#discussion board homework help

[myhomeworkh]

[assignmentassists]

I am offering free academic essay writing service for 1 to 2 page assignments. Contact me through discord server or user name above. Hurry while the offer lasts.

[malusokay]

becoming a better student ₊˚⊹♡

Prepare for your classes ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Wake up on time. We don't want to be stressed first thing in the morning, right?

Eat breakfast. So you will be able to better focus in class.

Assigned reading and homework. Make sure you are prepared for your classes!! :)

Review your notes. Going through some of your flashcards before class is really helpful.

Check your bag and charge your devices. Ensure you have everything you need: Books, homework, chargers, pens, water...

In Class ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Listen and pay attention. You can save yourself a lot of trouble by simply paying attention, trust me.

Take notes. My favourite note-taking method is the Cornell method; I can make a separate post on that!! <3

"Quick notes." If you struggle with note-taking, try taking quick and messy notes. You can clean them up once you get home!!

Engage. If you have any questions or don't understand something, make sure to ask!! Most teachers really appreciate students who speak up. :)

No distractions. Turn off your phone, no chatting, you'll be glad...

After class ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Finish your assignments as soon as you can. Go home, put on a cosy outfit, have a snack, and get working!! <3

Prepare flash cards. A great way of reviewing your notes, too... :)

Update your Study schedule. Write down any assignment and due dates, reading you must do, upcoming tests, etc...

Clean up your notes. Review them, highlight the important parts, and maybe even make them look cute!! :)

Don't avoid topics/Subjects you dislike. I know it is tempting, but you can't avoid them forever, so you might as well get them done

Structure and routine ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Goals and Priorities. Keep them realistic and manageable.

Time management. Having a set schedule makes studying less overwhelming; it takes some discipline but is so worth it!! <3

Develop a routine. Figure out what works best for you; I prefer studying in the morning or at night.

No "zero days". Even if you can only do a bit, do it!! NO. ZERO. DAYS.

Remember your goals. Dreams will keep you motivated; remind yourself of what you're working for!! <3

Self-care and balance ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Don't forget about your hobbies. You need to do things that make you happy, so make time for those things!!

Maintain a balanced diet. I know chocolates and junk are tempting, especially when you are busy studying all day, but you're not doing yourself any favours.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. 8 Hours. Non-negotiable.

Exercise regularly. Even if it's just a walk, put on some headphones, listen to music, and give yourself a break. <3

Care for your social life. Reach out to your friends, make plans, and keep in touch; a good work-life balance is critical!!

Romanticising ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Study dates. Meet up with your friends at a cosy cafe, discuss your work, and have some fun!! Studying doesn't have to be all serious all the time ;)

Silly Pinterest boards. Visualising your goals will help you find motivation!!

Music to set the mood. I have a bunch of playlists on my Spotify that might help!! <3

Cosy sweater and candles. The cosy Rory Gilmore vibes haha...

Getting a coffee before class. A little treat before things get serious... Simple pleasures, you know? :)

Babes, The hiatus is OVER, and I'm finally back!! I got a lot of asks on studying, burnout, and school in general, so I thought, why not start off with a little student guide?? I Hope October has been kind to you, and school hasn't been too overwhelming (though I know it, unfortunately, has been for many of you), and I'm glad to finally be back!! <33

As always, Please feel free to add your own suggestions and tips in the comments!!

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[thedreamparadox]

Reala needs a hobby or smthn I stg

Honestly.

I am working on figuring out what their deal is post JoD but college has occurred once again and it has been kneecapping my writing braincells.

The next fic after wild eyes bright is somehow at 14 pages already though my goal is to get it done before the end of next week.

[amphitriteswife]

Teacher (and subjects) head cannons!:

(I’m from the netherlands and the school here has a different grading system. Also collage and highschool are one thing. So highschool is 4,5 or 6 years depending on which grade you get on tests and stuff in elementary so please bear with me)

Poseidon:

You would think that he would teach biology but you would be wrong. He would teach Physics or some high level math.

The type to not let anyone in after the bell rings

Doesn’t care if you end up dead in the class you will not go to the bathroom during his lesson

Stands by the door to make sure you put it in those phone pockets thingy

Gives the most homework out of all the teachers

Wears formal clothes, always. Suits, blazer, slacks ect.

You will never catch him on a bad hair day

If he catches you cheating on a test, you can say goodbye to that grade because he will give you a zero.

He does sometimes turn a blind eye if you’re on the brink of not passing and don’t choose his subject. (You do need to be on the brink. So not like a 3 or sum)

Hates electronics so he just wants everyone to use a paper and the book. No laptops.

Only talkes to some teachers like Hades and Thor

Students think he’s either the worst or just eye candy

Has won the the contest of best man titties by students

People actually ended up crying in his class and he didn’t give a damn

Sends people out 2 minutes before the time and doesn’t care if they beg.

If you have him as a substitute you can start praying because you’ll miss your regular teacher

Types with one finger if he’s on his phone (rare sight)

Checks homework. As in not just looking but actually reading your calculations.

He sometimes even grades your homework or puts them for bonuses

He sometimes reads if it’s work time and he finishes his lecture

Got drunk one time during school dance and started breakdancing. Hades was supportive and filmed it.

Hades

Teaches history

Is well with his colleagues and is well liked by students

He’s not strict with phones but please don’t use them in his class

You sometimes do work. He mostly explains and writes notes on the white board for you to write down

Is very, very passionate about certain topics. His favorites would be the world wars and the greek/ roman empire.

Is that type of teacher that you could tell anything. School, home, hobbies. He won’t mind and he’s equally interested.

Has a mentor class every year and he helps them a lot.

His class is very popular and lots of people choose his subject, so popular that people who don’t take it sometimes ask if they can stay and also follow it for fun

Almost never gives homework

He makes planners, notes, power points. Anything that may help his students.

He even lets the class watch films so that they understand it better, he usually choses for oversimplified if he needs to explain the word wars

You can eat in his class as long as you keep it clean and don’t throw stuff

Smells like rituals. Flowers. Very addictive and good. Sniff

Is present at the school dance and school parties. He helps with carrying and making sure the students don’t do stupid stuff

He doesn’t even need to discuss about his students’ grades because all his students do good in his class

Is rated to have the biggest dick by the students.

Also wears formal clothes. So like a suit, but if he crosses his legs you can see that he wears funky socks. Like a bright purple with colorful cupcakes on it or a bright blue with yellow ducks on it.

Gives extra lessons if you don’t understand.

You know how when someone asks teachers about their life? If you do that he gets so happy and explains a lot

Shows pictures of Melinoe and Zagreus from when they were babies.

He brought a 4 year old melinoe with him one time and the class played with her. If she was not playing with the students she was probably in her father’s lap.

He also shows pictures of Persephone. Every time he talks about her you can hear the love in his voice. (I’m Persephone reincarnated)

Hermes

Teaches music ofcourse

You would think that music was easy but it really isn’t. You need to able to read music notes. You get 2 tests, playing and theory.

Helps well if you need assistance with your instruments

Gives surprise tests to see if you actually did the homework

He loves and i mean looooveeees gossip

He doesn’t say much but listens when a student says something about another teacher

Handles the school musical

You actually need to put effort if you want to pass

Doesn’t take away your phone if he sees you with it. Just stares from behind on it until you notice.

doesn’t sent people out of the class, just gives them extra homework

He never, ever stops smiling. The class is being too loud? He’ll sit in his chair and simply drink his tea while glaring with a smile.

Some students find him scary because of how polite he is, because they can feel that underlying anger.

Knows how to make a student’s life miserable if they make his class unbearable.

You threw paper at him and made the class disruptive? Boom 4 chapters done by the next lesson and all the texts should be 4 times written. In cursive

He is usually seen with the principal (Zeus)

Buddha

Geography teacher

Why? Because he often travels for different kind of reasons.

Eating is allowed, as well as chewing gun

Is great with the students and most people just choose his subject because he’s chill

Doesn’t prepare lessons. He just talks and the students get it

If he does have a powerpoint he promotes his insta, tiktok and his snap

Loves to know about different cultures

Had a diss battle in his class once and almost got into trouble

Called someone emo

If you eat in his class prepare to share.

Asks people if they can bring him coffee from the teachers’ room

You cannot tell me that dawg didn’t pull up in Jordans

Is also present at the school dance and actually bribes the dg for some songs

Doesn’t really care if you skip his class. He either doesn’t care or doesn’t notice.

He too has a mentor class. He has private talks and doesn’t mind if you tell him his problems and genuinely tries to help

Doesn’t give homework unless it’s necessary.

Beelzebub

Creepy Science teacher

Got called emo by Buddha

Doesn’t hesitate to threaten students

He never cares if you don’t show up, but he will rat you out because funny

Has been detected to smile when he does weird stuff. Like cutting things open

Is always in his lab and he’s the only one who can enter with a key

Someone made a sticker of his face and the whole school used it, again he doesn’t care

Had like those weird pots with stuff in it

Doesn’t allow anyone to touch them. He does demonstrate stuff if you ask nicely

Let’s you go early but it’s not in a nice way. He’ll only do it because he doesn’t want to teach anymore for the day

Doesn’t even go to lunch, he just remains in his lab

He only goes to halloween parties

Cyberbullies people. Teachers and students included

Runs the anti *insert school* accounts

Will not care if the school burns down. He hates everyone and everything. Except Hades, because he’s cool

Doesn’t care if you eat or drink. (He may or may not have put something in it for his experiments)

‘Students are like little monsters’ is his motto. He’ll treat them like it too

If you fail his tests he’ll sometimes give you one to retake

Thank ya’ll for reading :p

I’m gonna make a part 2. I think. Maybe some with the human fighters

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

ELINOR SOS

I am the student anon from a while ago who was concerned because my prof made an oblique comment about "knowing when people use AI on their assignments"

I often collaborate with a friend in the course on homework assignments (something that is encouraged so long as you name your collaborators when you turn in) and i found out recently that she DOES use chatgpt sometimes. we'll each work on papers separately and then compare ideas and make edits if either of us included something the other missed. i never copy her words but i'll incorporate her ideas if i feel they're useful.

this brings me to 3 questions:

1) does the prof know she uses AI, and does the prof by extension believe that i do, since i name her as a collaborator?

2) is there a way for me to kindly tell my friend i think this is ludicrous behavior and cut it the fuck out

3) is there a way for me to distance myself from my friend in the eyes of the prof without seeming like a total snitch or hardass or what have you

thanks in advance !!!!!!

prev anon:: I MISSPELLED YOUR NAME I AM SORRY elanor elanor elanor so sorry

LMAO you're fine, no worries!

Hmm, okay, so some of this is outside my wheelhouse as a lecturer the other side of the world - this is not to say I'm not going to share my opinions regardless, but just a reminder that I am not, for example, an authority on taking friends to task for using ChatGPT

Anyway the easiest (and most advisable) answer to all of this is to stop collaborating. Up until this point, you're fine, because you simply didn't know - if you get accused of anything you have plausible deniability, because you literally didn't know. It's worth pointing out, though, that you would probably already have been given a formal warning or taken to an academic misconduct board by now if you were suspected on past work - at least, that would be the case over here. We don't hang about if we have suspicions.

Whereas, from this point onwards, if you turn in a collaborated piece and she then gets accused of plagiarism, you are now in a position of having willingly collaborated with a known plagiarist, which opens you up to questions like "So you knew there was a chance that her inputs could have been Chat-generated and you used them in your own work anyway?" and that's a lot harder to defend against.

As to the rest of it, though:

No, probably not. She'd likely have been called on it by now, as would you.

Hmm. I think I personally would approach this with "I'm so sorry, my anxiety is through the roof and I just don't feel comfortable collaborating with you because you use ChatGPT. My brain is now irrationally terrified that it's somehow obvious to the professor and imploding from the pressure." And then if she wants to get into it further, you can discuss the issues with it. HOWEVER mileage can and will vary on that strategy - that's how I would phrase it to avoid her feeling judged, see, but depending on how good a friend she is and a whole bunch of other factors, you might prefer to go BITCH WHY DON'T YOU JUST MARRY THE FUCKING ROBOT IF YOU LOVE IT SO MUCH and block her number. Or, you know. Something along the scale.

Just stop collaborating. Nothing more needed.

The other thing I will say is that I think you're probably assuming more surveillance and oversight from your professor than actually exists. It IS obvious when you find a Chat-generated section, but I can't help but wonder if telling a class "We know that some of you are using it, btw. We won't say who but we can tell. So stop doing that." is actually a lie designed to scare compliance before it becomes a problem. Like. That feels like a lie to me. That feels like "Say it now and then they won't try it." Because if they actually knew, there would be formal proceedings, not oblique little warnings.

Anyway! I hope this is useful.

[drgarrisonandpaul]

The Quincys Around Kids

Again, SUPER open to criticism, discussion, and additions. I love talking to people <3

Quilge: He hates them and he doesn't want to be around them, but he's not aggressive. Just stiff and uncomfortable. Like, maybe they bumble around and show him their toys and he just goes "Ohhhh, wow that's... that's greaaattttt." Honestly, he prefers teens. They can just mutually ignore each other.

Askin: Doesn't hate them, but also doesn't exactly "like" them. They're messy and loud and gross. He'll be a nice wine uncle though, bring them little gifts that their parents disapprove of like fake tattoos and clip-on piercings.

Mask De Masculine: He's the best possible Quincy you could ever leave your kid with. Mask can be gentle but he can just as easily be rough, depending on the kid. Wanna wrestle? Why not. He'll wrestle a three-year-old, but he'll have also have enough restraint to get on their level. Timid kid that just wants to draw? Heck yeah! He'll sit down at your Dora table and draw all day! Though... he might break the matching Dora chairs-

Nanana: Also a pretty chill dude to leave your kid with. He's probably going to sit back and just chill and play video games or board games with them. One of my headcanons is that he's a mathematician at heart because it just sounds awesome paired with his "Morphine Pattern" Grids. He'd be more than happy to help with math homework, whether it be addition, time, or (his favorite) graphing.

Uryu: He's awkward around kids. Like, he likes them, and he has a way with them. However, something about him just DRAWS kids towards him. Kids love this poor man, happy to play and draw and hang out with him, and he just stands there and lets them drag him away like "Uhhhh, okayyyy, where are we goinggg???" and then he's stuck playing barbies for three hours (he loves it)

Giselle: ... ... no.

Gremmy: He's being nice, but also the kids are terrified of him. If he finds a child that ISN'T afraid of him, they'll probably grab a huge box and play rocketship. Gremmy feels like a rocketship-player.

Äs Nödt: Horrendous with children. He's tried being timid, and proceeds to get walked on. He's tried being more intense, and proceeds to scare them. He can't really find a balance in interacting with kids so he simply... doesn't.

Jugram: Please don't leave your child with this man, he will show them around the Silbern and there are things in the Silbern that children should NOT be seeing. Like war things and his collection of knives (he's totally a knife collector)

Ryūken: We see how he is with Uryu. This man cares for almost nothing, he's dull and cold and doesn't really connect emotionally with ANYTHING

Bazz-B: One would think that because of his aggression and punk guy attitude that Bazz isn't good with kids, and they'd be wrong. He's awesome with kids. He'll take them on his motorcycle (he totally has a motorcycle and does donuts in Hueco Mundo), he'll get them some ice cream, and he'll buy them some Pokémon cards. They'll probably play Xbox all day, even if the kid can't figure out the controls

Bambietta: Might scare the kid even if she doesn't mean it, she's pretty intense and explosive, but with a kid that can match her energy? I can see her taking them outside and blowing things up with them, either literally or with little soldier toys, making mouth noises for the explosions

Yhwach: I mean... you COULD leave your child with this man. You shouldn't, but you COULD. Sure, they'd be alive and well and probably happy at the end of the day, since I can definitely see him being calm and level-headed and sweet with a child. But the kid might also have a new little baby Sternritter uniform

Robert Accutrone: He doesn't talk to the kid, since he doesn't know what to really say, however, he does make them pancakes and turn on Bluey or Steven Universe for them. Have a lazy day

[eggtartz]

Hi Alin! I hope you are well and that your end of the year was very good. Can I request Mikey, Ran, Rindou and Chifuyu reacting to s/o staring at them (can be in public or in the presence of the gang) and the boys just ask her what she's looking at and she just says "I'm looking at my future husband"? Ty, be safe

a/n : thankyou for requesting anon <3

masterlist

mikey

your boyfriend was busy discussing about who knows what with draken while you were staring at him intently. the way he scrunches his nose and exhales dramatically, it never fails to bring a smile on your face. draken went to buy some dessert while mikey stayed with you. you moved closer to him stroked his blonde hair. "hm? what's wrong y/n? are you bored?" the man asked. you shooked your head. "nothing, it's just my future husband looks really handsome that's all" you said making mikey blushed and averted his gaze. you could see his ears were red and he couldn't even look at you. "o-oh? uh, good for him then.." he said while still looking away.

chifuyu

he was helping you with your mathematics homework while baji and ryusei was napping nearby. you couldn't help at how attractive chifuyu looked when he's super focused and when he's smart, knowing what he's doing. while chifuyu was doing the math you were subconsciously staring at him. "y/n? hello? earth to y/n?" he poked your forehead that snapped you out from your daze. "oh sorry chifuyu what was that?" chifuyu tilted his head "why are you staring? is there something wrong with my hair or something?" you smiled at him while ruffling his hair "no, i just thought that im currently looking at my future husband" the statement made chifuyu choked, baji and ryusei already laughing in the background when they're seeing chifuyu red. "g-gosh y/n.."

ran

"KAKUCHO!" the scarred man looked at you who was panting, eyes wild searching for someone. "HAVE YOU SEEN MY FUTURE HUSBAND?" kakucho frowned so much he's worried wrinkles are going to grow on his face earlier than expected. "your.. future husband? who's that y/n?" kakucho asks genuinely confused. it wasn't until you heard the lift dinged when kakucho sighed exhaustingly. "MY FUTURE WIFE!" the older haitani yelled when he got out from the lift. you two dramatically ran in slow motion and hugged each other. kakucho pinched the bridge of his nose, tired with your shenanigans.

rindou

rindou was slouching around, your arm draped over him. it was a lazy day, the two of you wanted to go on a date but unfortunately it was raining so the two of you were stuck at the tenjiku hideout. rindou kept frowning as the members did a lot of mistakes with their fighting skills so he sighed a lot. ran kept checking on you two, finding some way so the two of won't get bored. alas, the older brother found some old, sketchy board game and asked the tenjiku higher ups to sit down and play. it was odd to see deliquents playing board games but they were bored so why not. rindou won the game that he cheered loudly, booing at the others. you looked at him while smiling "my future husband won huh?" izana looked at you and gave a sly smirk as they nudged the now quiet rindou. "okay rin you need to invite everyone to the wedding yeah? or you know what? let's get the two of you married right here!" mochi dragged your ass with rindou's to stand and he became the priest who pretended to wed the two of you. rindou blushed furiously, the teasing too much for him.

[allforone-appreciation]

A Look Into All For One's Daily Routine (PRE-potato)

7:00 AM - Rise and shine, for the world trembles at the mere thought of my awakening. 7:10 AM - Morning cuddles and kisses with my precious wife, Inko and indirectly praising her for surviving another night beside the most feared villain-turned-family-man. 7:45 AM – Wake my baby son up, then have a villainous breakfast, consisting of coffee, eggs, waffles, and a side of intimidation. 8:15 AM - Conduct a nefarious board meeting to discuss evil plans for the day. Check on my ‘side businesses’ and make sure I’m ‘making’ money. 9:00 AM - Meet with underworld contacts. Expand my influence and power. Remind them who’s boss. 10:00 AM - Time for some "me" time. Attend an appointment with my personal tailor to ensure my villainous attire strikes fear into the hearts of heroes. A scheduled manicure is included every Wednesday. 10:45AM - Wreak minor havoc upon the city. A villain's work is never done and sometimes the blond idiot stops by. It's all about balance, you see. 12:00 PM - Lunch break: Consume the souls of those who dare oppose me. Wine and steak are the usual. Depends on my mood. 12:30 PM: While I’m having lunch, I usually log into my social media and contribute to All Might hate pages. The villain subreddit is my go-to. Update my Demon King fanfiction while I’m at it. (This entry is completely satire) 1:00 PM - Plotting session: Strategize with Tomura on how to conquer the world then make Kurogiri do all the work and babysit him. 2:30 PM - Business calls. Time to collect those debts and remind people why they shouldn't cross me. A few well-placed threats should do the trick. 3:00 PM - Pick up some "unfortunate souls" from the streets. Gotta keep the operation running smoothly. While I’m at it, I’ll supervise the training of Tomura and young villains-in-training. 4:30 PM - Time to head home. Can't wait to see Inko and my beloved son, Izu-baby. 6:00 PM - Dinner with the family. Nothing beats Inko's cooking, except maybe her smile. 7:00 PM - Quality time with Izuku: Help him with his homework, impart wisdom about the ways of the world, and play hero-villain with him. 9:00 PM - Bedtime routine and tuck my cute son into bed. Goodnight, little one. Daddy's gonna (hopefully) kill All Might tomorrow. 9:30 PM - Quality time with Inko. Sometimes the best evil plots are hatched ‘between the sheets’. 11:00 PM - Prepare for bed: Ensure all evil plans are in motion for the following day and that my reign of terror will continue unabated. Sometimes a book about totalitarianism and tyranny with a glass a wine is included. 11:30 PM – Time for a goodnight sleep. I need my beauty sleep to maintain this dashing appearance. Tomorrow, the world will tremble at my might once again.

Note: Schedule subject to change depending on hero interference, unforeseen villainous schemes, 'business trips' and holidays/weekends.

Please tell me what you think I had so much fun making this 😂😂😂😂😂 I might make a POST-potato schedule. I love this man so much can you tell.

😂 I'm laughing because honestly this very much seems like his schedule. Doing both evil stuff while also being dad for one at the same time is how he rolls. Like awww he loves his famil- Wait he picking up ORPHANS AND PLANNING PEOPLE DEMISE?

LOL, I need more of a Day in the Life of a Demon Lord. Because this is great also seems Inko gets quite a bit of attention at night. Though we can already see he definitely not going to see All Might coming when he comes with a Detroit smash.

But man I love how casual he is about his appearance and his affection for his family being quite wholesome. While also still doing evil things, you anon get it.

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

HIS BELLADONA PT.2 treech x mentor reader Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3

On the way back I just listened to Cory rant about the injustice towards him.,, The old fool wants to humiliate me completely. He gave me a girl and she's also from the twelfth district." he foamed. "Don't give up Coryo, be nice to her and help her," I answered him. I honestly wished he would go away. I understand that he wanted to win the Plinth scholarship, but this was about the lives of innocents headed for the slaughterhouse. It bothered me that he was talking about her as some piece of trash that was blocking his way.,, You're right, I should calm down." he admitted and we continued to discuss homework for the next week. When we arrived at our apartment complex, the mood was already full of joking and laughing. But the laughter passed me when I opened the door to the apartment that looked like a hurricane was raging. Before I could draw breath to call my father if he was still home, something glass hit me in the back. I fell to the ground in excruciating pain. The pain shot from several places, which only confirmed my suspicion that the glass bottle had broken and the shards were racing into my back. Before I could breathe out the pain, a hard, well-aimed kick landed in my stomach. "Ahhh.. what are you doing." I yelled at my father through clenched teeth.,, I should be asking you that." he yelled and grabbed my hair.,, I told you to stay away from danger and you're going straight into it, why are you participating in those Hunger Games games.” he spat right in my face and his alcohol breath made me want to throw up.Everything was overwhelming my head and back hurt and he just kept yelling at me, but suddenly he said a sentence that shocked us both.,, ... why do you have to keep putting yourself in danger Julia." My mother's name immediately brings me out of the foggy haze of my mind. It has the same effect on my father as he looks as if he has just been snapped out of a trance. Suddenly he lets go of my hair and grabs a full bottle of brandy and runs out the door. I wanted to scream and curse and curse whatever gods there are but now I had no choice strength. I just lay down on the floor and closed my eyes. I was woken up by voices and a gentle shaking on my hand, I moaned and tried to open my eyes.,, Coryo look she woke up, she's fine." that voice was Tigris after all. I opened my eyes and tried to sit up but my head quickly spun and I fell back onto my stomach,, Be careful not to get up, ohh he set you up real good. Coryo take her up to us and we'll treat her." Tigris ordered and walked forward to prepare the medical supplies.,, You don't need to, I'm fine.." I grunted into Coriolanus's chest as he carried me upstairs. However, the boy just held me tighter and carried me to their apartment where Tigris treated and cleaned my wounds. I was with them for about another hour when Coryo and I agreed that tomorrow morning we would go to welcome our tributes to the station. I spent the whole evening making sandwiches both for my tribute and for Coriolanus as a thank you. I prepared sandwiches, water and two apples.

Morning came all too quickly and before I knew it I was walking next to Coryo towards the station. I noticed that he was carrying one of his grandmother's precious roses.,, This is for your tribute." I asked curiously. "Um, what did you bring for your tribute?" he asked in return.,, I brought him food and water, I think he'll be exhausted from traveling, and by the way, I brought you food too, as a thank you." I said as I handed him a sandwich. Coryo just nodded gratefully and took a bite. We waited at the station for about a quarter of an hour before we heard the familiar whistle of the train. However, when the train appeared, I was confused, this train was used to transport animals and not people. When the train stopped, peacekeepers boarded it and began to open the doors of the carriages. At first, no one came out of them, but soon the peacekeepers began to shout abuse and bang on the walls to tributes climbed out. After a while people finally started to climb out. I was shocked most of the tributes were in really bad shape. They were tired, dirty and definitely hungry and thirsty. I noticed that Coryo had found his tribute and that forced me to find Treech myself . I just noticed him when he was jumping off the train and helping his partner from the district. I took a deep breath and took a few steps towards him. "Hello Treech." I spoke to him. He looked at me in return and muttered in a hostile tone. "And who are you?" I'd be lying if I expected a warmer welcome.,, I'm (Y/N) Belladon and I'm your assigned mentor, welcome to the Capitol Treech and Lamina." I addressed him and his district partner.

[myhomeworkh]

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[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty. Ch. 9

A Homelander x F! Reader/Dadlander fanfic

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

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

Chapter Nine

Tally

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

Homelander had made a surprising decision.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he knew just what to do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That's not what–

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shouldn’t you be at work?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you… do you play?”

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

“He doesn’t play anymore?”

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

Her eyes opened wide, smirking at the suggestion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Were they nice? Mine suck, lol.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on?”

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

“…follow me”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bit extreme."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Homelander offered a sad smile that made for poor comfort.

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

She looked confused, urging him to explain without words.

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

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

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

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

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

“You like Dr. Seuss?”

Helena shook her head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Homelander felt the candy pressed tightly in his glove.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you Helena. I really do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you want to hit me please do so.”

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

“Your hardest.” He mumbled.

“I would break the wall.”

“Go for it.” he lifted a thumb up

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

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

“Are you hurt?”

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

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

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

She sniffled a little.

“You’re so weird.”

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

She nodded, twirling the twig in her hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded furiously trying to swallow fast enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

“No, why?”

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

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

“Who died?” Helena said.

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

“I’m fine. wha…”

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

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

“Please honey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hung, staring at the screen.

“Write your alibi.”

“Why… why did you do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The clock reading past midnight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I have to eat the turkey leg…?”

“Yes.”

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

“I feel nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Starlight did turn out to be a loonie.”

“I meant Stormfront…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She said nervously.

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

“Wait!”

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

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

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

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

“Is okay if you want to…”

A smile melted into his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where was his spark? Where was the zest?

What made him actually special and great?

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

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

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

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

Kingslayer. 

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

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

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

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

She would keep it in her back pocket.

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

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

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

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

“Do you have an earpiece or something?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A shattered bone, and whining.

He smiled just for her.

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

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

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

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

Taglist-- @immyowndefender @demodemo909 @fromforeigntofamiliarity @ghqstfqce

apologies for lenghts but hope y'all like it

[drakeanddice]

On the Matter of “Lonely Fun”

I do not enjoy prep.

I had a conversation with Navi the other day and many things were discussed regarding Trad gameplay, OSR stuff, dungeon crawling, and the varying imbalance between the GM and player roles in those games. Navi explained that she views most of those older trad games as, to a greater or lesser extent, board-games in which you try to face greater and greater perils while expending the fewest resources possible. She misses a little bit of the granularity in the tactical plastic-pushing sense of dungeon-crawling.

I’ll admit I got a little caustic. “Of course you do. You weren’t the one doing the homework.” She showed up and got to passively consume. The AI had already set up all the situations and all that was left was to make interesting choices and see how the situations resolved.

I don’t want to put on that mantle of wounded pride, the one so common among the legions of “forever DMs.” No one’s forcing anyone into the service side of the weirdly-fraught master and servant relationship that is D&D. Plenty of power-bottoms in the scene, for sure; just absolutely over-the-moon to make sure everyone has a good time week after week, whose psychological reward is that their friends at the table were excited to experience the story they’d crafted.

Don’t @ me that you’re the big D at your table because you’re sitting behind the screen and deciding matters of life and death for your party, because the same has been said about healers in MMOs. You are in the service industry, friend. It’s why you’ve got homework before every game.

I do not enjoy that prep. Mostly, it rankles that only one person at a table of four, five, six functioning brains is the only one who gets saddled with the lonely fun in a lot of these games. Because, I’ll happily admit that it can indeed be lonely fun. Honestly, the problem is that I, being a writer, have a tendency to vanish over the edge of the deep end where prep and world building and scenario design and customized content and everything are concerned.

Navi, for all of her talk of occasionally missing the D&D-esque dungeoncrawling adventure days will be the first to tell me that she does not miss the days when I was running D&D for her. Because I put way too many hours in. Not because I had to. Not because the game was complex or difficult, not because the game required it of me, but because it didn’t fight me if I did. Honestly, the game was such a bag of blanks that I could spend as much time as I liked filling them in and if anything, the game only got better. And so I did. And the game was…y’know fine. Great. The table was awesome. So long as I didn’t expect anything of them.

The players would show up and play through the encounters, ooh and ahh at all the right places, and tell me they had a good time. And that was enough for a while. But man, the energy only goes one way in that kind of game. I spend my time daydreaming and writing and such, and they appreciate it. Then wonder what happens next week. No real agency or direction, just passive recipients.

I can’t do that anymore. So I tend to play games that treat prep with the same disdain I do. Or I write some World Anchors when I pitch an OSR game. I set the timer and spend no more than ten minutes on the steady state world and then go. I don’t prep, I play.

I prefer to get my board game-y combat bits from board games. They don’t require as much set-up. And typically the other players help.

[salmon-sushi-monster]

It’s hard to engage in the new PJO show fandom because I have to constantly fight against the urge to talk about just how much this series means to me, like.

I remember the exact moment I started reading the books as a 9 year old. I was in a boarding school and had finished the assignments early. As I was walking back to my seat after handing in my homework I saw a classmate reading Sea of Monsters. I borrowed it from him as I was already interested in Greek Mythology and started reading, and was so confused because it was the second one. The next time I went to a book store I made sure my mom would help me find the first and the third books. And at the time there were only three because even though the PJO series had finished the books were slow to be translated to Chinese, my 1st language.

This series saw so many of my first times. I engaged in online fandom for the first time, by finding an online Sci-Fi & Fantasy forum, to share the news that the Battle of Labyrinth were about to be translated to my language, and people there made fun of me because they had already known for a year. The PJO fandom was where I made my first fandom friend. It’s the fandom that got me into writing fanfics and making art. I started venturing into international websites - sites that are not in Chinese - for discussions and fan content. I became interested in the world out there because of PJO.

When Mark of Athena first came out our side of the fandom was enraged. To me, a closeted queer 12 year old troubled with ADHD and depression in China, Nico di Angelo would be the first ever character that I could see myself in, a gay character that I would actually be able to read about in a published book. A gay character that’s normalized, who was troubled by his identity. Someone who is just like me. And his confession about Percy was censored in the Chinese translation.

I started translating fanfics - and translating content in general - because of this. I didn’t want other Chinese fans to have to wait years for new content like I did; and I didn’t want them to read a filtered, censored version. In high school I would finish a non-official translation of the first Trials of Apollo book. It took me more than a year, but nothing was censored. I hope it is still up there.

I chose my English name - a name that I tie a huge part of my identity to - because of a character in PJO. I started going to my local foreign language library and began to read, read, and read because of PJO. I picked my college major - anthropology - partly because of PJO. Heck, I decided to study abroad in college in the US because I had a crush on a girl who was also into PJO in high school and she was planning on going to the US.

When RR started writing the series I’m sure he did not intend for it to have this big of an impact on a little Chinese girl’s life. But it did, and I’m eternally grateful for that.

[keichan]

November

You and Sugawara Koushi have been RAs at your university for the last three years. Though it’s easy to say that the two of you have never gotten along well. Follow the course of your senior year at Miyagi University.

Genre: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, american style college au (though set in Japan)

wc: 900

authors note: after two years i'm so back. message me to be added to the taglist

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Your friend group sat in the library. You were hand in hand with Natsuo, your free hand grabbing the fabric of his jacket as you laughed at a remark that Kouji passed onto Megumi. Making fun of how her shoes never matched her clothes. 

“Don’t deny the truth!” Koushi laughed, ruffling her hair.

“Listen, just because I’m wearing a white shirt doesn’t mean that black boots don’t match! I’m gonna get Daichi to run you over with his car if you all keep acting up!”

“Homicide I hear?” Daichi pulled a chair out beside you, joining in on the laughter.

“You, me, death at-” Koushi used his finger to tap his phone on the table, “12:01 am. I have a discussion board due at midnight.” He winked at his best friend.

“If I’m going to kill you, why does your homework matter?” Daichi began to pull his books and placed them onto the table. 

“Taki Sensei will kill Y/N and I over and over in our graves for not turning in our faux lesson plans, duh.”

Leaning forward you placed your hand on the table and laughed with Sugawara. 

“He’s absolutely bizarre. I feel like I’ll drop before I can get a passing grade!” You were pulled back to your boyfriend’s side and he stifled a laugh. “If you work hard you’ll get the grades to pass.” You met Natsuo’s eyes before he gave a half smile to Sugawara behind you. The smile on your face slightly dropped as you sank back in your chair.

-

Sugawara walked on the ledge of bricks beside you. Lifting his arms on either side to balance, he teetered from side to side. You slid your hands in your jacket pockets and laughed as he hung one foot off of the drop. 

“Did you finish everything last night?” Sugawara asked, raising his foot back on the ledge he continued to place one foot in front of the other.

“Couldn’t. Natsuo wanted me to help him with his project.” 

“Isn’t this like the fifth time he’s done that this semester?” Koushi stopped placing his hands on his hips, eyes glued to the ground.

“It’s not like I don’t want to help him. He’s my boyfriend after all.”

“I’m just saying he needs to be prioritizing your schoolwork as well. He knows that the university’s teaching program is one of the best in the prefecture. You have to set yourself up for senior year now.”

You stopped in your tracks to take a glance at your friend.

“Are you saying that I don’t work hard, Koushi?” You took a small step towards him. Your eyes reached his.

“You know I’m not saying that. I just don’t think he’s respecting your time as a student. You have things to do too.” He tilted his head slightly as if to emphasize his point. 

“I think you’re just jealous that I can sweet talk the professors.” 

“I don’t need to because I’m on good terms with the department head and I turn in all of the assignments early.” Koushi placed a hand on the brick and hopped down onto the sidewalk. Placings his thumbs under the straps of his backpack, he looked down at you with a frown.

“I’m just trying to look out for my friend and you’re being defensive for no reason. Just like Naoto isn’t a perfect person, neither am I. I just think you need to look for the best possible path for you without anyone holding you back, ‘kay?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, pulling your scarf around your neck slightly tighter. You were beyond irritated. Koushi kept trying to blame the mishaps of this semester on Naoto, when in all reality it was adjusting to a new academic environment.

You rolled your eyes and continued on your path to class. Koushi jogged to match your pace, slinging an arm over your shoulder, he made your chest slightly dip forward. The contact made you even more annoyed. Thrashing your shoulder back, his arm returned to his side. The leaves from the trees crunched under your shoes as the two of you fulfilled the silent walk to your shared class.

-

“Babe, I know you have plans tonight, but I really want you to stay.” You sat snug, pressed against Naoto’s bare chest. He uses his hand to brush your hair behind your ear.

“But I promised Kouji and Koushi that I’d make it. Tonight’s Megumi’s birthday. You’ve known that for months, Nao.” You wrapped your arms around his torso, his body heat drawing you nearly on top of him. His large hand rested on your back, keeping you on the small dorm mattress.

“I know, sweetheart, but we’re having such a good night, don’t you wanna go for it one more time. You know that Oda is going back to his family’s place tonight.” He placed a small kiss on your lips.

“I know, but I don’t see why I can’t just come back over when her party is over.”

There was a stillness in the air before your boyfriend replied. “I’m just already so comfy next to you.” He nuzzled his face into your neck, easing you back into him.

“Fine.” You muttered.

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[lumiellle]

Haikavember Day 4: Inspiration

“Say, Alhaitham, do you ever feel inspired?”

Kaveh asks him this question unprompted. Their conversation had just lapsed into comfortable silence, the previous topic done. He blinks at Alhaitham, then his eyes flick back to his glass, red wine swirling around it as he twirls it between his fingers.

“Inspired?” Alhaitham asks. Kaveh’s question is too open, leaving too much room for interpretation.

Kaveh seems to dislike receiving answers that deviate from the intended meaning of his questions, though he hasn’t learned to phrase them accordingly, so Alhaitham struggles to find fault within his own way of interpreting these questions.

“You know, like when you read a really nicely worded paper and it makes you want to add to the discussion,” Kaveh says.

So it’s that kind of question.

Alhaitham supposes that he does feel inspired sometimes. A lot of times, actually. It started, if he remembers correctly, right around the time he and Kaveh met on that fateful day in the House of Daena. Up until that point he’d preferred to keep to himself, taking little interest in what other students had to contribute to class discussions. Even most of the professors failed to pique his interest, which was one of the reasons he stayed homeschooled and self-taught for the better part of his youth. He never felt inclined to engage in prolonged debates with his peers. They seemed to be living a different reality, and the resulting disconnect was too great for Alhaitham to want to bridge that invisible gap.

Kaveh crashed into his life full force—he was loud, passionate and intelligent. He still is, even though life has been unkind to him. Alhaitham knew immediately that Kaveh was different. He was like him in ways the other students his age weren’t.

It didn’t take long before he found himself scribbling away furiously in an attempt to refute a claim Kaveh had made in one of his homework assignments. He had written critiques of published authors’ works many times before that, but this time his heart was in it. There was something happening inside of him, a flame of need flickering incessantly where muted nothingness had been before, his pen sliding across parchment without care for all the smudged ink on his hand or the balance of his lettering. He needed to write. Nothing else mattered.

Kaveh had brought out a side of him Alhaitham hadn’t been aware of himself. His desire to interact with Kaveh’s thoughts, both in person and on paper, only grew over time. Where he was apathetic at best during most of his classes, he raised his hand eagerly in classes he shared with his favorite senior, and if only to nitpick tiny details in his presentations or statements.

After things went downhill between the two of them, Alhaitham found himself bereaved of all drive. Freshly graduated, he should have been actively seeking employment, but he barely managed to get himself out of bed some days. Even though he hadn’t felt like anything was amiss before he met Kaveh, it seemed that the spark of life, the curiosity Kaveh had inspired in him had left him in the same way Kaveh had left his life.

It wasn’t until he started noticing several postings across the notice boards around the city on his infrequent trips to the market to restock on groceries that the flame that had lain dormant inside of him was rekindled. The postings were anonymous and eclectic in terms of content, but Alhaitham knew who was leaving them. He could tell from the way their author phrased certain ideas, and he would recognize that looping handwriting anywhere.

Before he knew it, Alhaitham had pulled a pen out of his belt pouch and started scribbling his answer to Kaveh’s posting. 

When he returned the next day to find a disgruntled reply, he couldn’t help the smile creeping onto his lips. He felt like, in a way, Kaveh had allowed him to step back into his life, even if it was unclear whether Kaveh had realized it was him or not. 

If he were to be entirely honest, he would have to admit that Kaveh was indirectly responsible for a good chunk of Alhaitham’s early scholarly work. If he were to be honest, he’d tell him that he inspires him every day, just by being himself—even though Alhaitham doesn’t share his ideals, he respects the way he never strays from them. But Kaveh doesn’t take kindly to Alhaitham’s honesty; he has an uncanny knack for interpreting ill intent into his actions, or maybe a learned inability to take words of affection for what they are, specifically when they come from Alhaitham.

So, looking back at Kaveh over the rim of his own glass, Alhaitham says, “Funny you should ask. I suppose that recently, I’ve been feeling more inspired than I have in a long time.”