The fitting room, nestled in the heart of Vought's expansive compound, is a hushed haven where capes transform into their iconic suits. Raven, engrossed in her own thoughts, takes a wrong turn and finds herself standing at the entrance, unaware that she's stumbled into Starlight's fitting session.

The seamstress, momentarily startled by the unexpected intrusion, exchanges a glance with Starlight, who stands draped in the partially constructed form of her new suit. Raven, realizing her mistake, offers a sheepish smile and begins to backtrack.

"I'm so sorry, wrong room," She mumbles, taking a step away.

Starlight, a mix of surprise and amusement in her eyes, waves off the apology, "No worries."

As Raven turns to leave, the seamstress nods, indicating that it's fine for her to stay. Raven hesitates for a moment, then decides to seize the opportunity for a brief respite from the pressures outside.

Starlight, clad in the underlayers of her suit, gives Raven a curious once-over, "You're Tecton, right?"

Raven nods, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, "Yeah, that's me. And you're Starlight. Nice to meet you."

Starlight grins, her eyes lighting up with genuine warmth, "Likewise. I've seen you in action. Pretty impressive earthquakes you've got there."

Raven chuckles, a genuine camaraderie forming between them, "Thanks. You're not too shabby either."

Starlight blushes, appreciating the acknowledgment, "Yeah, well, we all do what we can, right?"

The seamstress, seizing the chance for a momentary break, steps back to allow the two supes to converse. Starlight glances at the suit in progress, a twinge of self-consciousness flickering across her features.

"Getting an upgrade," She says, gesturing to the half-finished costume, "Vought's idea. They say it's more 'marketable.'"

Raven raises an eyebrow, a shared understanding passing between them, " Translation: shows more skin."

Starlight laughs, the tension dissipating, "Exactly. Apparently, it's what the audience wants. More skin, more merchandise sales."

Raven smirks, a hint of irony in her voice, "Welcome to the world of Vought, where heroism comes second to marketability."

Starlight nods, a mixture of resignation and defiance in her expression, "It's frustrating, but I'm trying to find a balance. Be true to myself, you know?"

Raven leans against a nearby counter, her demeanor sympathetic, "I get it. I've been there. My old suit? Let's just say it left little to the imagination."

Starlight tilts her head, curiosity evident in her eyes, "Your old suit?"

Raven chuckles, reminiscing, "Yeah, it was this skintight number that Vought insisted would boost my image. I felt like a walking billboard."

" How'd you get rid of it?" Starlight adds.

" Uh... my boyfriend," Raven answers hesitantly," Homelander."

As the seamstress signals the resumption of their fitting session, Raven and Starlight exchange a parting glance.

The roar of the crowd reverberates through the stadium as Tecton and Homelander step onto the track, flanked by the blaring excitement of flashing cameras and the eager chants of fans. The big race between A-Train and Shockwave is about to commence, and the spotlight is fixed squarely on the two supes leading the charge.

Raven is dressed in a sleek suit that seamlessly blends style with functionality. Her presence radiates power as she poses for photos, a practiced smile gracing her lips. The cheers of the crowd, the palpable anticipation, all become a backdrop to the elaborate performance that is heroism in the world of Vought.

Homelander, by Raven's side, plays his part with the precision of a seasoned actor. His arm wraps possessively around her waist as they pose for the paparazzi. The cameras capture the image of Vought's golden couple, a display of unity and strength meant to reinforce the company's image.

The smile on Homelander's face is a calculated charm, but his eyes betray a possessiveness that transcends the staged theatrics. He revels in the attention, the adoration of the masses, and the knowledge that Tecton is his to showcase. The subtle pressure of his arm around her waist sends a clear message: she belongs to him, at least in the eyes of the public.

Raven, on the other hand, maintains the façade of affection, her smile a mixture of professionalism and compliance. She knows the importance of playing her part, of adhering to the narrative carefully crafted by Vought. As the cameras click away, capturing the image of Homelander and Tecton as the epitome of superhero unity, she can't help but feel the weight of Homelander's possessiveness.

Before the race starts, there's a brief moment of respite. The crowd's cheers serve as a distant hum as Homelander guides Raven away from the frenzy, their steps taking them to a secluded corner of the stadium. The noise diminishes, replaced by the hushed intimacy of their private conversation.

Homelander's hand, once wrapped around Raven's waist for the cameras, now trails along the curve of her back. His eyes, intense and probing, meet hers with a possessive intensity.

"You look stunning today," He murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down her spine.

Tecton offers a gracious smile, her eyes maintaining the illusion of affection, "Thank you. The fans seem really excited about the race."

His grip tightens, a subtle reminder of his claim, "They're excited to see us. Together."

She nods, her expression a blend of acquiescence and the weariness of a role played too long, "Of course. Together."

His gaze, however, lingers on hers, searching for a depth that she keeps well-hidden. There's an unspoken expectation, a demand for something more than the carefully rehearsed responses. But Tecton, well-versed in the art of navigating Homelander's complexities, maintains the charade.

As the race approaches, the stadium's energy swells once again, drowning out the intimacy of their moment. Homelander, satisfied with the impression conveyed, leads Tecton back into the limelight. The cheers of the crowd envelop them, and the possessive spectacle continues as they make their way to the starting line.

Eventually, Homelander ends up standing side by side with Queen Maeve as they smile and wave at the crowd below.

" Remember when used to just fly off to Paris, like, on a whim?" He asks.

" Yeah, I remember freezing my ass off across the Atlantic," Maeve responds,

" Yeah, those were good times," He utters, then turns his head," Why did we ever break up?"

" You mind if we not crack open that tawdry little chapter?"

" Oh, come on. You know, if I ever really thought that you'd fallen for someone else... I just I don't think I could handle it."

" Is that so?" Maeve asks with a quirked brow," I thought Tecton was the one."

" Funny," Homelander scoffs," Tecton is the one... right now. But you, Maeve..." he cups her face in his hands," Yeah, you and me? We're different. We're better."

The deafening roar of the crowd reverberates through the stadium as the race commences. Tecton, now watching from her private viewing area, claps politely as A-Train crosses the finish line, securing yet another victory. The crowd erupts into cheers, their collective enthusiasm echoing off the walls of the stadium.

Raven, maintaining the composed demeanor expected of a supe, offers a genuine smile. As the cheers continue, she scans the crowd, taking in the sea of faces reveling in the spectacle.

Her eyes catch Homelander's gaze from across the track. He's looking at someone in the crowd, and Raven follows his line of sight to a peculiar figure standing among the spectators. A man, seemingly ordinary in the midst of the hero-filled arena, holds Homelander's attention.

Curiosity flickers in Raven's eyes. She narrows her gaze, attempting to discern the identity of the mysterious man. There's something strangely familiar about him, an uncanny sense of recognition that dances on the periphery of her consciousness.

As the crowd's cheers create a symphony of celebration, Raven remains fixated on the peculiar man. He stands out like a sore thumb, an enigma in the midst of the jubilation. It's not just his appearance; it's a feeling—an unsettling sense that she's encountered him before.

The man's eyes lock onto Homelander, and Raven detects a tension in the air—an invisible thread connecting the two, drawing her into the intrigue unfolding before her. It's as if the world around them momentarily fades, leaving only Homelander and the mysterious man in stark relief.

Raven's mind races, trying to place where she's seen him.

Eventually, she's forced to shake it off once the arena starts to clear up. She's walking down the pure white hallway, when suddenly, she's pressed up against a wall with lips attacking hers. She's normally better at putting on a show and numbing her mind, but not today. Today, she pushes back.

" Not right now," She mumbles.

" The fuck does that mean?" Homelander asks as he narrows his eyes," Have you already had your fill? Some lucky fan behind stage maybe?"

" No... of course not," Raven says as she tries not to fumble over her words.

" Then let me," He says as he pulls her close," You love me... don't you?"

Raven is unable to make herself say in, and so she simply gives a nod. She sees Homelander smile and feels a hand on her head, pushing her down and down until she's on her knees before the blonde supe.

It's positively degrading, yet it's something she was taught to deal with. She was instilled with the belief that anything is worth being able to climb the ladder-- even blowing a psychopath in a hallway.

That, she has her mother to thank. Christina always pushed her to do more, to be better. Christina's theory was a relationship with Homelander was a guaranteed ticket into the Seven for Tecton, yet she did not live to see if her theory was correct.

Deep into the night, Raven finally arrives home, exhausted and drained, both physically and emotionally. She practically drags herself through the apartment, stopping in her tracks once she sees a vase filled with flowers sitting in her kitchen.

The vibrant forget-me-not flowers catch her eye, a stark contrast to the dimly lit room. Their delicate petals seem to shimmer with an ethereal glow, a fleeting beauty that stands in stark contrast to the harsh reality of Raven's world.

She approaches the vase with a mix of weariness and curiosity, her fingers grazing the delicate petals. The scent of the flowers permeates the air, offering a momentary respite from the suffocating atmosphere of Vought's expectations.

With a gentle touch, Raven retrieves the card, unfolding it to reveal a brief but poignant message.

Stay Strong

-V

The words, simple yet filled with an unspoken understanding, strike a chord within her. The initial "V" triggers a sense of recognition, and Raven's thoughts turn to Victoria Neuman, the woman who has become an unexpected anchor in her chaotic life.

The weight of the evening's events bears down on Raven, and for a moment, she allows herself to lean against the kitchen counter, cradling the card in her hands. The flowers, a symbol of resilience and remembrance, cast a fragile beauty against the shadows that linger in the corners of her mind.

As she contemplates the message, Raven's thoughts drift to Victoria. The genuine care and support that emanate from the gesture offer a stark contrast to the performative nature of her relationship with Homelander. The hallway encounter, a calculated display for public consumption, leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

Victoria's gesture, on the other hand, feels like a lifeline—a reminder that amidst the manufactured connections and hollow performances, there exists a genuine connection, a source of comfort in the form of forget-me-nots.

With a sigh, Raven decides to place the vase in her bedroom. The vivid blue flowers stand out against the muted tones of the apartment, injecting a touch of nature into the sterile environment. As she carries the vase to her room, she contemplates the complexities of her life—entangled in a web of Vought's expectations, Homelander's possessiveness, and the genuine affection she shares with Victoria.

Once the vase is carefully arranged on her bedside table, Raven takes a moment to sit on the edge of her bed. The events of the evening replay in her mind, each encounter etching itself into the fabric of her existence. The weight of her mother's ambitions, the public facade with Homelander, and the genuine connection with Victoria all converge in a chaotic symphony of conflicting emotions.

In the solitude of her bedroom, surrounded by the fragrance of forget-me-nots, Raven reflects on the choices that brought her to this moment. The delicate blooms serve as a reminder—a reminder to stay strong, to navigate the turbulent waters of her life, and to embrace the genuine connections that offer solace amid the storm.

As Raven leans back against the pillows, she glances once more at the vase. The forget-me-nots, in all their delicate beauty, become a silent testament to resilience and the enduring power of genuine connection in a world dominated by illusions.

The night stretches on, a tapestry of shadows dancing across the walls of Raven's bedroom. Tossing and turning, she finds no solace in the embrace of sleep.

With a sigh, Raven reaches for her phone on the bedside table, the soft glow of the screen illuminating her features. A quick glance at the time reveals the late hour, a testament to the sleepless torment that refuses to release its grip.

Her fingers dance across the screen, typing out a message to Victoria.

[ wyd? ]

The simplicity of the question belies the underlying invitation, a subtle plea for connection in the solitude of the night.

Seconds pass like an eternity before Victoria's response illuminates the screen.

[ Working late ]

The words carry a weight of commitment, a dedication to responsibilities that tether Victoria to her duties even in the quiet hours of the night.

Undeterred, Raven types again, a bolder proposition veiled in casual words.

[ I'm home alone... ]

The ellipsis hangs in the air, an unspoken invitation lingering between the lines.

The anticipation builds as Raven waits for Victoria's response. The seconds stretch, each heartbeat echoing in the quiet of the room. Finally, the message arrives, a promise veiled in the simplicity of words.

[ Be there soon. ]

A smile plays on Raven's lips, a subtle acknowledgment of the connection that transcends the digital realm. The invitation has been accepted, and the prospect of Victoria's arrival brings a sense of comfort, a respite from the turbulent thoughts that have haunted Raven throughout the night.

As she awaits Victoria's arrival, Raven shifts in bed, her mind oscillating between moments of nervous excitement and a subtle yearning for the genuine connection that awaits her at the door.

Minutes tick by, each one carrying the weight of anticipation. The soft sound of a key turning in the lock signals Victoria's arrival. The door creaks open, revealing her silhouette against the muted glow of the hallway lights.

Victoria steps into the room, her eyes meeting Raven's with a knowing glance. There's an unspoken understanding between them—a connection forged in the crucible of shared moments and genuine affection. Raven's invitation, though veiled in the language of the night, carries with it a yearning for closeness, a desire to escape the confines of the solitude that has defined her evening.

Without a word, Victoria approaches the bed, her presence a soothing balm to the restlessness that has plagued Raven.

As Victoria leans in, their lips meet in a shared moment of intimacy. The night, once fraught with restlessness, now unfolds into a sanctuary of genuine connection. The weight of the world outside dissipates, leaving only the quiet whispers of shared affection.

The room is enveloped in a soft glow, the hushed whispers of intimacy filling the air. Forget-me-nots cast delicate shadows on the walls, their presence a silent witness to the unfolding connection between Raven and Victoria. The atmosphere is charged with a different kind of energy—one born from genuine affection and a shared understanding that transcends the superficiality of Raven's public life.

Victoria's fingers trace a tender path along Raven's skin, mapping the contours of her body with a delicate touch. The sensation sends shivers down Raven's spine, a far cry from the calculated encounters with Homelander. In this intimate space, there are no performance scripts, no need for staged displays—only the raw authenticity of two souls intertwining.

Raven's eyes meet Victoria's, a silent exchange that speaks volumes of the unspoken connection they share. There's a vulnerability in this moment, a vulnerability born not from fear but from trust—the kind of trust that allows them to peel away the layers of pretense and reveal their true selves to each other.

As their lips meet, the world outside fades into insignificance. The kiss is not a scripted performance for an audience; it's a genuine expression of desire and affection. Their mouths dance in a symphony of passion, each movement a testament to the deep well of emotion that flows between them.

Raven's fingers weave through Victoria's hair, pulling her closer in a silent plea for closeness. Their bodies press against each other, the warmth of skin against skin igniting a flame that burns with the intensity of true connection. There's a stark contrast to the calculated encounters Raven had endured, where touch felt like a transaction rather than an expression of love.

In the quiet moments between kisses, their breaths mingle—a shared rhythm that mirrors the harmony of their connection. The room is filled with the soft sounds of sighs and whispers, an intimate symphony that resonates with the genuine passion they have for each other.

As clothes are shed and barriers fall away, Raven and Victoria navigate the landscape of each other's bodies with a tenderness that defies the harsh realities of Raven's public persona. Victoria's touch is a balm to the wounds inflicted by a life lived in the spotlight, a healing salve that soothes the scars left by a relationship marred by manipulation.

In the embrace of genuine love, Raven feels a liberation she has never known before. The weight of expectations, the echoes of her mother's ambitions, all fade away in the presence of this true connection. Victoria's gaze holds a promise—an unspoken commitment to cherish and protect the vulnerable parts of Raven that were never meant for the public eye.

The room becomes a sanctuary, a sacred space where Raven and Victoria explore the depths of their connection. Every caress, every whispered word, is an affirmation of the love that binds them—a stark departure from the hollow encounters that characterized Raven's past.

As the night unfolds, the forget-me-nots silently stand witness to the authentic connection that blooms in the privacy of Raven's bedroom. In this intimate dance between two souls, there is no need for scripts or performances. Only the genuine passion and love that bridge the gap between Raven and Victoria, creating a sanctuary where authenticity reigns supreme.

The afterglow of their intimacy lingers in the air, a warm and comforting aura that envelops Raven and Victoria as they lay intertwined in the intimate aftermath.

Raven's head rests against Victoria's shoulder, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on Victoria's skin. There's a tranquility in this moment, a quietude that contrasts sharply with the tumultuous world outside. In the cocoon of their shared space, Raven feels a sense of peace—an elusive state that has often eluded her in the cacophony of her public life.

Victoria's fingers delicately comb through Raven's tousled hair, each touch a declaration of affection. The room is filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, a rhythmic melody that underscores the intimacy of their connection. In the aftermath of their passion, there's a vulnerability in Raven's gaze, a vulnerability that she willingly shares with Victoria.

Their naked bodies lay intertwined, the warmth of skin against skin creating a cocoon of comfort.

"I love you," Victoria whispers, her words a tender caress that echoes through the hushed atmosphere.

Raven lifts her head, meeting Victoria's gaze with a sincerity that transcends the performative nature of her public life.

"I love you too," She replies, the weight of those words carrying a depth of emotion that goes beyond the superficiality of scripted declarations.

They share a moment of quiet contemplation, the air thick with the unspoken bond that ties them together.

Raven shifts, settling into a comfortable position beside Victoria. Their bodies mold to each other, the contours of skin fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Victoria's arm wraps protectively around Raven, creating a sense of security that Raven has seldom known.

In the soft glow of the room, Raven feels an overwhelming sense of contentment. This isn't the calculated intimacy she had experienced with Homelander; it's a genuine connection, born from trust and love. Victoria's presence is a soothing balm to the wounds Raven carries, a healing touch that mends the fractures left by a life lived in the public eye.

As they lay there, naked and vulnerable, Raven finds herself opening up in ways she never thought possible. The walls that guarded her heart crumble in the face of Victoria's unwavering affection. Pillow talk becomes a sacred space for unfiltered conversations, where they share dreams, fears, and the intricacies of their lives.

Victoria's fingers draw idle circles on Raven's back as they engage in whispered conversations that dance between lighthearted banter and profound reflections. Raven, for the first time, feels seen and heard in a way that goes beyond the performative aspects of her supe persona.

" I don't know how much longer I can do this," Raven breathes," I can't keep pretending."

" I know," Victoria nods understandingly," But you know why you have to."

" You make the mistake of assuming he's not willing to hurt me," Raven says, moving her head so they lock eyes," He's already proven he will."

Victoria remains quiet, not wanting to bring up an issue from the past. It's true, Homelander has no problem inflicting pain onto others, even those he's dating. However, other people hurting someone he's dating is a different question entirely.

" It's been five years," Raven speaks up once more," How much longer am I supposed to keep going?"

" Stan says as long as Homelander is in love with you, there's someone who can control him, even if it's only a little bit," Victoria says, then brings her hand forward to cup Raven's cheek," You're his weakness... just like you're mine."

Raven takes a deep breath as she looks into the eyes of the woman she loves.

" I hate him, Nadia," Raven whispers," I hate him so fucking much."

" I know baby," Victoria says, then presses a kiss to her lips," I hate him, too."

Their lips collide yet again, this time in a soft and gentle kiss. Victoria feels her cheeks becoming damp as Raven's tears fall out of her eyes without even realizing it. Their kiss continues, soft and gentle and sweet and caring.

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