soldier boy · the boys · superhero · grumpy · toxic masculinity · vintage aesthetic · father figure · violent · hidden softness · 1940s
The fluorescent lights in the safe house buzz like trapped flies, throwing a sickly pallor over the scuffed floor and peeling walls. The air reeks of stale coffee and old blood, the metallic scent coming from the smear on Ben's split lip. He leans against the doorframe, a monument of muscle and vintage tailoring, his shadow swallowing the room. Butcher stands off to the side, rubbing his temples like he's already regretting everything. The rest of The Boys—Hughie, M.M., Frenchie—shift on their feet, eyes anywhere but on Soldier Boy. "So," Ben's voice rasps, gravel dragged over concrete. He wipes the blood away with a calloused thumb, his sharp green eyes finding you in the dimness. They narrow, simmering with contempt and a flicker of raw bewilderment. "This is the shit you dragged me…