#AND YOU TOO BUTCHER | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

obsessedwrhys · 10 days

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Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3

Origin:

Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.

Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.

BUTCHER

To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.

How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.

Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)

"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"

":("

Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.

He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.

"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.

Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.

"Did you miss me?"

"Oh christ..."

When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?

Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.

For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.

"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"

"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.

The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.

Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.

"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"

"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"

"He's dead"

"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"

But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.

Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.

Compatibility? 75%

HUGHIE

You treat him like a child.

No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him

"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"

"Stop..."

"Does baby want his milky?"

Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.

"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.

"I don't think he speaks English"

"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"

"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"

"Eh, you're right"

BANG

"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"

"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"

You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.

"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.

"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"

"God you're so ungrateful!!"

Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.

"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.

You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.

"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."

However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.

But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?

Compatibility? 55%

FRENCHIE

He's like your hype man which is concerning.

Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.

"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.

"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.

After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.

"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.

On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.

Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.

"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"

"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"

Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.

"What are you mad at me for?!?!"

"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"

"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"

"WHAT?"

There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.

Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?

Compatibility? 99.9%

M.M

Everybody deserves second chances.

He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.

"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"

"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."

M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.

"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."

"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"

Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.

"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.

You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.

Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.

You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.

I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.

That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.

"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.

"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"

"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"

Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.

She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.

Compatibility? 80%

KIMIKO

She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.

Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.

She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.

"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."

"😐"

"It's beautiful..."

Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.

Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.

"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.

"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.

"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."

"(Can you please take this seriously?)"

"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.

"😡"

"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"

For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.

For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.

"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"

Compatibility? 97%

Bonus +

SOLDIER BOY

You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.

Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.

In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.

"I'll take red with me"

"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.

"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.

Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.

"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"

"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"

Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.

"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.

"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"

"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"

"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"

At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.

"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"

"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"

Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.

Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔

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gloriousburden · 2 months

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i think they should make a movie where the writers actually like thor and loki

#how many more times are you gonna butcher their characters?#we need to talk more about how shitty the writers treat thor too. his writing in endgame was so…#you know… just because he’s a quote on quote rich kid space viking (words of taika waititi)#he still deserves a character arc from writers who actually understand what they’re working with and respect him/his fans.#fans who they (the writers directors and the studio in general) would be nothing without btw.#thor and loki deserve better #anti avengers endgame #anti thor ragnarok #thor ragnarok criticism #avengers endgame criticism #anti taika waititi #thor #thor mcu #loki #loki mcu

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kedreeva · 11 months

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On one side of me is an elderly couple I never see, and to the other side down the road is a little 4-spot apartment complex we call The 4plex. It's very small- I've only been in one of them, but it was basically a 1-bedroom apartment. I have only met a couple of the tenants, ever, since I mind my own business and they mind theirs. A long while back, there was a couple there that used to have screaming matches in the middle of the night (11pm-1am usually). They disappeared shortly after I stormed the castle at 4am because someone was blasting her horn trying to get the tenant to come fight her. at 4am on a workday.

I have also never met the person who actually owns the 4plex. Today I heard a bunch of commotion over there, construction sounds or at least lots of sawing, and big machinery, so I took Bug out to go see what we could see. We found a bunch of trucks trimming and cutting down trees. Not bad, the pines over there cause me problems if a bird gets out. So I turn and go to get the mail before heading back in.

I'm about halfway across my property when I hear someone calling me. not by name, so I turn to see Some Guy bolting across my orchard to catch up to me. I stop, and he comes up slower and introduces himself as the owner of the 4plex, and explains that he's cleaning up the property, the trees and removing the old sheds no one uses, and getting ready to sell it. I introduced myself, and as if we are in a grocery store checkout line, he begins to tell me a bunch of information while I nod along, and when I notice Bug is under his feet, I ask him to hold still, and point her out. He had not noticed her at all.

I scooped her up and introduced her, and let him hold her. He took a few pictures and I said, she's a baby peacock. That's when something clicked and he went from kind of tired and polite to excited and happy. He took more pictures. I offered to let him come see the other birds, so he came back and pet Stan, and fed Indie some peanuts out of his hand. I gave him the peafowl eggs I found in the pens we visited, and a dozen quail eggs from the quail, and sent him on his way, assuming I would likely never see him again.

just now I was out in Indie's pen, lying in the grass with Bug, watching the puffy white clouds inch across the clear blue sky, and listening to a little finch sing his heart out on a mulberry branch above me. Indie was preening nearby. Absolute peace.

Someone starts shouting my name from my driveway. It's Some Guy 4plex owner. He has returned. I call that I'm out in the pens, without getting up at all. He comes out and he's got a bag with him and he tells me I had got him an eggcellent breakfast, and really made his day (his week, his month), so he'd brought me a steak for dinner, and some corn. He sets down the bag and crouches to say hello to Bug again, and then tells me he showed his pictures to his sister in Texas and she didn't know what baby peafowl look like, either. Then said he's off to pay the tree removal folks, and disappeared again.

This is like the third interaction with neighbors I've had this month, after not talking to them for 10 years. I don't know what is going on.

#stories about ked's life #there's zero chance I cook this steak without Bug throwing a fit #also it's a NICE steak too from our local butcher #I assume the corn is too #it was very sweet of him to come back #he told me several times that I lead a strange life out here #and on the one hand I feel you buddy #and on the other you do not know the half of it

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iiep-wop · 8 months

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My favourite genre of media is silly gay people from different time periods -who by all means shouldn't be able to interact- going on silly little adventures together and maybe falling in love (idk that bit depends on the media)

#IM LOOKING AT YOU NATM AND GHOSTS #bbc ghosts #night at the museum #patcap #jedtavius #the captain #six idiots #natm jedediah #natm octavius #pat butcher #adding wwdits because i just started watching it and its quite good actually #adding Red Dwarf because i watched it recently and I recon it also applies too

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dreaminghelaena · 8 months

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#red and red and red. everything around her is red and it has soiled the wolf’s fur and now she bleeds too #the blood of the wolf has spilled and out pours a thousand words of love and regret and dread and yearning for just one more look.#one more hug one more i love you one more of your mama’s always going to be here for you #the wolf has been butchered and it’s blood has been spilled into the river and the fish swim in it now #asoiaf #sansa stark #a song of ice and fire #catelyn stark #robb stark #valyrianscrolls #arya stark #bran stark #rickon stark #webweaving #house stark #house tully #do you ever think.#catelyn tully #catelyn tully stark

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ganymedesclock · 1 year

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To explain The Goblin Problem and not go on a tag rant on someone else's reblog, I will explain it in the nutshell.

The Goblin Problem is when a story establishes a group of creatures to serve as recurrent antagonists (not necessarily all one species; in a lot of rpg games this can broadly apply to "monsters") THAT:

Are never negotiable, or the negotiable parties among them are Token Heroic Orcs- that is to say, they are seen as objectors or 'good' versions who have absolutely no connections to, and hold no objections toward you attacking, the rest of their brethren, who they have forsaken as the price to be paid for being good.

Have obvious unique technology; they may attack you with weapons found nowhere else in the game, demonstrate the ability to speak, have their own obvious language, tame a creature that nobody else tames so that it's thus impossible that they are stealing already-tamed specimens from someone else

Are characterized primarily or exclusively as raiders who attack others, with the justification this means they are inferior creatures parasitically dependent on Good, Civilized Settings, e.g. they cannot possibly be sustainably hunting, gathering, or practicing either nomadic or settled agriculture.

Are often defined as having no choice to be evil or are created by a greater evil to serve as thralls, and yet, will not under any circumstances be regarded as indoctrinated victims, or if that is mentioned, there will nonetheless be an overarching lack of narrative concern as to where or how the survivors should live after the greater evil is taken care of, or if effort should be made to challenge the indoctrination and give them the ability to choose their lives.

What this ultimately creates is that they are unambiguously people, who obviously check all the marks of sapience, who are quite possibly wearing clothes, but the goblin or orc exists as a stopgap. You want your fantasy hero to get into a swordfight but you don't want him to kill another human being. So you invent something that wields a sword but is in some way "not a person", which is senseless. Unless you want the nature of this swordfight to be that a chimpanzee picked up a knife, at which point they are not going to use reliable sword techniques.

#writing ruminations #the goblin problem #way too many fantasy stories take basically racist myths and then go 'well but it's different if this is Literally True'#'and applies to a species I made up that's also ugly by white western able-bodied standards'#and the underpinning motivation is you need a conflict token to move against your protagonists #and you don't want to suggest they're butchering animals- even scary ones- or hurting People #so you invent fake-animal-people whose job is only to be mean and have no apparent role in an ecosystem #and it's. I don't know how to tell you that's bad chief #even in a black-and-white good guys vs. bad guys clean cut narrative you should REALLY not split morality along race or species lines #hell in an extremely straightforward good vs. evil narrative you kinda gotta think about that MORE

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blindmagdalena · 4 months

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Christmas Traditions

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

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

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

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

Instead, Ryan had been insistent that they decorate together.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I killed Santa,” Ryan croaks out.

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

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

Shit, shit, fuck, damn it, shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As Ryan would say, it’s tradition.

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

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