#hom3land3r

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

Jamie could hardly breathe.

Not from the weight on his chest—he liked that. Craved it, even. No, what stole the air from his lungs was the way Eddie looked at him. The words hit him square in the chest, more powerful than any punch ever thrown in their years of sparring: “I’m looking at you, Jamie. And I like what I see.”

Jamie’s breath hitched. He blinked up at Eddie, eyes wide and suddenly brimming with something raw and aching. No one had ever said that to him before. Not really. Not like that. “Eddie…” he whispered, voice trembling just enough to betray the depth of what he felt.

His hands lifted again, almost hesitant, like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch. But when they landed—one splayed across Eddie’s muscular arm, the other curling around the back of his neck—it was with quiet desperation. He knew the Kingsman would have his head for this. He's failed them again.. yet.. he couldn't stop himself. He knew what he wanted.. WHO he wanted.

“I didn’t know I was starving until you said that,” Jamie murmured, eyes locked to Eddie’s like he was afraid he might disappear. “Didn’t know how badly I needed you to see me… and not just what I can do. Not the mission. Not the suit. Me.”

He laughed softly then—shaky, but sincere—and shook his head like he couldn’t quite believe this was real.

"I’d walk through fire if it meant you’d keep looking at me like that.”

The kisses against his jaw and neck stole his breath all over again, and he tilted his head instinctively, giving Eddie more space, more access, like his body knew what it wanted even before his mind could catch up.

“I was lonely. So bloody lonely, Ed.”

He drew in a breath, fingers tightening in Eddie’s hair as the other hand pressed against the warm expanse of his back. “And now you’re here. On top of me. With me. And I don’t want it to end.”

He gave a soft, rueful smile then, brushing his nose against Eddie’s with a boyish huff of laughter. “And as for your kiss? I don’t believe I’ve ever been kissed quite like that. So yes… I'd say that met expectations. Exceeded them. Broke the bloody scale. But more evidence is never to be.. discouraged”

Jamie leaned up, hand cupping Eddie’s cheek as he pressed another slow kiss to his lips—lingering, warm, thankful. Needy.

“I want more. Of you. Of this. All of you.”

Everything all of a sudden made so much sense. Eddie, towering over Jamie, a position they’d been in many times over the years after countless scraps during the academy, snd then more recently. But this…this was different. Much more different. Both of them were exactly where they belonged.

Soft blue eyes searched, making sure Jamie was okay. That this was okay. He shuddered at each touch given to him, not out of rejection, but because it had been so long since he felt the touch of another in any other capacity other than trying to kill him. A warm amused smile crossed his lips at Jamie’s reaction as a soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I did, and I’d happily do it again…and again…and again…” He replied teasingly, but his words were no less true.

He felt relaxed for the first time in years, his body a shield keeping Jamie safe and warm. He was content just watching, seeing and feeling every response given and earned. It meant so much to see Jamie calm, even happy and laughing, and he also seemed comfortable right where he was. It allowed Eddie to gaze over every inch of those features he’d grown to admire, breathe in the refreshing, soft scent that was Jamie. Even after all these years that scent hadn’t changed.

Eddie listened intently at every word Jamie spoke, meeting that glassy gaze. He leaned into the touch, welcoming it, savouring it. “I’m looking at you, Jamie.” He said softly, yet firmly to let the Brit know the words were meant. “And I like what I see. I feel I always have.” He hoped those words would sink in and tell Jamie all he needed to know, to soothe any concerns. This was real, very much so, and all Jamie’s for the taking if he wanted it.

The Aussie didn’t move a muscle as he stayed there on top of Jamie, letting him lead. The closeness, the feeling of another…he didn’t want to lose that. There was no where else he’d rather be. As Jamie’s whispers filled the space between them, Eddie melted into him, fully relaxed and content. And as he was kissed, he returned it equally and without hesitation, heart beating strong and steady. Sure. Certain. There were no doubts about how he felt, letting it show through the kiss and the comforting weight of his body against Jamie’s, reassuring that if Eddie did look at Jamie differently, it was in a very positive way.

The quip made Eddie chuckle as he eased back from the kiss, gaze fixed on green eyes. “Well, that had to be part of it at least.” He teased back with a smug grin. “Other than wanting a kiss. Which, I have to wonder, have I met your expectations?” He was playful, gentle with a glint in his eye as he leaned in to ghost his lips against jaw. “Or do you need more evidence?” He whispered, placing soft kisses against skin, leading a trail down neck. He was slow, still testing the waters, not wanting to push. Yet all the same, wanting Jamie to know how treasured he was.

Now that they’d made their feelings clear, it was like the floodgates had opened. Eddie wanted to show Jamie how much he was cared for, how special he was. He wanted to spend each day together, like a magical combination of the old days at the academy and recent times. The prospect of never being alone again, both of them having someone who cared, truly cared…it was the gift that Eddie had longed for.

Each kiss was soft and slow, Eddie in no rush and savouring the moment just as Jamie was. This was all new, all fresh and exciting, the contact already addictive. The two had the seclusion, the privacy, the time to properly figure this out and be together, whatever that meant. Eddie now had a reason to live and not throw himself into danger recklessly. Though, he had no doubt this severely complicated things with the Kingsman, knowing his head would be on the chopping block if word got out. But that could wait. Eddie wasn’t focused on anything else other than Jamie, and he wanted to keep it that way.

[manyimaginativemuses]

There was a thud, and not a delicate one either. Homelander landed in front of Lestat’s lair, part of him hating himself for even wanting to willingly confide in the leech. However, this was of the utmost importance and he wanted all eyes and ears on the city and beyond. No matter who they belonged to.

A bloodied gloved fist knocked on the door as the Supe stood, head to toe drenched in blood. Both old and new. This would be the first break he’d taken since his hunt began. He hadn’t stopped to eat nor sleep…or bathe. All meaningless tasks.

Lestat would be greeted with dangerously dark eyes and a set jaw. Homelander meant business and he wasn’t in the mood for any tricks or jokes. For all intents and purposes, he was dead inside with his reason for existence being taken from him.

[ @hom3land3r ]

@hom3land3r

Lestat and Stacee had been relaxing on the bus, with Lestat halfway through writing a new song, when he heard a slamming knock on the door.

“What the fuck?” Stacee said, shooting upright to answer the loud banging. When he opened the door, he was face to face with a bloody, exhausted, and angry Homelander.

“Who the fuck are you? I’m not interested in donating to the Neo-Nazi of America fund if that’s why you’re here.” Stacee said bluntly. Unless Gazelle had told Homelander about her husband, the man standing before Homelander looked like an identical copy of Lestat, albeit brunette, covered in tattoos, and with a far worse attitude than Lestat. He also wore a black leather vest with matching pants.

“Stacee who’s at the door?” Lestat called.

“Some cosplay weirdo who’s wearing an American flag as a cape.” Stacee replied and Lestat snorted a laugh.

“Tell him to fuck off, I’m not interested in dealing with his nonsense today.” Lestat said and Stacee turned with a fanged smile.

“You heard him. Fuck off.”

[awkwardcourage]

semi-plotted starter | @hom3land3r

They can't harvest Homelander's blood very easily, seeing as no needle can pierce his skin. They could bite his arm and let the blood flow, but Hughie hasn't suggested it, seeing as he doesn't think Homelander has the patience for it. There are stores of it, but none of them are sating Hughie's craving. So this is how he finds himself sat on the floor next to Homelander's bed, gently pulling his arm down to reach his mouth.

It feels weirdly the similar to sneaking into his dad's room when he was a kid, to steal away a Stephen King book he was too young for or because of a nightmare. The comparison makes him feel irritable and uncomfortable. So he gives it no more thought and bites down on Homelander's wrist.

[mages-pandoras-box]

Building Blocks

Starter for @hom3land3r

Months. It has been months since Ryan has talked to his biological father. Months since their 'human vs supe' argument and months since Ryan started giving John the cold shoulder.

Ryan still had his apartment in Vought Tower and slept there often. But he never went out of his way to see John. He tolerated the supe's presence if necessary - through his mask.

Then John's powers got stolen, and the man who did it wreaked havoc on the city in Homelander's name. Ryan confronted John about it and ended up punching him in the face, breaking his nose, when he didn't believe John's words.

It had been a few days, James had bitten Ryan's face off, and the teen had agreed to help in the relentless pursuit of the lunatic who'd taken Homelander's powers. The man was a slippery target, always one step ahead, making the chase both thrilling and frustrating. Ryan, taking a break from the hunt, walks to John's apartment and knocks. He wanted to apologize, even if John didn't blame him. He owed the man several apologies.

"John? It's Ryan! I think we need to talk,"

[everythings-coincidence]

Homelander decided to drop by and check in on the kid…for absolutely no particular reason. He knocked on Mori’s door.

“Mori? It’s Homelander.”

- H🇺🇸 ( @hom3land3r )

The door opens and Mori peeks out with a sweet smile that pulled at his cheeks.

“Hm? Hullo, Homelander!” He grins, tail instinctually wagging at the sight of his idol/familial figure.

[collateraldamage-old]

This is my life, but it's yelling at @hom3land3r to get the fuck out of the fridge.

The milk you DIDN'T FIND THERE isn't going to magically reappear until I go to the STORE stop OPENING THE DOOR.

[redchikittymeow]

Watching Homelander and Jame's interactions always puts a smile on my face thank you too you both

[jethrowest]

@hom3land3r

continued from here.

Homelander’s snark made the corner of Eva’s mouth twitch into a private smirk. As soon as it came, however, it was gone, transforming into a forced smile that showed off her pearly whites. Her pointed gaze skimmed the crowd, giving at least a few lucky fans the belief that she locked eyes with them.

“Smiling and lookin’ pretty, eh? Being told what to wear, how t’pose. It’s not as if that’s your whole thing or anything,” she teased. She bent over to personally wave at a man nearest them wearing a Toxic Rose shirt, ending the gesture with a cheeky wink.

“On second thought,” Eva began again, knowing full well that she was pressing her luck. “I’d be a-” Also knowing full well that Homelander could hear her no matter the noise or where she stood, angled herself close to his ear regardless.

“- pornstar.”

Going back to ogling the spectators, she persisted, “Got the gloves already.” She bent her elbow and wriggled her fingers about for dramatic effect. “Always protected.”

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

Hungry Boy

James entered the conference room with Homelander at his side, their arrival quiet but commanding. He smoothed a hand over his suit as he took his seat at the head of the table, posture straight, expression unreadable. The hunger sat low in his stomach—not unbearable, but present, a quiet edge in the back of his mind. He’d meant to feed before this, as he always did before meetings, but the day had gotten away from him. Unfortunate.

The executives and interns filed in one by one, voices murmuring, the rustle of papers and the clatter of laptops filling the space. The air carried the scent of stale office coffee, nervous sweat, and the cheap synthetic fibers of ill-fitted suits. James ignored it. Mostly.

The last to enter was Ashley, juggling her tablet, a thick folder, and a half-crushed energy drink. She looked one crisis away from a breakdown, as usual.

“Alright,” she exhaled, flicking through her notes. “Let’s get this over with.”

James lifted his agenda notes as he settled across from where Homelander sat in his chair. He could manage this. For now.

@hom3land3r

[bossbitchfoxy]

"To be fair, @hom3land3r is quite good looking though. Still, I will not give in to him that easily."

[manyimaginativemuses]

@hom3land3r

If they wanted him to be a monster, he would BE a bloody monster. That flying fascist had taken the person he loved most in the world, so Lestat would take what Homelander loved the most. And from a cursory scan of his mind, Lestat determined that what Homelander loved the most was his teenage son, a young boy named Ryan. Luckily for Lestat, Homelander’s mind was an open book and he was easily able to figure out where Ryan lived.

And even more lucky for Lestat, Ryan had been outside playing with a drone when he first found him after the sun set. Despite being the son of a “superhero” Ryan was beyond trusting and naive. He fell for Lestat’s rocker aesthetic and his charm just like everyone else did. Ryan’s mind was also weak willed enough to be glamoured and manipulated so that he didn’t spill the beans that he and Lestat had been meeting. For over a month and a half Lestat charmed the boy, telling him stories of the past and hypnotizing him into finding the vampire life intriguing and fantastical. The boy loved horror comics and horror movies as it was, so it was very easy to convince him that being a vampire was wonderful and something to want to become.

Of course he didn’t tell him the insanity that being an immortal child would come with though. He already saw that once with Claudia. However he cared for Claudia, Ryan was just a means to an end. And if this meant his own end, Lestat honestly didn’t even care anymore. His heart had been broken too many times over at this point and he was feeling reckless.

And this recklessness was exactly why when Ryan asked to be made a vampire too, Lestat wholeheartedly obliged. After all, he refused to turn someone without consent, but what’s a little manipulation to get said consent to a broken vampire like Lestat?

The night he turned Ryan, he took him from the safety of his home and brought him onto the streets to feed. The boy was ravenous just like Claudia had been, but his superhuman abilities were enhanced even further by his full vampiric transformation. Hell, his transformation hadn’t even been that bad due to his superhuman genetics, he hadn’t even felt too much pain when he died. Ryan was overjoyed by his new experiences and Lestat was ecstatic to have FINALLY won. Ryan was HIS son now, Homelander could have James.

So when he and Ryan were out feeding that night and he heard the whoosh of a superhero landing, a massive smile crossed Lestat’s face.

“Ryan, I think your father is here.” Lestat purred.

[awkwardcourage]

semi-plotted starter | @hom3land3r

"If you can't kill the father, then you may as well kill the son."

Hughie thought he'd died. It had certainly felt like dying at the time, but now he knew better. This was what dying truly was. Molten fire being poured through his veins, needles pricked every inch of his skin. The first death had practically been descent into slumber. This death was being covered in gasoline and set ablaze.

A constant scream ripped out of Hughie's throat and echoed inside of his head. His ears rang. Everything was so sensitive. He could hear his blood rushing through his body, he could hear everything and when he opened his eyes, he was blinded. The world had never been so bright.

At some point, his eyes find Homelander. He still writhed, body contorting with agony, but his eyes stayed locked on Homelander. "What... did... you... DO?!"

[everrlastingheart]

@hom3land3r

it's been years no decades since the former old school supe was last seen. Vought has kept her imprisoned banned and drugged from ever seeing her son. Everlasting never thought she would see the day of her golden boy all grown up in the flesh. Standing few feet away from her.

"John..?" she whispered

[everythings-coincidence]

ooc / out of collar

two frames of the lil animatic im working on for new years

characters: @ferretoftrouble, @ashortdropandasuddenstop(James), @hom3land3r, and @spooky-and-azazel

(don't mind homelander's tit this is still a rlly rough draft--)

[sinners-inc]

Plotted starter for @hom3land3r

She hated parties like this- everyone was wearing high end clothing and holding little flutes of champaign. Even she had to sit in a chair for a few hours as her hair was painstakingly pinned and braided into place. The gown was impressive at least, it was low dipping along the back with a trail of pearls against her spine.     What she didn’t expect to see- were American supes still dressed in their suits.  “All work and no chill huh? Bet that drives you crazy.” She spoke to the closest Hero next to her, keeping her voice low and partially muffled by her Drink.

[mages-pandoras-box]

He was minding his own business, just decorating the tower.

But he couldn't help but overhear them, John and Aunt Annie, getting along.

He smiles, more to himself, before going back to his work.