power,” he snarked, just before he grabbed Homelander by the edge of his cape and headbutted him. After throwing him off balance, Ben kicked him into a glass coffee table, making it shatter. He continued forward and grabbed Homelander by his collar next.

Then he began to charge up that nuclear power in his chest. Homelander grabbed his arm and tried to twist out of his grip, but Ben held on in determination. Maeve helped him by kicking out Homelander’s knee. She and Ben briefly shared a grim look.

“We could’ve taken on the whole world,” Homelander gritted out. Ben smirked.

“Maybe. But I never took well to sharing the spotlight,” he said, and threw another punch that snapped Homelander’s head back. All the while, his chest continued to illuminate and become impossibly hot.

If Ben let go of his power now, he could end Homelander for good. But if he did, he’d probably level the whole block. He glanced over Homelander’s shoulder. Butcher held both Helena and Ryan, waiting to protect them from the impending blast.

Butcher kept Helena close with an arm around her waist. Deep down, Ben reluctantly felt a twinge of jealousy. Until Helena peeked up fearfully and found Ben’s eyes. Even with the power V24 gave her, he doubted it would do them much good.

With that brief distraction, Homelander broke free with an angry shout.

“Goddamn it,” Ben growled.

While the other supe tried to fly backwards to save himself, Ben rushed forward and leapt, grabbing the supe in mid-air. They both crashed through the far window out of the Tower.

Ben blasted him with everything he had.

Homelander tried to fight off his hanger on, but the power behind the blast disrupted his own, including his flight.

And from that great height, Soldier Boy and Homelander fell. Whatever wasn’t contained by the two of them grappling hit the rest of the Tower behind them.

Inside the building, Helena managed to draw up a forcefield that protected them all from the initial blast. Whatever she couldn’t cover was eaten away, leaving a giant hole in the side of the building. Butcher looked up at the violet haze, then at her with consternation.

“Oh, don’t even,” she snapped at him. “One dose of Temp V won’t kill me.”

His lips pursed, but he still helped her up to her feet, along with Ryan. Helena checked the boy to make sure he was all right. She brought her hands up to his cheeks and held his face.

“You okay?” she asked.

Ryan smiled a little a nodded. “Yeah.”

She smiled back. “Good.”

Butcher’s lips twitched. He laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, but he also moved a hand down to the small of Helena’s back, earning her attention. For a moment, their eyes met. That look was charged with unspoken meaning, cutting through things like, “I told you so,” and “What were you thinking?” And, “You ass.”

But the common denominator of it all was this.

Butcher tugged her close for a hard kiss. His beard was rough, his grip was tight, but his lips were tender. She responded in kind, gripping the shorter hair at the back of his head and matching his passion with her own.

He pulled away after a moment, meeting her eyes with a silent request. She held his cheek, and she nodded. Later they would hash the rest of this out, but for now, this was enough.

Butcher then turned to Ryan and took a knee in front of him.

“You don’t hate me anymore?” Ryan asked, in a small voice.

Butcher sighed, wiping a hand over his tired face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “for what I said last time. What happened to Becca, to your mum…it ain’t your fault, son.”

Ryan’s eyes glistened with tears. He sniffed, and Butcher squeezed his shoulder.

“Look, kid. I’m not a good man. Christ, you’re already a better one than me. But, as long as you want me around…I’m here for ya.”

Ryan hugged him. Butcher was surprised by it at first, but slowly, he let himself hug Ryan back.

Helena teared up and laid a gentle hand on Butcher’s back. Hughie even came up on her left to nudge her shoulder. She smiled and patted his arm back. The others, though battered, bruised, and in some cases bloody, had gotten back on their feet.

“Butcher, we gotta go,” M.M. reminded him. “Homelander and Soldier Boy damn dear exploded the block down there.”

Homelander’s crash landing had created a crater inside the ground outside of Vought Tower. Coils of smoke came off of his body, as most of his uniform was burnt off, along with a good part of his neck and torso.

Butcher stood over him, creating a shadow that Homelander couldn’t escape. Homelander opened his eyes wide, as if to laser him, but nothing came out.

His eyes widened in shock this time. “What the fuck…”

He crawled out of the crater, his uniform in tatters. He managed to stumble to his feet and throw a punch at Butcher, who easily dodged.

The blast had done its job. Homelander was a powerless mess. That realization dawned on the man, and soon had him frothing at the mouth in disbelief. Butcher pulled out a gun from his belt, a formerly useless gun, and shot Homelander in the head. Right between the eyes.

Homelander’s body fell to the ground, just as Helena came out of the building with Ryan. With a gasp, she shielded the boy’s eyes.

“Don’t look,” she told him. Ryan allowed himself to bury his face against her chest, biting his lip as a few tears escaped and soaked into her shirt.

Grace Mallory showed up minutes later with two SUVs of CIA agents for the cleanup—not only to set a perimeter around the crater, but to take Homelander’s body. Helena had Mallory steer Ryan away, though she promised to check on him soon.

Helena was going to join where Butcher, M.M., and the rest of them had gathered next, but she noticed something. There were drops of blood leading away from the crater, into a nearby alley.

With suspicion churning in her gut, she followed the trail into the alley. By now it was still dark outside, even with the sun starting to peek out from between the city skyscrapers. The deeper part of the alley was still cast in darkness.

A hand shot out and grabbed her by the waist, at the same time another covered her mouth. She gasped and was about to scream, when she came face to face with Ben. He shushed her.

She frowned at him with furrowed brows.

“Ben?! What the hell?” she hissed between his fingers and tried to pry them off. He eventually let her go. He still had a supe’s strength, so she could assume that the blast had only taken away Homelander’s powers, not Ben’s.

“What are you doing?” she asked, both incredulous and annoyed. “Are you okay?”

He gave you an amused smirk. “I’m fine.”

He hadn’t been sure what she would do when she saw him. Ask about his wellbeing wasn’t it, but it had smugness welling up in his chest. It seemed like she didn’t hate him too much after all.

“I know all about the Mob Squad’s genius plan to gas me up and stuff me in a goddamn box,” he said, less pleasantly. “That’s not fucking happening.”

Helena’s lips pursed. “So what are you going to do?”

Maybe she didn’t want to see him in a box either, and maybe he’d just done the entire world a solid by taking out Homelander, but that didn’t mean Ben wasn’t dangerous all on his own.

“I’m taking my well-earned vacation,” he said. His smirk deepened. “But two tickets to paradise could be arranged.”

Helena sighed with a smile, shaking her head.

“I don’t think so, Ben,” she said, though she tilted her head at him. “You could be a real hero, you know. If you did the work.”

He stared down at her for a moment. He eventually quirked a grin.

“A lot of your friends would call that a lost cause,” he said.

“Prove your father wrong. Prove me right,” she said, raising a brow. “I dare you.”

“Hmm,” Ben said. He considered her as his smirk softened slightly, into a more sincere smile.

Instead of answering her, he slid a hand around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She gasped and held onto his arms on reflex. It gave him the opening he needed to steal a kiss.

Helena was too shocked to heed her first instinct, which was to slap him in the face.

He soon pulled away, giving her another familiar smirk at her angry, blushing face.

But after he stroked her cheek and finally let go of her, she realized that this was a goodbye.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart,” said Ben.

He backed away from her, deeper into the darkness of the alley. She couldn’t see him well, just the outline of his broad form, but she thought she heard the last bit of his voice.

“Goodbye, Helena.”

And then he was gone.

AN: Sigh. Thus ends Homelander, son of no one. How did you like Ben and Helena's goodbye? 😂

We're at the end, folks.

Next Time:

When his gaze found hers, they didn’t need words.

They were home.

His head bowed to greet Helena with a kiss, languid and unhurried.

His hand moved under the sheets to slip under her silky top, splaying across her lower back. Her arm twined around his neck in turn, her fingers slipping into his dark hair. Hers was already wild this morning; it both tickled his arm and fanned across her pillow.

She nipped his bottom lip and earned a pleased sound from him, deep in his throat. But before he could roll her onto her back, they heard quick footsteps coming up the stairs.

Butcher groaned, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder. But a smile twitched at his mouth.

“Incoming,” he muttered.

Keep Reading: Epilogue

The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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54 notes · View notes

pacentia · 5 months

Text

Pairing: female human!reader x Homelander

Setting: somewhere post season 3

Synopsis: just a lil drabble about providing John the home and the family that he so desperately craved.

Tags: nsfw cause it's Homelander, sweetness, intimacy, love, Homelander has his kids, Homelander relaxes for once

Note: my boyfriend made me watch The Boys. Little did he know I was going to develop a pathological crush on a broken homicidal maniac ❤️

“Daddy, look!”

It was a simple word that John was never going to take for granted. A word that his super-hearing could pick out of a thousand voices from miles away. If any -fucking- one would ever dare lay a hand on his beautiful and pure daughter - John swore he was going to -

“John, get out of your head.” You smiled at your lover, America’s most powerful superhero, the man that you called your husband. He lounged on the patio of your spacious mansion in Long Island, American flag waving in the wind, overlooking the big green gated garden in which your baby girl Jane was playing and running around. At last, he was finally enjoying a day off from all of those idiot cocksuckers at Vought, his words.

John’s stoic face snapped into a broad smile, accompanied by a million micro-expressions when you joined from the kitchen, bringing freshly baked chocolate cookies into the scene. Honest to God, he had everything that his pained heart missed in front of him: a perfect wife, his son Ryan, and his baby Jane. The young girl’s eyes widened, and she ran like a speedster to the source of the smell.

“When your daughter asks you to look, you better look.” You grinned, placing a soft kiss on his unruly blond locks, taking a bite from one of your cookies. John grinned to himself, and reached out his strong arms to his daughter, inviting the girl in his arms. She didn’t hesitate to jump right in his lap. “Here, a flower for daddy.” Jane giggled, placing a pink flower in his blonde hair.

The combination of a pink flower decorating his hair, and the violent background that he possessed was quite a hilarious contrast. The Supe didn’t give two fucks about that, he’d let his daughter put a whole fucking flower crown on his head. Anything she wanted was law. Your children were incredibly spoiled, because John wanted everything for them that he’d never got to experience. He had a rocky start with Ryan, but John had learned patience in time, much against his own nature.

You weren’t related to Ryan in any way, but you knew what had happened 5 years ago when he first released his heat gaze. He went through traumatic stuff, and you were always there to comfort him. His dad taught him how to harness his growing powers over the years, but he was too shy to get introduced to the Seven and Vought and all that shit. Vought was a huge fan in pushing Ryan to follow in Homelander’s footsteps, to become the next commander of the Seven. However, John quickly realized that his son expressed little interest, so he zapped that idea down (much to his own pain).

To the outside world, Homelander was still the same heroic figure. To Vought, he was the same nightmare to deal with.

But you loved him.

All of him. All of his insecurities, his simultaneous God complex, his devious desires and his bloodlust. He was convinced that his kind was the master race, but you, a mere human, held a special place in his heart. You were his darling girl that was able to give him a home, and accepted him for the fucked up man that he was. He had already incinerated and executed people for you. It’s a way he showed his devotion to you.

And he’d do anything to keep that little princess in his arms safe, no matter the cost. Same with Ryan, and with you.

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #dadlander #the boys #homelander fanfiction

123 notes · View notes

deliciouskeys · 8 months

Note

Co-parenting Butchlander is a bad idea for canon even if done in the tamest way possible and I feel like this needs to be said because this shit is getting out of hand to disturbing levels.

Homelander is the rapist.

He doesn't have custody of Ryan. He doesn't and shouldn't have rights to him. After getting Becca (Ryan's actual parent) killed, and against her wishes, he has stolen or in other words kidnapped Ryan.

Ryan is not his to take and shouldn't be viewed as such. Just think rationally for a split second on this.

Do you think a rapist should have rights to custody of a child they force on someone just because that person chose to keep it or god forbid, couldn't manage to get an abortion? Do you think it would be okay for that rapist to then kill the mother or get her killed and steal the child simply because he wants to be a dad?

That's not cute. It doesn't matter what the rapist's backstory is, that's horrifying and wrong and so gross on so many levels.

And look, it's fine if you want to romanticize this idea for fics but that is the one and only place it should be framed this irresponsibly. Because it is a bad idea with horrible implications that shouldn't be rose tinted into something adorable just because there are a few moments Homelander isn't pushing Ryan off a roof.

And you cannot complain about canon treating Becca badly when you advocate for this in canon.

This would be so much worse by make her nothing more than an incubator for the kid of the guy who raped her and then steals her husband. And that is disgusting.

Can we not forget that Ryan and Becca are both victims here, for once?

Romanticize it all you want in fics. It does not belong in canon.

Context link: My dumb crack idea for a Diabolical episode that Anon is referring to

“Co-parenting Butchlander is a bad idea for canon”

Maybe it doesn’t really matter for this discussion, but : I wouldn’t consider Diabolical “canon”. They had an episode about a woman talking to her poop, with a Deep cameo because it involved a sewer. It’s not canon.

“He doesn’t have custody of Ryan”

Well… okay, this is interesting, Ryan is in his custody as of end of season 3, whether HL has legal custody or not. In fact, NYS law is particularly lax and kind of messed up in the sense that you need a rape conviction to be deprived of your parental rights to a child that is genetically yours (and wasn’t made via a sperm bank). So not that it changes things ethically, but legally speaking HL may have legal claim here until someone convicts him of rape or CPS finds his parenting criminally negligent/inappropriate.

“Do you think it would be okay for that rapist to then kill the mother or get her killed and steal the child simply because he wants to be a dad?”

Do I think it’s “okay” ethically, morally, legally? Hmmmmmm, idk, what do you think I think, Anon? I’ll clear it up and say: no, I don’t . But am I watching and enjoying a show that already portrays this fucked up scenario? Yes, I am.

“You cannot complain about canon treating Becca badly when you advocate for this in canon”

Were you up in arms about this Amazon video?

youtube

Because it’s along the same ‘teehee this is so fucked up’ humor lines that you are clearly revolted by. If you were, then okay, at least you are consistent. And I’m going to chalk it up to different tolerance/interest levels about fucked up scenarios.

Come off anon if you still think I’m being glib and “romanticizing” dead incubators. I promise I’m not that scary to talk to off-anon. I even promise to hear you out if I’ve misunderstood the problem you have with my hypothetical dumb spin-off plot that wouldn’t be part of canon. You’re allowed to disagree.

#out of the cozy corner and into the hornets nest #Anon you may have a point but I think we’re semantically disagreeing on the word ‘canon’ for one thing #and I think you may be underplaying how fucked up the canon already is #I think you may also be misapplying the blanket word ‘romanticizing’ here but okay #thanks for the ask!#not a sarcastic tag #homelander meta #homelander #the boys #the boys tv

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sharonisthebettercarter · 3 months

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Homelander this, Billy Butcher that. How about Ryan huh? His entire life, so far he had the pressure of being watched. In the compound he had to live in hiding from his mom's rapist and his spermdonor, until the end of season 1. Then in the end of season 3 and now 4, he becomes chained to Homelander and will have to follow him and his plans, though in a way Ryan will be blind to his shackles as he will be so obsessed with having a father after losing his only blood parent and after billy gaslighted him, unless ryan ditches Homelander's ass. If he finally runs away, until he finds a friendly group of people who will take him in and not hinder him, will really only deluding himself that he is finally free, or with zoe if his fondness for her is well known, it's a only a matter of time till Homelander (and Billy) ruins it.

oh goodie, i'm glad you asked this one actually--

this is called history repeating itself.

and it happens when we fail to address the root of a problem and allow cycles to perpetuate themselves. the theme is that becca didn't want ryan to become his father (or billy for that matter)

she literally chose to run away from her own husband and *ask VOUGHT* of all things for *help* because she knew his psycho revenge rampage bullshit would be awful for her and ryan (and she was 1000% right about that) and to make sure ryan would remain a secret.

and wouldn't you know, it's funny how that works out. butcher and his obsession ended up being the catalyst for homelander digging deeper--and discovering becca and ryan... but i digress.

and now ryan is in danger... of becoming his father.

mostly because of what his father went through, those issues never getting addressed, and then said father unknowingly bringing ryan into that world without realizing what it's going to do to him.

but here's the thing, homelander has no control over that. even if ryan managed to escape homelander and butcher (and if i'm being honest, even before then because isolation and sheltering to that degree is not helpful for a child), he'd still have to contend with a world designed to mistreat him and repeat the same cycles. both men are awful for him as is, sure. but so is the rest of the world and that's not going to change just because they die or disappear.

and if ryan becomes his father, well...

that's just the kind of thing we can expect. with or without them.

"those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

#ryan butcher #homelander #and so on #and so forth #history repeats itself #billy butcher #the boys #the root of the problem #is the system in place #which fails to help victims when they need it #billy and homelander were once ryan too #the fact that it was never addressed is what has put ryan in danger now #and will continue to leave him in danger #even after they are gone #if he doesn't die first...

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super-hero-confessions · 5 months

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The Boys fandom! Please kindly pull your heads out of your asses!

Wanting Billy Butcher and Homelander to "begrudgingly co-parent Ryan" is a sick, twisted, and disgustingly inappropriate idea for the show.

It is fine for fanfiction.

It needs to stay in fanfiction and be buried by it.

Think rationally for two seconds, and realize that you are asking not just for two murderous, monstrous, sociopaths to get together and somehow not fuck up an innocent child beyond all belief as they are already very clearly doing.

But you are also asking.

For a guy who's wife was raped.

To set his differences aside with the rapist.

To take care of the rape baby with him.

After the rapist got his wife killed.

And stole the child.

Bad. Wrong. Disgusting. Please please please no ew gross keep that shit out of canon what the actual fuck is wrong with you people???

No. No. And absolutely not. I don't care how many "cute" moments they put in between Ryan and Homelander as their calm before the shitstorm. That "Dadlander" shit needs to stay the fuck out of canon if the show is going to be held together by any sort of logical thread.

Homelander is NOT a father. He is NOT a dad.

He's a fucking RAPIST and SPERM DONOR who got the mother KILLED and STOLE the child.

THE CORRECT VIEWING OF THAT SITUATION IS TO RECOGNIZE THAT RYAN IS A HOSTAGE.

Homelander does NOT have custody. He is NOT owed custody. He is NOT Ryan's parent or guardian. It doesn't fucking matter how "kind" or "tender" he is with Ryan. Ryan is NOT his child.

HOMELANDER IS THE RAPIST WHO GOT RYAN'S MOTHER AND ONLY ACTUAL PARENT KILLED. AND THEN STOLE RYAN.

If you wanna write Butcherlander AUs that go into that deranged romanticized nonsense, have fun. Have as much fucking fun as you want!

But STOP pretending that this is an actual good idea for canon or even hoping for it to happen. Because not only is it not going to happen, it sure as hell should NOT E V E R happen.

Homelander is a RAPIST and KIDNAPPER.

Ryan is his HOSTAGE.

That is how the situation would be viewed if it were real life. That is how the situation SHOULD be viewed in canon, except amplified to 100 thousand million fucking times worse because of the superhuman aspect.

BECAUSE THAT IS HOW IT IS BEING PORTRAYED YOU SICK FUCKS.

The only exception, ONLY EXCEPTION, is them adding this framed and portrayed as something HORRIFIC and BAD.

BECAUSE THERE IS NOTHING MORE ATROCIOUS IN WRITING THAN AN UNIRONICALLY ROMANTICIZED HORROR STORY THAT SEES NOTHING WRONG WITH ITSELF.

But for the love of rationality, please. PLEASE stop being this disgustingly dense and callous towards what is happening and has happened to Ryan and his MOTHER in canon.

People love to complain about how badly the show has treated Becca Butcher, but fandom really fucking takes the cake there! Between the rape apologists and this fucking shit, the writers got NOTHING.

Congrats you fucking hypocrites asking for this, sincerely STOP.

#confession #rant #the boys

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bisexualhomelander · 6 months

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despite everything, i'm still human (but i think i'm dying here) - chapter iii

Billy Butcher is coming to town.

He looked at the instruction a fifth time, turned over four pages, back one, read the instruction a sixth time, a seventh, an eighth. Then he closed the book with a groan.

Cracking the eggs was easy. Until a bit of the shell fell into the batter. He tried to fish it out, but he couldn't, and now his hand was dirty. The butter in the pan was slowly melting. He wracked his brain trying to remember how Rebecca had made their breakfast pancakes. Her hands had been so sure, and she'd managed to flip the batter in the pan. The taste still lingered on his tongue. His batter still had egg shell in it.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, angry at himself for getting teary-eyed at such a small inconvenience.

It was beneath him, making pancakes, but a few days ago, he had witnessed Ryan making himself cereal in the morning because Homelander himself had slept half the morning away, his exhausted body finally giving up and forcing him to calm down for a bit. His ten-year-old son had had to make food for himself because his father was too incompetent to operate the fucking stove, and that was the truth of it.

So he'd flung himself out of the sheets first thing in the morning, trying not to hear the mean chuckle coming from the general direction of the mirror while brushing his teeth. He only ever ate when he became suddenly dizzy, not accustomed to true hunger. His organism needed nutrients in greater amounts now that he'd lost his supe metabolism, yet he never felt he wanted anything. Hardly anything looked appetizing, and food itself tasted boring. Vought brought groceries, but they also brought take-out, mostly. He hated how heavy his stomach felt after it was filled. Food was a nuisance.

It didn't matter. Ryan should not have to cook for himself, so he had taken on meal-duty.

He had just gotten the egg shell out with a fork when he heard the quiet tap of naked feet on the floor. "Dad?" Ryan came down the stairs, still rubbing his eyes.

Homelander schooled his face into his best paparazzi grin. "Mornin', son! Your old man's making... um... he's making breakfast!"

Ryan's face lit up. "Pancakes?"

"You know it, champ!" His heart was beating fast enough to make him lightheaded. Why couldn't he just follow the fucking recipe? He could hardly remember how it went! "Just like... Just like your mom."

He could have bitten his own tongue off for those words when he witnessed first-hand how Ryan's face fell. Great job, tiger! Well done! Couldn't have done that better myse-- SHUT UP

"I'm... I'm trying to make them the way I know you enjoy them. The big fluffy pancakes. With whipped cream and orange juice."

Ryan took a look at all the ingredients strewn across the kitchen and inclined his head. "Can I cook with you?"

For just a moment, the mortification at being patronised by his son made him hold his breath. Why would you let him get away with this?, said the voice in his mind. He shooed the Other away. Ryan meant well. He meant well because he loved him. And feared him. And loved him. He realized he'd been silent for too long and made to reply: "Absolutely. We'll make breakfast together. Come on!"

Ryan was quiet for a while as they worked. Homelander busied himself with whisking the batter around more than necessary, but it felt like he was doing something. Ryan wanted to be the one to pour it into the pan. "I actually want to ask you something," his son began. The hesitation made Homelander a little uneasy, but what did not currently? Ryan was watching the batter slowly take on the form of a pancake. But he looked Homelander in the eyes when he spoke. "I want to invite Billy here. Just for lunch. He's very ill, and I don't know how much I can still see him."

"You... You hate Billy. You hate him for what he said to you. He was cruel, he was-"

"So were you, Dad! Sometimes, adults say things they don't mean, right? I do, too. I told Mom I hated her once. I didn't mean that at all! It's just... It's all so hard. If Billy dies, that's like Mom dies again, right? I want it to feel like a family. Just this once. And I want you two to not yell. I just want one normal thing, is that too much to ask?" Ryan's voice had gotten louder and louder the longer he went on, and by now, he was nearly sobbing. His pupils emitted a small glow. Homelander knew Ryan wasn't even aware of that fact.

Pictures of happy families flashed somewhere in the hind part of his mind. Families on Easter. Families on Thanksgiving. Families on Christmas. Families on the 4th of July. Laughing faces. Turkey legs. Brussels sprouts. Sausages. White teeth. White shirts. White collars. White crocheted doilies. It was 1994 again, and he'd just killed a woman. He blinked, and the image was gone. "Okay." It was his voice that spoke, but he could hardly feel the syllable flow from his tongue.

"Yeah?" Ryan's face regained some happiness. "You'll allow me to invite him?"

As though he had any control over what Vought permitted to happen in his cabin in the woods. His very home.

"We should-" He shook the last of the confusion from his brain. "We should see if the pancakes are ready to be flipped. Then we can talk about it, alright?"

The pancakes were good. They weren't nearly half as good as Rebecca's pancakes had been, but they were edible. He'd whipped some cream himself, and he enjoyed the consistency. So did Ryan, apparently. He scooped seven spoonfuls onto his pancakes, covering everything. He was constantly starving as of late. Growth spurts slowly setting in. It would come with a further development of his powers, and if Vought found out about that, then they'd take him and-

He nearly choked on the food in his throat as he swallowed.

They could not leave the premises, but they were allowed to ask for what was required. Ryan usually used the VoughtAssist. It was a wireless device with a microphone and a connection to the Online Vought Marketplace; upon rattling down grocery lists, packets with food and other things would suddenly appear on the stairs leading to their home. He was accustomed to this level of comfort; it was normal to him and also to Ryan (who had grown up in a compound, a more beautiful cage than he had had) that things simply appeared as needed. Supermarkets and grocery shops were a plot device in the cinema to meet love interests at the checkout. He would have enjoyed the ongoing service, had it not been for the Vought brand name on all the packages - a menacing presence that he had nothing to put up against.

One time, Ryan asked for Lego, and it was promptly delivered.

His son laid out all the pieces on the wooden floor and sat down on the old rug. Homelander stood stock-still at the outskirts of the room.

When he'd gotten the cabin, back in the mid-2000s, he had always dreamed of seeing his children on that very floor, surrounded by loving pets (always dogs and always Golden Retrievers), playing and giggling - filling the home with the sound of love. That fantasy had faded with time. The setbacks of his supposed infertility and the mounting stress of his existence among the mudpeople had made him part with that beautiful outlook. And here, entirely unexpected, was Ryan - his son - on the floor, playing. Not a full baseball team of kids like he'd dreamed, and no wife to speak of, and no pets. But it was as close to perfection as anything had come in forever, and his feet carried him to where Ryan was on auto pilot.

"Are you making a movie?"

"I am creating a story. But I have plot holes."

He knelt on the ground next to his son, hands in his lap. "I worked in Hollywood. I think I can help."

Ryan had many questions, not just about the plot holes: will they get me cameras to make stop motion films? Vought will get you everything you want. They'll treat you like a little king. What is Granddad's actual name? It was Benjamin, as far as I know. What would you have named me if you had gotten the chance? Ryan was a good choice, and your mom had done good. Do you have a name? I'm Homelander. Not John.

By the end of the day, Ryan had ordered three cameras, a bunch of flash drives, and his phone call with William Butcher.

"I want you to come," Homelander heard him say. "And I really, really need you to bring the old box from Aunt Grace. You know the one. I have my old toys in it, and I'd like to have them here. Looks like we'll be staying a while. Yeah, the one that looks like a cookie tin, but has my toys in it. Thanks for coming! We'll make pancakes!"

William did end up visiting them, and Homelander was ashamed to admit that he wanted to run. He splashed cold water in his face, looking at himself in the mirror. His hair had grown out so much that he'd had to cut it a few times, and by now there was no dye left anywhere. Dirt blond. Yeah. Fitting. The further he leaned away, the blurrier his surroundings got. He put the glasses back on. He looked like shit. William would no doubt hound him about his look, and what did he have to put up against it? Joke about his brain falling to pieces? Ryan would certainly appreciate their bickering.

When he looked up, it was his old face staring back at him. How did he still manage to be blond? And wear the suit? I'll do it for you, tiger. Just sit back and let me at the gear shift.

No, he wanted to stay. He wouldn't leave his son alone with this maniac of an Englishman. He'd already stolen him away once.

It hurt, the way Ryan flung himself into William's embrace the second he stepped in. Homelander averted his gaze, instead watched the black Vought vehicle drive off that had deposited William on their driveway.

"You've grown, lad." William ruffled Ryan's hair, and Homelander wanted to scream. There was the tiniest bit of pressure behind his eyes, almost like a reminder of his lasers. He should have killed the man when he'd had the chance, he should have-

"Oi."

"Fuck off, William."

"You look different."

He forced himself to actually get a glimpse of William in front of him. "You look like you're dying."

William smiled that crooked smile of his. "Yeah well, we all are. Not how we imagined though, hm?"

They were both forcing themselves into an ill-fitting suit of courtesy around Ryan, and it showed. They probably weren't deceiving him, but hopefully he'd appreciate their tries.

He'd practiced the pancake recipe many times before William's arrival, so he wouldn't ruin the food in front of him. By now, he could do it by himself, and in a fashion that was cool enough. He looked like he'd done it often, and that was worth everything.

Ryan bustled around the kitchen, dragging William along from time to time. The mood in the kitchen was bizarre, to say the least, but the boy's happiness was contagious. They found themselves talking, even if it was technically Homelander talking at Ryan, then Ryan talking at Billy. But the topics remained pleasant. of course Homelander wasn't a fuck-up of a mudperson. Of course William wasn't dying because his brain was slowly falling apart. And of course Ryan didn't sometimes scrunch his nose at the same moment William pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed one of his ears or a nostril.

"Well, ain't that a good lunch," William announced as they sat there, trying to get the food down around the lies clogging their throats like hair did to shower drains. "Compliments to the chef," he said to Ryan, who had helped. Homelander froze, but William spared him no glance.

"I'm really sorry," Homelander heard Ryan say as they were washing up dishes. "I didn't mean the things I said to you, Butcher. I... I forgot the rule."

William chuckled. "Yeah, I forget it meself. I shouldn't have said what I said."

"We were both being c-"

"Alright-y!" Homelander announced and clapped his hands. "That was fun, boys."

Ryan blinked at him, and William blew out air through his nostrils in amusement. "Boy's old enough to swear under parental guidance, dont'cha agree?"

"Not in my house."

"Ain't exactly yours, right? Vought brings me here, Vought picks me up. Vought cleans your little Barbie dream house. Do you even have a plan? Or does your son got to do everything by himself?"

"Butcher!" Ryan was at William's side in an instant, shoving him, albeit very carefully.

"Don't you worry, Ryan. I didn't forget your gift."

The cookie tin switched owners, and Ryan looked inside to find many toys in there. He smiled and hugged Butcher, and the mood was saved. Momentarily.

Ryan was inconsolable after William had driven off.

He went to bed, and Homelander - helpless - stayed on the couch for a while and felt numb. He scoured his brain for the right thing to say, but there wasn't really anything that would help Ryan feel better. William was dying, and no amount of pretending it was a long way off would do shit. Homelander was helpless like a boy against his former employer, and his son would be just as much of a victim of them as him.

In the end, he sighed and walked to the fridge. He knew what made him feel better when he was like this, and there was no reason it wouldn't work for Ryan.

A few minutes went by before he knocked on Ryan's door.

There was the faint light of a flashlight under the blanket, where Ryan was sitting, presumably accompanied by a book.

The boy freed himself from the blanket when he heard him come in.

Ryan had cried, that much was obvious. But he wasn't crying right now, just looked at Homelander. His son shone the flashlight at what he had carried in on a platter. Homelander could see his nostrils flare. He was relieved that even if Ryan never used his gifts, he at least used his super senses automatically. "Is that milk with honey?"

"Nightcap."

Ryan scrambled to put his book to the side. He clicked off his little light and instead turned on the overhead light in the room. "Thanks, Dad!"

Homelander sat down at his son's bedside and offered him the glass. It was still hot. For a while, they sat in silence, and Ryan drank. He licked the sweetness off his lips when he was done.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah! Perfect honey-to-milk ratio."

"See? At least one recipe I won't screw up."

Ryan cuddled into his side. "You're actually a decent chef."

"Am I?"

"I assume you never cooked when you worked for Vought, so it's surprising you learned how to."

"Did it for you, buddy."

Ryan looked at his own feet for a bit. "Will Vought teach me how to use my powers? I mean... What do they even want with me?"

Homelander froze. This was not a conversation he was prepared for, and neither was it a conversation he wanted. "They will want you to work for them," he said diplomatically. "Like... Like me. And for that, they will teach you how to use them, yes. They teach all our heroes, so that they can better protect America." It sounded hollow when he said it. He couldn't remember when he had stopped believing the words himself. He had been an adult. Not like Ryan.

"Will they throw me off a building?"

"I... don't think they will." They knew now that that wouldn't work in their favor. He certainly did.

"And I'll have to be a hero?"

"If- If it's what you-"

"I don't wanna be a hero." Ryan sighed. "But I can't learn how to use my powers alone, right?"

"Well, it's difficult. But like I said, I learned most of mine on my own. It took me years, but you... already know plenty about yours. At least you know yours are similar to mine. And you know what my powers are. Were. Were..."

"I'm so scared of them." The words left Ryan in a hush. He pressed his body closer to Homelander. "I'm so, so afraid to use them."

His mouth was dry. He forced himself to speak anyway. "Look, son. They're not just... for fighting. They're not just weapons. They're like senses, you know? You can bite someone with your mouth. But you can also just... taste your drink. The more you get scared, the less control you will have. But they are not there to do you any harm. You can be gentle with them. Like blowing out a candle. They just mean you are very special. You don't have to be scared of the power you wield. It will come to you so naturally, and you know you will learn to love it. Because not having it is like... like never tasting anything."

Ryan closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around him. He was always so gentle. Homelander had needed to train how not to kill someone this way. Ryan seemed to know just like that. His hugs couldn't hurt a fly. "I'm sorry, Dad. I know you loved your powers very much."

"I love you, son."

"Love you too, Dad."

Ryan was worth it. He was worth it. He was. He was. He was. He wasn't. He would always be worth it.

Ryan crawled back under the duvet.

"You know, son. It's not good for your eyes. Reading in the dark, that is."

"I got the flashlight. I'm fine."

"Nooo. It's light's off now, young man. No more reading at this hour." Homelander held his hand palms-up, so Ryan could give him the flashlight.

Ryan looked confused for a second, and then he was no longer confused. Such a smart boy. If anything, he looked a bit apprehensive. But not scared. Homelander was proud of him, but he wouldn't say that now. Ryan had to figure that one out by himself, even if there was a certain giddiness, an inner call to action in Homelander at the mere thought.

They said their good nights, and Homelander gently closed the door behind him.

He was halfway down the stairs before there was another faint glow under the door.

It was darker than the flashlight. A deep, utterly satisfying crimson.

"Lights out, hm? Never listening to his old man..."

For the first time in a long time, he actually felt that a smile came to him all on its own. He poured himself the rest of the milk and sat down on the couch, one foot bouncing gently to the rhythm of an old song he remembered.

#homelander #ryan butcher #my writing

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outoftouchsoldier · 2 months

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Question for admin

So, we know he will have a non verbal Cameo at the end of season 4, and I personally think it's him waking up. And I am curious about what they will do with him.

Do you think Ben will be redeemed? Or will they make him worse?

Also do you think he can be redeemed? (One general TB levels)

/ / I won't lie, that's news to me. I wasn't aware of any of that, I haven't really seen anything about it. I try my absolute best to stay away from things like that because I like having the surprise and freaking the fuck out.

But I do think that there is a chance he could be redeemed. We've seen a vulnerability to Ben (and sure, we've seen that with Homelander and we know there will definitely be no redeeming him). Ben shows a lot of regret and whether anyone likes to admit it or not, he was done wrong at the end of season three. Butcher should have told him about Ryan, but he didn't. As far as Ben was concerned, Ryan was Homelander's kid and just like him, therefore there was no saving him.

Ben has a lot of regret and now he has to actually face the music and come to terms with the fact that his whole time as a Supe was a lie and Vought fucked him over, there is a way he could either be his own team or be a part of The Boys again.

See this is the thing with him, Vought told so many stories about what Ben did over the years so much so that Ben's ego inflated in such a way where he began to truly believe the shit they spouted. And that stemmed from his father and that no matter what Ben did, he was always told he was a disappointment and could never do anything to change it.

Here, we've been given a character that we're meant to see as "bad" in the end, but there's so many sides to him that other "bad guys" lacked in their character developments that I believe Ben could genuinely do some good in the end given the right circumstances.

But even then, I don't think he'd want to at first. He'd be made to, but in the end he'd stand by the right thing. I mean, he was already trying to do the right thing by killing his own son off anyway even if he was upset about it.

#ooc: LM

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homielander · 2 months

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my time has come to hit you with ryan asks: 1, 2, 8, and a solid 20.

thank you so much for the ask <3

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

i love ryan! idk i don't usually get attached to child characters but when he was like "i don't really hate anyone" 🥺 omg..... he's a baby... i think it works because he presents such a stark contrast to both homelander and butcher (and the actor is also quite good). i particularly loved all the season 2 scenes where ryan was being endearingly sweet and homelander was internally melting down because he had no idea how to connect to this kid. also his earnest repetition of "don't be a cunt" was just excellent, no notes

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

i love that he's a nerd!!! the old-timey movies, the lego re-enactments, listing the states in alphabetical order when he's overwhelmed, breakfast in español.... such fun character details

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

all of the ryan hate after the s3 finale dropped was nuts... leave him alone please! like okay yes i also thought the sinister smile upon seeing his father murder someone brutally was a bit much but have you considered his entire life.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

has ryan ever... hung out with another kid? ever? it seems like becca was his best friend for most of his life. let him hang out with kids his age! he and zoe (victoria's daughter) should be best friends. i also think kimiko and frenchie could be good friends to him! they both have a certain childlike whimsy...

#homelander failparenting ryan is the only reason i'm looking forward to s4 not joking #ryan butcher #the boys #asks #re: 20 i think frenchie would be so awkward abt interacting w a child but then he'd hang out w ryan for 20 mins and come around

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plasticfangtastic · 8 months

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American Royalty. Ch. 4

A Homelander X F! Reader and Dadlander fanfic.

A/N: if ya like to be taglisted plz leave a comment to be notified on the next release. got the writers block and too many wips so here is an early chapter. hope y'all like it. plz check my pin post for prev. chapters.

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

Chapter Four

Seeing Stars

You had him agree to you working three days as his personal chef, and he couldn’t have you Sundays no matter how much he asked.

Within the week you had gotten a letter from your bank telling you that the pending investigation on your account had been closed and now you could access it, it had even accrue significant interest after being untouched for seven years it was better than an early christmas miracle as you sobbed in your bedroom with the letter in hand, you cried in the kitchen after calling a realtor to see an apartment, by the time you seen a couple of apartments you had come home to find an enveloped taped to your door. Inside paperwork and some keys– seeing red for a moment, but as Helena tugged at your shirt, your anger tucked itself away, you held her crying into her shoulder as you finished reading the letter.

Before the month ended, you had moved into a large, renovated and well located 2 bedroom, 1 office, 2 bathrooms apartment in the ground floor of a duplex, it had to be at least eighteen to twenty thousand dollars in rent but he had simply purchase it– writing in his letter that he wouldn’t allow you to continue raising his daughter in the projects or some refurbished new york closet, he had even collected information on local schools in your new neighborhood for you consider, informing you that he would take care of tuition cost.

As you settled in a space so big you had nothing to fill it with, as you watched your daughter actually behave like a seven year old for once, you laid on the floor by the open concept kitchen, feeling the rich wood underneath your skin, staring at the black granite benches and hardwood cabinetry– the floor was even heated! You heard a landing in one of the two thin yards, you knew your daughter was exploring the bathroom, so it felt safe to do this now.

“I’ll have my interior designer come by this week to help you select furniture and stuff.” He said upon entering, distubed by how barren it was, all your belonings in a a dozen boxes total, tucked in a corner of the living room.

“You are a bastard making me indebted to you.” You grumbled.

“I can’t have her live in a broom closet infested with rats. Kids need yards and space.” He looked at the cherry wood panels lining the outdoors, the vines and trees growing in a decent sized yard, extra big by New York standards– you could get her a puppy, a kitten or…?”

“She likes fish.”

“I could have a pond installed.” he said with a smirk crainign his back as he tried to look less imposing as you refused to lift your head from the heated hardwoods– you should be okay with utility bills, I left them on credit for your convenience. Have you had a chance to look at schools?”

“What are you actually planning, John.” You sat back up, switching names had taken him off-guard wondering what angle you were going at him from– haven’t even started work with you and now you are showering me with presents? This is beyond just wanting to see your kid is not like you actually seen her.”

“You said to take things slow.” He didn’t try hiding that devious grin– Ryan… needs a story.”

“Jesus Christ you are sick.” you now had to stand up for real– you want me to play mom to your kid? I don’t even look like him.”

“Genetics are weird. Helena looks like you and Ryan looks like me, like those dogs from ‘Beauty and the Tramp’."He touched your cheek with a bare hand– Can’t wait to see you next Thursday, mom.”

“Oh god…” You chuckle, losing your mind as his hand hurts without a scratch– How are you going to tell this to Helena?”

“Is in early development but the team will take care of it. I need Ryan to attend the same school as Helena so please hurry up.”

He left not before telling you to take Helena to MOMA this saturday at 2 pm, it wasn’t a suggestion or invitation, it was an order

You did as you were told that evening, one of the best schools in the city was under a half hour walk from this cell, knowing Helena had to be enrolled soon didn’t help, and your commute to Lucci had increased but now you could pay for gas and not cry. Sending him a texts about schools to the number he had given you in his many many notes seemed anticlimactic but that was it.

Helana had grown suspicious, but she played dumb and you knew it too, so you both played stupid when you headed to MOMA that weekend.

You just casually came the same day and the same time as Homelander and Ryan were about to have the whole museum closed off as they received a private tour, but he asked you to join them not giving any real explanation for why but nobody questioned, neither kid spoke to each other much if any, Helena simply enjoying the silence, she looked at you as she asked about the pieces but it was Homelander who had the most to say about the works, leaving you left out but happy, you knew that face of his so well, to see it on your daughter’s face made your day.

He had taken the opportunity to discuss your employment not your relationship, giving you list of things Ryan should eat, would not eat, wanted to try and things he wanted to try himself, then your hours and some odd request about handling Ryan’s school lunches being instagram worthy, handing you socials to research for such task.

You started work that following week, the Vought kitchens were top of the line, your job was to meet all of his requirements, some of the chefs that recognized you looked at you with relief and curiosity, wanting to know what had happened to you but you were unwilling to share. That first breakfast was returned with clean plates, even the waiter was shocked when he saw empty plates come out of his penthouse.

It had been so long since you could play with such new equipment, this was it, this was the place you belong in, him or not involved this was your happy place now.

Two weeks had passed.

As you headed for the staff elevator you met Homelander, who had honestly just been waiting for you.

“I got the paperwork sorted… you just have to sign and fill stuff. Nice school! Great stem program not that Helena will find it hard.” he said politely, his posture extra stiff.

“Did you do a background check on her?” you looked around for witnesses.

“Hard not to. Our kid is the captain of the math club… her school team has won most of the math competitions in the last four years. Not to mention the piano recitals, and science competitions” He looked so proud– her grades are perfect. She might be the smartest little girl in the city.”

“She’s the smartest little girl in the world.”

“And her new school would let the whole world know just that.” He said matching your smug.

You watched him carefully waiting for him to spit out what he wanted to say, either about her schooling or something else.

Helena was allowed to continue attending her old school until you were ready for transfer, he had only briefly talked to you for school discussions, and with great disinterest on what made each school good or not, if anything you found yourself doing this for his son as well, thinking of what this school would do for his well being, and if it was the best choice for a homeschooled kid, and how would this new school commute affect Helena’s after school routine.

On the days you didn’t work in Vought’s towers she was still babysat or stayed at Lucci’s, she was too young to be left at home, even if you knew she was perfectly safe, but no matter what she was still little.

During the days you worked in the tower she was kept in the company daycare in the 20th floor, most of the kids there were normal but there was at least one other super-abled child her age, it made you happy to see her interact with a similar kid even if said kid abilities involved phasing thru objects all willy-nilly and make objects phase thru other objects, making you worry of what would happen if he lost focus and Helena got caught inside a wall.

“By the way our kid escaped the daycare.” He held the elevator open for you as he entered, before you could panic he shot you a charming smile– is okay she’s at the gym…”

Your eyes had welled up regardless, you jumped into the metal box pressing the bottom frantically.

“She’s perfectly safe… A-Train is there and so it's that… Noir… her and the only little Supe kid decided to do some mischief, but I kept my ears on her all day.”

Forcing yourself to take deep breaths as the elevator smoothly traveled to the lower floors.

“Is it not her that I am worried for.” you said firmly.

You followed him as he guided you through an unfamiliar floor, inside the large colosseum gym that had been fitted to test somebody’s athletic skills you found your daughter floating in her wavy bubble, but all you saw was your kid swaying in the air.

“Helena get down here immediately!!!” You ran after her reaching for the kid as her bored expression was replaced with embarrassment as she descended into your arms– you cannot run away from daycare!”

“I don’t want to be surrounded by babies.”

“Helena you are a baby!” you squeezed her against yourself, just glad she was still in one piece, you noticed the other small kid in the room– jesus…”

Carrying your kid you reached for the other one, taking his hand.

“Hey sweetie… let me take you back to daycare before your mommy or daddy gets worried.

“Am I in trouble?” he asked meekly.

“No, but Helena is so grounded.”

“Mom!”

“Don’t mom me! You have any idea how dangerous that was!”

“Oh don’t get mad at the kid, she was just acting like a kid. Don’t be such a buzzkill” he mocked you.

“I don’t want or need your opinion– now you got two seconds to explain yourself!”

You began to gently drag yourself and your kid’s victim out of the gym, A-Train absolutely shocked to see anybody talk to Homelander like that.

“Look I had A-Train and Noir come check them out, they were safe!” He chased after you.

“Oh that was your doing.” Helena said– "I really wanted to meet A-Train” she waved innocently at the Supe, who returned the gesture as a true professional– and... Mom… I wanted to see the building, that’s all… sorry I used Elmo to escape… but his powers were just too useful”

“You cannot use people like that.” you said in shock.

“People like being used.” Her words were just cold as she wriggled herself out of your arms, falling without touching the ground, she took Elmo’s hand taking the small kid towards the exit– some people are born serfs.” She mumbled to herself.

Homelander's heart beat violently– oh his daughter was a brat and had a questionable attitude, he hadn’t even interacted much with her, but he was proud. His whole body went light and his smile couldn’t be contained as he saw the small girl with true love in his eyes, this was the moment he saw her as truly his own.

Ryan was still reluctant to accept his father’s philosophy, but this little one understood that she was born better from the start on her own.

She turned around to face you again, little Elmo sucked on his thumb as her eyes glowed pale blue.

“Is it alright if I come to the training gym if I ask permission first?”

“I…”

“Of course all Supe’s should know to keep their powers top notch. You are more than welcome to use the facilities.” Homelander had cut you off, petting the little girl’s head as he approached the duo– Just ask your mother so she doesn’t have a heart attack. Then again this is one of the safest places in all of New York and little Helena over here is perfectly safe, after all I am here.” He said while staring at you.

His voice was sweet, you were defeated as Helena tried to contain that cheshire grin of hers while staring at you– he was your boss , and the Homelander so could you really go against him so publicly?

“You had a terrorist attack in this building… but I guess…” She ignored him again then looked straight at you– I learned something new today.”

A-Train and Noir exchanged concerned looks taking a few step backs, Homelander seemed intrigued to watch your reaction, you gave way, unable to speak, just frustrated as your ex looked just as smug as his kid.

Little Elmo scoot behind her– in the round gymnasium a cement boulder hanged in chains, her eyes glowed the brightest you’ve ever seen, lifting her hand with one quick swipe the boulder broke in half, the dust showing the invisible blade bending light, it gain a blue color as it was touched before fading, she looked so proud of herself, you stared at Homelander and now you understood why nobody had informed you that your daughter was missing. It didn’t sit well with you.

“you’re still grounded for a whole week.”

“But Mom!!”

You had walked into a trap, one you did so willingly, jailed in a nice house, any hope of Homelander being driven away or losing interest in her was gone as he looked at her with pure adoration in his eyes.

You got used to it… this prison was lovely, it was nice to come back to a spacious cell. Homelander had indeed brought his decorator to your house but you didn’t want designer furniture and high end stuff, you kept it simple and cheap, most of your stuff second hand and from Ikea, only relenting to agree with the poor designer over the kitchen, his budget was absurd for the task, only taking advantage to purchase all the appliances of your dreams, you indeed needed a air fryer that matched your splashback.

Helena was happy to have a room that felt like a bedroom, large bookcases that could be filled with her own books, a small courtyard facing her doors, where she now could sit down and read with the breeze in her hair. She seemed happy, euphoric when she began her new school, making you forget what was happening in the background at times.

Homelander would come from time to time to speak to you about mundane stuff and work, his patience saintly as he allowed you to get used to his company once more, just so you could be okay with him entering her life, but then again he was your jailer.

He himself had begun forcing himself into her life when you weren’t around, it was all a matter of timing and perception.

Homelander watched the daycare center, from afar, a much needed service, it occupied a whole floor, the tower employed thousands of people in its 99th floor so there had to be help for those mothers and fathers who needed to work but had children with no babysitters, it was one of the many appealing things about being employed by Vought, and the center offered a variety of activities for all age groups.

Helena saw it as a jungle, all these children just a bunch of savages, keeping Elmo around not because she liked his company but because he was the only other Supe child in her age group, he was a sweet kid, afraid of bugs and that liked to talk about cartoons, frankly it was a challenge to figure out what to do with him. Homelander watched as she taught the kid to play chess, taking hours to explain the basics as the seven year old had very little clue what was happening, but in its own way it was nice to talk to another kid like himself.

Homelander even bothered to do a background check on the child– both of his dad’s both worked at Vought one in hero management and the other in marketing, both very busy bees it seems… he had done the same with all of Ryan’s new classmates, he knew their entire families before his kid even stepped foot and said hello to any of them, all done before he started school the same week as Helena– there was the big issue of her being on the 10th grade while her older brother just began the 6th grade, so he couldn’t enjoy seeing the both of them interacting, it was hard to witness for he wanted both kids to become closer so desperately.

Hence why he was standing on the foyer of the daycare center, a young lady that looked too cheerful for her own good, welcomed Homelander.

“Hi! How can I help you today, Homelander? Are you looking to enroll little Ryan?” She swayed side to side trying to see if the kid was behind him by any chance.

“Actually… am here to speak to one of the kids… hmm… Helena L/N.” He said with a firm tone– I believe her mother left a message.”

Homelander texted you an hour before cominf down, not even asking you that he was going to take her for training, you were stuck in the kitchen helping with some work function taking place tonite, a thousand canapes had to be made and you were stuck with the pistachio and lemon layer cakes.

You had no time to argue, taking your precious break time to make phone calls and try not to use your knife on the nearest asshole who pissed you off afterwards.

She hopped on the desk seeking for any notes, and he was indeed correct.

Now he had her all for himself, you prayed he wasn’t going to drop the news on her, but you couldn’t leave and abandoned your team, she was safe, you had to believe she was safe, she was smart, she was so smart and she could escape him, you just had to trust her.

“Can I bring Elmo?” Helena looked up at Homelander, a slight ache building on her neck as she looked up at the man– he might get lonely.”

“He’s not a dog.” He didn’t even try putting on a soft babied voice with her– and I wanted to talk to you.”

“But he’s always ‘The Dog’ when we play house.” She faked the most innocent voice she could muster, turning around to look at the glass doors dividing the friends– … He will probably sneak out to the gym if he gets lonely, they got his favorite snacks today… he told me liked five times and I think they’re playing Bluey on the tv.”

“Oh! and you play mommy?” He grimaces so hard his eyebrows touch.

“No, the robber.”

He led the way and she was more than happy to explore the building as they headed downstairs.

“What do you think of them?”

“Elaborate.”

“Those without powers.” she wished she could see his expression– and be honest. None of this ‘Wednesday Addams’ crap.”

He looked around at the sea of smart casual fits and stress on the floors above, the world moving so fast paced, nothing but monkeys hurling shiny rocks while playing dress-up.

“They can be useful, if they are not… then they don’t matter to me.”

He smiled, his heart fluttering and his stomach filled with butterflies as he heard her speak– why did Ryan struggle so much to understand this? He thought.

“When you are born with such gifts–

“I might be a kid but I am very familiar with your Compound V, I already had this talk with my mother. Fascinating stuff… I am still trying to understand the whole dosage thing… How does your company decide which kid to give more versus others? Did they just look at who could provide the best backstory before deciding between 10 mils versus the whole vial.”

She stared at the glass walls where the kids were housed, the tone of her voice still flat.

“Why you say that?”

“I’m a poor kid from the projects, with a single mom, formerly homeless and now with enough powers to make Athena envious. Not to mention how 92% of supes are white but the percentage below middle class to poor is almost the same as with the 6% blacks, while the percentage of upper class white supes is closer to the same percentage of 2% asians and latino supes… if anything a good chunk of latino and asian supes are upper class… something-something model minority yadah-yadah.” she pressed the elevator door– I’d make a good story. Shame that I can’t be a Supe.”

Homelander stared at her, placing his hand on the back of her head.

“You can be anything you want, Helena. You have been blessed beyond belief with powers… if you want to be Supe then you are ready for major leagues.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Only the 1% of superheroes ever make it to the major leagues, most supes never achieve anything beside D-list status and everybody is fighting for the crumbs left behind by your posse of clowns– is not a fiscally responsible decision. A career that can only exist on extreme gambling is not one that can make money. Not to mention am not cute or tall." She took the first step into the elevator– I never want my mother to worry about money. I want to buy her a mansion on top of a cliff staring at the ocean, have a dozen maids care for the house and she can just spend the rest of her life in luxury”

She turns to see him crossing her arms with a serious look on her tiny face.

“My goal is to take your job.”

“The Seven?” He grinned.

“Vought.”

“I can wait to see you try.” he grinned.

“It won’t be that hard… At least when I am in charge security will be tighter.”

Bottles of V dropped from above Homelander’s head, he caught most of them but a few were lost, those were hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of drops staining his pants and shoes, Helena caught one bottle, sliding it between nimble fingers back and forth.

“Don’t look so surprised, it seems this is a common occurence… Here's an unwanted tip: use biometrics and only allow lab techs to enter the 67th floor, not just rely on good will, clown.” sections of her body and clothes flicked back and forth between visible and invisible, taunting him about how easy it had been to steal them using her superpowers.

As his eyes took an extra tinge of red, he saw a brief flash of pale blue encasing her, he followed her to the entrance of the Gym, where she expected to be left alone with Homelander not to find another kid.

“The prodigal son.” she mumbles.

Ryan sat on top of some raised stepping stones in the recently established obstacle course, Helena imagined she needed to know parkour in lieu of flying abilities, which seemed redundant for the kid who could fly.

“Thought you two could practice together.” He shouted while placing the V on the nearest bench.

“Guess there are ways to successfully murder a child and get away with it.” She raised an eyebrow– and here I thought you wouldn’t be irked by the words of a little girl… like I said you’re a maladjusted person.”

“I don’t hurt children. I have no idea…” he said calmly while a little bit angry, as he returned to her side.

“I dunno– it would look really bad if the press found out that you’re a deadbeat.”

His expression dropped as the little girl's eyes glowed.

“Smartest little girl in the world… or...?” She said dryly, as she headed towards Ryan to save him the walk– my bubble refracts light, easy to spot if you notice images are wavering without the heat.”

The little boy ran cheerfully after his father, who for the first time ignored him, his eyes transfixed on the little girl, who had been playing stupid all along.

taglist-- @fromforeigntofamiliarity , @demodemo909 and @immyowndefender

here's the house:

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x f!reader #the boys oc #homelander fanfiction #personal #my fic tag #my writers block is criminal but thx god i had this chapter and 2 more ready #new york city rentals are fucking insane y'all paying too much-- had to look at them for reference for this fic so am more than glad to pos #a link to the 18K a month house that homelander bought for you dear reader #btw am living in australia so i might not know how yall pay utilities over there #took inspo from the diabolical first ep where they ahd an adoption centre as one of the floors of the tower to make the daycare #american royalty

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