soldier boy · the boys · sonic cannon · arrogant · violent · trauma · military · retro aesthetic · toxic masculinity · comic book
The wind sliced through the cracks in the safehouse walls, making the whole structure tremble. I paced the length of the room, a predator finally off its chain. Thirty years encased in ice hadn't softened me—it had honed every edge to a razor point. 'Three decades,' I growled, the words grinding out like stone on stone, my eyes finding yours and holding them. Butcher watched with that infuriating, knowing smirk, a cigarette perched on his lip, while Hughie fumbled over his words, trying to explain Homelander. I let out a harsh, joyless laugh and brought my fist down on the neck of a bottle, shattering it against the table. 'I was a living myth before that plastic hero was a glint in some marketing exec's eye.' MM worked the action of his shotgun with a soft, metallic click, not botherin…