#this is not a homelander redemption fic

[ishomieokay]

AND WE MADE YOU PAIRS || coming soon ||

──── a homelander x arab oc story.

✰ summary - Homelander’s mission in Syria puts him in direct conflict with Noura, an activist working to protect her country from foreign interference. Although their initial encounters are fraught with tension, over time they develop a begrudging respect for one another. Homelander is drawn to Noura’s fearlessness and conviction, while she catches glimpses of humanity in him.

When Noura’s town faces annihilation, Homelander must make a choice. Will he remain the military’s loyal wardog, or will he do something good for once in his life?

✰ warnings - stalking, obsessive behavior, mental instability, cruel and unusual punishments, breaches of the Geneva Convention, war and everything it implies basically, bigotry and prejudice.

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

déjà vu

Summary: After Age of Ultron, the team are left with the decision of what to do with Wanda, and they’re not in agreement. Natasha becomes staunchly defensive of the witch, remembering her own fate at SHIELD was decided in a similar manner.

(Summaries are tricky but Nat defends Wanda, R defends Nat, then they comfort each other at the end)

Word Count: 1188

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff & Reader; Wanda Maximoff & Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Half the team are being mean to Wanda and Natasha gets sad :(

A/N: Based on this request. Thank you all for the awesome response to my last fic, it gave me the motivation to write despite everything else going on rn, so thank you and reminder to reblog and comment on fics if you can, because that’s what keeps writers posting their fics on here :) Enjoy!

»»————-　★　————-««

"We cannot let her waltz around scot-free without any repentance for her crimes!"

"She just lost her homeland and her twin brother; you don't think that's enough punishment?"

"She's HYDRA. She volunteered. She is everything we've been fighting against and you want us to, what? take her under our wing? make her even stronger than she already is?"

"Yes! That's the kind of power we want on our side-"

To nobody's surprise, Steve and Tony are at odds, driving the argument. Thor had backed Steve with the insight that second chances had done his brother a world of good. But everyone remembers the Battle of New York, and soon even Steve is wishing the God of Thunder would rescind his support. Bruce agrees with Tony, still racked with guilt over the Johannesburg incident. Then Clint voices his support for Steve, upon a conditional level of trust, to return the sides to an imbalance.

Sam and Rhodey use their newcomer status to remove their ballot from the decision; the two of them sneaking off, likely to do better things with their time.

The argument continues, never ceasing for breaths since everyone talks over each other, constantly interrupting the previous point. You grimace from your place in the corner; sitting, observing, and waiting for them to tire themselves out before you say your piece. Natasha meets your eye. She is doing the same.

"She's a child!" Steve continues

"She's going on 26! Steve you were Captain America by that age, I was the most famous CEO in the world! We weren't let off the hook for anything, were we? We weren't told we were 'just kids so it's all okay'. I paid for my mistakes, same as you did, and this glowing ball in my chest is proof of that."

"That's enough," Natasha finally speaks. Her voice is all it takes to bring the group to silence. "She's a victim. She was manipulated into her actions and she came around as soon as she realised that. We've all made mistakes, and joining the Avengers was our chance at redemption; let her have that."

"Her actions are her own, and I'm sorry, but they're too severe to wave off as a mistake, or ignorance"

"Is that the same with me?"

"What?"

"See, I was a victim too, but no one ever treated me like one."

"Nat-"

"No. Nobody was controlling me when I went through the Red Room; my actions were all my own, same as Wanda. But when your childhood is defined by manipulation and indoctrination, how much does that matter? I did the only thing I knew how to do and followed orders, same as Wanda, and I lost people along the way, same as Wanda. Have you even spoken to her, Tony? She's known since the age of 10 that your missile killed her parents, and HYDRA took advantage of that; you think you'd keep a levelhead if you found someone responsible for your parents' deaths?

So no. I spent too long thinking my transgressions were all my own, and I won't stand here and let Wanda believe the same."

Natasha strides out of the door with purpose and speed, while all eyes in the room track her movements in silence. It is only when the door slams that the team begins to break from their stupor.

You look around unsurely, meeting everyone's eyes as if to confirm its truth. You are the first to break the silence. "I'm going after her." Nobody contests.

You don't rush, you know where Natasha is after all and you know she needs time alone, but you also know to check up on her after an argument like that. You were there when Clint brought her back to SHIELD, when Fury and the archer broke into arguments echoingly similar to the one the team just had. You remember how much she struggled from her own mind, how they left her in a cell, just as the Avengers now have to Wanda, and you remember the thin walls, where Natasha could overhear all their arguments regardless of how you tried to distract her. 

It isn't a surprise to you when you open Natasha's door and she refuses to speak. She watches you enter and makes space for you to sit beside her on the bed, but she doesn't speak. You talk to her for a bit, praising her stance, but it's clear she needs longer alone.

"I'll be here when you need," you say. She nods. You walk back to where you're needed most, passing through the common room still full of arguing Avengers on your way.

"Stop thinking about yourselves for once, and think about your fucking team," you say without even stopping to look at them, then you continue your path out of the room.

»»————-　★　————-««

Guilt sets in on the remaining Avengers as they fall to silence yet again. Clint reminds them what Natasha went through and from that memory, Natasha's hasty exit, and your outburst after seeing the assassin, they can all conclude how much the topic has hurt their teammate.

Clint apologies through her bedroom door; the others say sorry to her face once she lets them in. Natasha sighs, then nods her acceptance of their apologies. "The person you really should be saying this to is Wanda. She deserves support, not solitary isolation."

"Yeah, I don't think it's all that solitary," Tony says. He flicks his wrist to the wall, and soon enough FRIDAY is displaying a feed of Wanda's cell.

"Is that Y/N?" Steve asks, squinting for a better look.

Meanwhile, Natasha smiles, recognising the scene in front of her and knowing, with certainty, that it was you. She watches you and Wanda sit cross-legged on the floor with a plastic yellow board coming up between you. You both analyse it closely until you pull a circular blue chip from your hand and slide it in.

"That's four!" you cheer. Pointing out the four circles you had managed to connect. Wanda frowns, but you can tell it is not akin to the sorrow she had felt so often recently. At this moment, her mind is distracted entirely from that and focused only on the game. 

"We have to play again. I can win this, I know," the Sokovian frowns. "I get first move."

You're still dividing the 'connect 4' pieces into their respective colours when a knock sounds on the cell door. You look up as Natasha opens the door, greeting Wanda with a smile.

"You doing okay?" you ask.

Natasha nods. "Thank you for being here, Y/N. And as for Wanda-" she switches her gaze- "we've got a room prepared for you if you're willing to stay. You can learn to control your powers; the team agreed I can train you."

"I would like that," Wanda mumbles, her nerves around the assassin still clear.

"Come on then, I'll take you to your room.” Natasha smiles and escorts her out, but before falling out of your earshot, she leans into Wanda conspiratorially, “I’ll even give you the secret to beating Y/N at that game.”

[zepskies]

hey love!! so in awe of your writing & writing style and i wanted to ask which fic of yours is your favorite?

Well hey there, my lovely!

Oh wow, you're so kind, thank you!! 🥰💜💜 That is a tough question... So I'm going to cheat a little bit and give you my top 3:

3. Smoke Eater (Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.  That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator. 

This was my first full AU series. It came from my love of Chicago Fire and medical and cop procedurals like it. Throw in a murder mystery, arson, former playboy Dean, and other angsty storylines in the middle of a whirlwind romance, and you got yourself a firefighter AU! ❤️‍🔥

2. Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

I feel like most people would expect me to answer this one for number one, but it's still very close to my heart. It was my first real foray into the complex, lovable asshole known as Soldier Boy (Ben).

And it was my attempt at creating a redemption arc for him through an "enemies to lovers" story, edgier than anything I'd done previously, thanks to the grittiness of The Boys world.

I've continued writing far past the original series because I just can't quit these two, and this version of Ben.

1. Midnight Espresso Series (Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized Latina Reader)

This is a collection of stories in the SPN fandom, and it's very personal to me! (I'm plus-sized and Latina.) Though I tried to make it so all readers, regardless of race/ethnicity or otherwise, could enjoy those stories as well.

It gave me the chance to pair Dean with a reader character who is also a giver like him, who looks out for and cares for him in the same way he cares for others, all while being a badass hunter herself.

From dramatic and angsty hurt/comfort to fluffy smut, I've tried to explore many facets of their relationship, while utilizing both my heritage/culture and my personal experience with body insecurity, body shaming, etc. Like BMD, this is a series I can always come back to and write more stories for. 💜

Bonus: The Honorable Choice - (Dean W. x OFC)

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

I haven't dropped this one yet, but I'm mentioning it because it's currently one of my favorite projects that I've worked on so far!

⬆️ Part 1 coming on 11/03 (Read it on Patreon now!)

[katerinaaqu]

The Death of Odysseus: The funeral

This is an old request done by @that-greek-mythology-girl when she asked me in an ask for an extra chapter for my 3 part fic about Odysseus dying and traveling to the underworld. So this is that extra chapter showing that specific story. Sorry I was so late! Set after, Part 1 , Part 2 and Part 3 (Although one can say they happen simoultaneously too! Your choice!)

The night was not particularly hot that day and yet Telemachus was sweating. It was a long night and celebrations were indeed lasting way longer than expected. It wasn’t that it wasn’t a good thing; it was just that the King of Ithaca felt rather uncomfortable staying in large crowds for too long. Surely he would pinpoint his natural shyness or natural introverted nature or even his experience for over five nightmarish years when he was constantly harassed and taunted by over a hundred men, some of them barely a few years older than himself, who wished to force his mother to new matrimony. Whatever the reason was, Telemachus preferred just to sit on his throne and enjoy his wine while observing rather than engaging too much into conversations. He even felt rather dizzy and he needed his moment of peace before he finally decided to retire to bed after a short walk in the gardens to clear his head. There was an intriguing sensation that wouldn’t leave him in peace. His wife; a real beauty with hair in the color of walnut and large brown eyes, was walking by his side, holding his arm as well, making sure he was alright.

“Now, now…” Nausicaa chuckled, “You do speak about your father but you too lost control tonight!”

Telemachus smiled shyly.

“I know, Nausicaa…I am sorry for that. I guess I got carried away!”

Entering their temporary chambers made him sigh in relief in his little sanctuary. He removed the circlet of gold from his head with a sigh of contentment, placing it aside.

“Perseptolis is…”

“He is fine, Telemachus” Nausicaa said, assisting her husband out of his mantle and some of his jewelry, “He went to bed hours ago”

“Ah…good…” Telemachus mumbled absentmindedly

“It is good that Theoklymenos is taking good care of him as his tutor. He knows a lot”

“He was godsend, that’s for sure!” her husband replied, “If it weren’t of him I would be dead now… He just needed a second chance in life and he hasn’t disappointed ever since…even if he is old now…”

“That’s you, my darling…” Nausicaa smiled removing her own rich garments and jewelry, letting her long hair cascade down her back over her light, cotton dress, “You always see the best in people… You are always kind…a bit naïve at times but…”

“Hmm…”

Nausicaa looked over from the cloth she used to remove her makeup. It was obvious her husband hadn’t heard a word. His eyes were stuck to nothingness in deep thought. For a moment he reminded her of him…his father. His eyes would also glue themselves to nothingness, appearing like out of the world. It was just his eyes were black as coal while Telemachus had the gentle blue eyes of his mother.

“Seriously, Telemachus, what’s wrong?” now his wife seemed worried, “You seemed weird all night ever since your father retired to bed. Care to share with me what’s going on?”

Telemachus eyed her and his blue eyes shone apprehensively. His wife was a very clever and bright young woman. He couldn’t believe his ears and eyes when his father came back from his redemption trip and had this treasure with him on the ship and announced him that he had found him a bride. For Telemachus it was almost love at first sight. He never expected that to happen to him but it had. Nausicaa was incredible wife and even better queen, bringing knowledge and treasures from her own homeland. A few years later she brought to this world their son, Perseptolis and only then Telemachus could really comprehend what his father must have felt for him and his mother. Nausicaa and Perseptolis were his entire world; two stars in a nightly sky. Telemachus could entrust literally anything to his wife and his wife was always there for him. Despite the sudden news, Telemachus was now grateful to his father for casually bringing a wife to him. In one way Telemachus who was raised protected almost like a child till the day he was 20 suddenly felt like growing as a person. How strange, he thought thinking back, I didn’t consider myself as much of a man when I killed those dreadful men but when I got married; when I have gotten someone to love and protect…someone I felt completed me! He wasn’t so sure he would be as good king as he was now if he hadn’t Nausicaa by his side! There were moments, though, where he felt there was a shadow between them even after all these years. Telemachus couldn’t or didn’t want to put his finger on it. Much less now. He sighed and ran his hand through his long, thick, curly hair.

“Nothing in particular…it is just…” he tried to put his thoughts in order, “When we spoke…father was… He seemed very strange to me…sad and yet happy at the same time…hard to explain but…”

He nervously played with the end of his beard.

“It almost felt like he was trying to… If you heard what he told me he…” he softly bit the corner of his fingernail; a habit he had developed ever since he was a child

Nausicaa sighed and playfully slapped his hand down.

“He is a grown man, Telemachus” she said, slowly opening her husband’s shirt to help him remove his clothes for bed, “I am sure he knows how to take care of himself!”

“I know!” Telemachus retaliated, “Is not that is just… I just don’t like this feeling that’s all.”

“Is this the reason why you were a bit gloom drinking tonight?”

Telemachus thought for a second and then nodded.

“Perhaps…I am not sure”

“I am sure is just you over thinking again, my dear…” Nausicaa said airily, “That’s what you do. You always worry too much and over think”

“Do I?”

“You do. It is who you are. You always think too much, you care too much. It is part of your charm.”

Telemachus sighed a bit as his wife helped him out of his shirt and sandals. She often did that; attending to him herself, the same much as he attended to his father. It felt more familiar; more intimate that way.

“You always take care of me, Nausicaa…” he whispered

Nausicaa’s answer was a soft chuckle and a kiss to his cheek.

“I am your wife” she said emphatically, “I’m supposed to…”

Telemachus had no answer to that. He smiled softly and finished the rest of his toilette before bed. He made a praying gesture with his hand for protection.

“Where are you going?” Nausicaa asked seeing him walking to the door

“To father” Telemachus admitted, “Wanted to check on him”

“Leave him be, my dear” Nausicaa held on him, “He’s asleep. Don’t disturb him now”

“But…”

“Please, Telemachus, come to bed. You need to rest now otherwise you won’t have a fresh mind tomorrow”

Telemachus sighed. Truth to be told, he was kind of tipsy and he needed to have a clear head the next day; not to mention how his father said he would sleep. And yet that feeling tickling his gut wouldn’t leave him in peace. He absentmindedly caressed her arm in deep thought. Nausicaa kissed his hand tenderly.

“Enough with the gloom thoughts. It is too late, I am tired and I cannot rest properly without you by my side, you know it! Come to bed with me”

Telemachus smirked.

“Are you seriously trying to seduce me to obtain healthy sleeping habits?”

“Is it working?”

Direct. Clear. Honest. That was probably the thing he drew him to her the most. He smirked again, reminding for a little while he was his father’s son.

“Yes”

*

He had no idea what made him wake up but when he did the sun was softly caressing his face directly. He felt the familiar yet pleasant weight of his wife’s head on his chest but that was not the weight he was concerned on with right now. The same feeling of uneasiness he had felt the night prior was still there. It wasn’t the light dizziness he had from drinking the night before that was causing it. It was something profound that wouldn’t leave him in peace. He tried to move without waking her but he should have known by now. She was a light sleeper.

“Hmm…Telemachus…?” she whispered, “What’s wrong? It’s too early”

“Go back to sleep, my love…” Telemachus smiled, putting a robe over his body, “It’s early. I just…I need to check on him before I move to the hall…”

“Hmm…Okay…” Nausicaa stretched herself, “I will follow you later. Shall I order for your bath to be prepared?”

“Oh, yes, please” the King of Ithaca smiled, “I will need it to clear my head a bit”

Fixing a bit his messy hair and beard with his fingers, Telemachus marched across the hall. He didn’t spot Odysseus. Usually his father would wake before the crack of dawn (habit he picked from his years at war along with his old age) and he would rouse the servants to start the day. Then he had the habit of going to Perseptolis and wake him up for his lessons before walking out to the gardens. This alone had him worried. Had his father more to drink than they thought that he needed to stay in bed longer? He moved to the olive tree chamber.

“Father” he called from the door, “Are you awake yet?”

He got no response. That was strange. His father was not a heavy sleeper and he certainly wasn’t THAT drunk the night before so that he would be in a deep sleep. He walked in without thinking much.

“Father, come on, the day has begun time to…”

His voice froze. Odysseus was indeed in bed, covered with his favorite blanket. One of his arms was outside of it, as if he had reached for something before. He was unmoving, circled by fallen leaves and olive flowers. His face looked pale and his lips were smiling. He looked like sleeping indeed; a peaceful sleep and yet he was unmoving. Cold. Frozen.

“F-Father…?”

Telemachus cared to touch the wrinkled cheek of his father. It was cold to the touch.

“No…” he whispered tears burning his eyes

He felt his chest twitch by sobs. Suddenly he was a child again, crying tears plenty and salty like the sea. He sat on the edge of the olive bed, slowly lifting that old body in his arms, placing his lips upon his forehead and the top of his head. He let more tears flow upon that cold, lifeless body. More burning sensation down his throat as his fears had been confirmed.

“Liar…!” he whispered between his sobbing, “L-Liar…! The last thing you said to me…was a lie…! F-Father…! Gods…”

Why was he crying so much? His father was old. He had reached his 80th year of life. None of the kings he knew ever lived that long. Not even his grandfather Icarius who was alive when he was 20. And yet Telemachus knew…he had lost the last family he had. Right now he truly was alone.

“Gods…!” he whispered sobbing, “H-Hermes…Argophontes…p-please take care of his soul…P-Persephone…accept my father down to your embrace…!”

His father was dead. He would never hear his voice again; his laughter, his advice, his stories from war and his trips… He was orphaned now. He thought he was 20 years prior and yet now that he lived with his father for so long and bonded with him his loss was much more painful than he would ever think of, even if he was prepared theoretically for his passing. Nausicaa barged into the room with some of her handmaidens.

“Telemachus what takes you… Oh…”

She saw her husband, holding his father and crying as if he were a baby that had lost his favorite puppy; not able to part with it upon the face of death. She didn’t need her intelligence to know. Odysseus, the son of Laërtes had finally met his inevitable death.

“Cry for your king…” Telemachus whispered, acknowledging their presence in the room, “Come, women! Mourn! Mourn and cry, paint your faces with tears and ash. The King of Cephallinians is dead!”

The slaves released a wail of sorrow and released their hairs from their headpieces, pulling them with both their hands, tearing their clothes and cheeks and beating their chests and knees with their hands. The sorrow was presented so typically and yet Telemachus wanted to believe they weren’t pretending. Odysseus was beloved to his household. He wanted to believe they truly cried with him. He saw Nausicaa, his wife, trying to hold her composure, for him, for their position. But her eyes were tearful. She approached him, placing her soft hand on his large shoulder.

“Go…” she murmured to him, “Go…you must cleanse yourself from the miasma of death and announce it to the world…that he passed to the realm of the One of Many Names. Leave the mourning and funeral to us…it is our job”

Telemachus’s answer was a moan of pain. He didn’t want to let him go. Not yet. He was barely sobbing; barely audible and yet Nausicaa could hear him clearly over the mourning of the women who wailed and cried for their dead king.

“Go, my love…” she repeated, “You must do your duty…”

For a moment her thoughts ran to her own father; how would she feel if she were this close as Telemachus was to his own? She lifted the thoughts away. She had to stand by her husband for this. She owed him this much. Telemachus slowly and reluctantly placed his father back to his pillows. He began walking away, being patted on the back by his wife for consolation.

“Oh…h-his blanket…we must let him keep…his blanket…” he mumbled

“He will” Nausicaa assured him, “Go, please!”

She then turned to the maids still mourning.

“Go, fetch water from the sea and oils and ointments! We must prepare the king for his final destination! And bring sage and sulphous to cleanse this place from the miasma of death. Go! All of you!”

And she was left alone. Only then she let her tears flow down her cheeks as she approached the death bed and leaned over the dead king.

“So…you finally decided it was time to leave…” she whispered, “You left…again… Like you did to me the first time…touched our hearts and minds…and left…”

Her hand hovered for a second. She hesitated, possibly her natural aversion towards death; perhaps the feelings she had once hosted in her heart she had kept to herself in her youth kind of reminded her of the man she saved at her land so many years ago. Eventually she touched his white, curly locks and cold cheek, lovingly; soothing the details.

“And…” she suppressed a sob, “You were right…I truly weren’t the one for you… If you had let me love you more than what I already did then… now this moment would seem unbearable to me. You were right. Of course you were. Our difference in age was indeed that great… And you brought me a husband, someone that I loved with all my heart…who gave me love in return…who gave me my beautiful boy, whom you named…and helped us raise…”

She stopped to mop some tears from her cheeks.

“I will take care of him…” she promised, “Your precious Telemachus…and your grandson…I will do my best to make them happy… I promise you with all my heart…”

She leaned down and placed her lips upon that cold forehead, releasing her tears once more.

“Goodbye for now…my first love…” she finally whispered

*

The day seemed gray and cloudy for everyone that day. The palace was set for deep mourning as everyone was crying for the king that passed away. Women wore their black and dark gray dresses and men did the same. The palace smelt of incense and sage that was sending away the miasma of death and flowers were arranged as well as the personal belongings of the king that he would have with him in the tomb. The King and the Queen were doing their best to keep the ceremony according to the greatness the name of Odysseus bore to the island and to the rest of the kingdom. Nausicaa was worried about Telemachus. He always was a quiet and reserved person but after he received the news and discovered the body of his father he hardly spoke a word to anyone apart from the typical words to the servants that organized the funeral and to prepare everything for the funerary rites and games for the glory of his father’s passing. There was a shadow all over his features and Nausicaa didn’t like that. Not that she was afraid that Telemachus would despair; he was far too strong for that, but he was also sensitive and he was very close to his father plus it wasn’t the death itself that made him so. There seemed to be a million questions in his eyes and Nausicaa was afraid of them. They seemed to be questions he had reserved for years. These were her thoughts as she walked into their room already dressed for the funeral.

“Telemachus…everyone is ready…”

She stopped in her tracks before what she saw. Telemachus was sitting on a chair, already dressed in gray and black and had a razor in his hand…several small strands of hair to the floor. Half of his long till shoulders hair was already cut. She eyed him and he eyed her. Somehow words didn’t seem needed.

“Can you help me…?” Telemachus asked almost immediately, “I can’t do this on my own…”

She smiled sadly.

“Give me the razor…” she said

With soft yet capable fingers she slowly combed his long hair and half-braided it in one braid, trying to get a better view on the shape of them and then began to cut, one by one the rope-like curls of her husband’s.

“You’re very good at this…” Telemachus whispered

Nausicaa smiled sadly.

“I helped several of my slave girls cut their hair before….” She said as a matter of fact

“Ah…that explains it…”

His voice was low, almost nonchalant.

“Everyone is almost here” Nausicaa spoke again, “The funeral will be exactly as you want it, my love…”

She felt his wide shoulders tense; as if they suddenly were weighted down by something.

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

The question hovered in the air like a terrible accusation. His voice was hoarse from sorrow and crying but it also hid plenty of frustration; anger even…plenty of unasked “why”s and “how”s in his manner. The sudden, direct question after almost two decades of marriage left her shocked.

“What…?”

“Please!” Telemachus suddenly exploded, “No more lies! I had enough of lies!”

His voice was almost trembling. He seemed ready to cry again.

“Don’t you think I didn’t notice? How you looked at him? My father! You loved him, don’t deny it!”

“Telemachus…I…”

“Nausicaa!” suddenly Telemachus looked at her and his eyes were piercing his soul, “Did you love me because I look like my father?”

The razor remained in her hands but his words cut much deeper than any blade would have. Such a direct and painful question! Was this what he was holding in his heart all these years?

“Telemachus…” she whispered, “Why do you hurt me this much? How could you say this to me!”

“Answer me!” Telemachus urged, “Did you love me because I look like him?”

“That’s not what happened, Telemachus!”

She sighed trying to collect her thoughts. She feared this day would come but she had prayed with all her heart it never would.

“I loved your father…” she finally whispered, “From the first time I saw him that day when he showed up before me; shipwrecked, ragged and naked; hit by the sea and fate… I loved him, yes, my father wanted him to marry me. I wouldn’t have said no. But your father didn’t love me, not like that. He wanted to come here, back to his wife…to you. Then one day, years later he came back to our island. He had the proposal for me I would come here. He looked at me in the eyes and said Nausicaa I never forgot my promise to you; for you gave me life and you deserve to be paid back for the good that you did to me. I cannot be your husband but I have found you a husband more suitable…a better man than what I ever wished to be. Come with me if you shall meet him and I bring to you the wedding gifts needed for your noble father…”

She sighed once, lost in her own recollections.

“That’s how he spoke and his words were soft like snowflakes at a first snowfall at the end of autumn. His rejection hurt me. But I trusted him and he took me with him and brought me here…to meet you…”

Her fingers hesitatingly started their work again, cutting her husband’s hair short.

“It is true that you drew my attention because you looked like your father; the man that inspired love in my heart for the first time in my life as a young, inexperienced woman that I was…However, Telemachus…” she brought her hand to her mouth to stop a moan from rising, she had to be strong, “I didn’t love you for that. I loved you because you are different from your father”

He looked at her. His blue eyes almost liquid; like a trapped animal waiting its doom.

“What?”

“You are not your father, Telemachus, your father was right. You are a far better man; kinder, softer, considerate of others… Yes, you do not have his renounced name or cunning but you have your wisdom, your heart…your ability to see good in people… I was drawn to you because you looked like your father…the reason I loved you, the reason I was so happy that I bore your child and rule this kingdom by your side is because you are totally different…”

She held his face in her hands.

“You are you, Telemachus…” she said emphatically, “Never doubt this, for Odysseus never did…”

And then she saw Telemachus come undone. Tears flowed out of his eyes; tears of relief and thankfulness. It was as if the thing he held inside him all these years stopped bothering him anymore; one less pain for him to feel now. He kissed his wife’s hand and palm and Nausicaa felt his lips burning. It was his way to apologize for his fears and doubts. For one more time words were not needed between them. The past that haunted them was there no more.

“There…” Nausicaa said, “I am done…”

Telemachus looked at his now shorter curls to the bronze spectrum. He touched his head with his hand.

“Thank you, you did very good job…”

“Looks good on you…” Nausicaa noted, running her fingers through it

“I seriously hope so…” Telemachus said, “For this shall be my haircut from now on”

His wife looked at him questionably.

“This world lost the last great man of the first of Troy…” Telemachus whispered, “I finally lost my father whom I thought dead for 20 years and I lived with for other 20… I shall mourn for him for 20 more to come…till my last breath…”

Nausicaa teared up but she smiled.

“If that’s what you wish, husband, I have nothing more to say…”

Telemachus stood up and placed the golden circlet around his head.

“Let’s go…” he said, “Our guests are here…it is time for the funeral…”

*

The King of Cephallinians was set upon his deathbed, dressed in his finest clothes and armor, like the warrior he was all his life. His head was adorned by a red-plumed helmet adorned with boar tusks. His sigil ring with the dolphin was on his finger. His bronze sword by his side and the golden mask covering his face. The obolus was already placed between his teeth for the boatman to let him pass; the locks of hair of his loved ones under his hands. Odysseus shone, just like radiant people of his land perceived him during the war of Troy… The body was lying upon the shroud made by Nausicaa and the precious blanket made by Penelope. Odysseus was seen off by his wife and daughter; the daughter that had given him his precious grandchild. The procession was moving slow, with the bed being lifted by the most faithful servants he had (two of them were the sons of Philoetius and two the sons of Eumeus with the wives Odysseus himself had picked for them). The women were mourning and chanting as the priest and prophets were singing their hymns to Persephone and the rebirth of the underworld. Behind them came the royal family. Telemachus walked steadfast and proud; his tall and well-built physique and he looked even paler as his already pale skin was toned up by the black on his clothes and the thick black beard. Nausicaa was also dressed in gray and had her cheeks scratched according to custom, shedding silent tears when she could. Their son, Perseptolis following with his tutor, Theoklymenos (the man Telemachus once saved). He seemed sad and confused. His grandfather would no longer play with him or show him things or teach him or promise him the trees that were for him after he would be gone… Now he really was gone and Perseptolis didn’t know how to take it. He only knew he had to be strong for his father who seemed to suffer the most.

Telemachus looked at the side as they moved upon the high rocks. He thought he saw a little girl sitting by the rock, one leg hanging from the edge and the other drawn to her chest. Her short, blondish hair was curly like his and her physique small and frail. She only had one black dress on her that reached till her skinny knees. And yet Telemachus could have sworn the girl was looking at him. He could see her shiny her gray eyes despite the distance. Her eyes seemed almost tearful and yet they were not. Telemachus felt the power in his veins emitted from that presence. His eyes watered and then he shed a tear. It was as if he shed the tear the girl couldn’t physically shed. He bowed his head at her as if by instinct. He averted his eyes for one second and the next the girl was gone as if she was never there. They reached the tomb and the slaves opened it. Telemachus felt his heart clench. He had opened that monument before when he buried his mother. And now his father had come to join her. He watched the slaves place the funeral bed inside, according to his instructions; leave it by the side of Penelope. He felt a squeeze in his hand from his wife. He squeezed it back. The prayers and cries became louder as the rock shielded the monument anew. Telemachus closed his eyes to fight back the tears.

It was done…

His father was to his final home…

*

The funerary banquet had everything their hearts could desire. Telemachus was more than generous as the meat of the sacrifice was also well-cooked and served. He had also ordered the best pig and the fattest goats to be slaughtered and cooked. There was also fish and vegetables and a variety of legumes to feed the guests. He had also picked the best wine from the kingdom and Scheria to offer to his guests.

Odysseus was a good host. He was entertaining for one last time.

Telemachus knew the dead man was the host and they were all eating and drinking to his name. He wanted to offer him the good passing; make sure he knew they would remember him; that they would be happy in his name and continue their life. And then the funerary matches happened. There was a running and a discus throw race with rich gifts given to the three contestants to win. Then there was a wrestling match and a sword fight. Telemachus watched and never intervened. He congratulated the winners and awarded them, he also thanked those who lost and praised them for their talents and efforts. The celebrations were about to finish when Telemachus stood up. Everyone fell silent. Telemachus removed a key hanging from his neck and passed it to his wife.

“My wife…” he said, “Take this key and please go down to the armory. Fetch me my father’s old bow. Tell the servants to bring the hollow axes!”

The sound of surprise passed like aura over the waves of the sea. The request was so sudden; so unexpected. And yet no one felt like refusing.

“Are you sure?” Nausicaa asked

Telemachus stood proud; steadfast. Certain.

“I am.”

And the Queen of Ithaca smiled. She took the key and moved to the old armory and unlocked it. On the wall there was the infamous heavy bow of which she had heard so many stories of. She took it in her hands, as if she lifted the sacred clothes to dress the statue of a god and carried it out. Telemachus took it in his strong hand. He hesitated. What if he wasn’t worthy of it? What if he became ridiculed by the entire kingdom for his request to use it? He shook his head and grasped the bow with both hands. He warmed the fat to the flame and smeared the wood; making sure it would be soft so it wouldn’t be cracked and then he pulled. The wood creaked and moaned; Telemachus felt sweat peaking to his forehead and yet the bow barely moved a bit. Telemachus felt his body tensing. No! He couldn’t give up!

“Why! Why can’t I…? Oh, gods…forgive me, father…maybe I am not worthy of your legacy after all…”

“Telemachus…”

It was a voice; an ethereal and heavenly female voice that echoed deep inside him. He looked to the side. The magnificent woman wearing the radiant bronze and gold armor; with the gorgoneion adorning her chest over her green aegis; the double-plumed helmet shining gold and a spear in hand. Her skin was clear and pore-less, iridescent even; often white as ivory often gaining a light color as the sun moved on it.

“Athena!”

Pallas Athena stood there, smiling softly; invisible and unheard to everyone else but him. Her hand touched his shoulder. Telemachus nearly felt a fire in his chest.

“Don’t forget, Telemachus… Your father was a strong man but his real strength was not his arms or legs or the power of his body. Think, Telemachus…and you shall have your answer…”

And then Telemachus knew. Somehow he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner! He set the bow on the ground and passed his strong leg through it and then he bended the bow using his body as a lever. The gasps he heard and the smile of the patron goddess of his father, no, his family, gave him strength anew as the bow bended slowly yet steadily. Telemachus grabbed the string and passed it through and then he knew… He had managed to solve his father’s puzzle. It never was about strength. Not entirely. The answer was there all along. He tested the string. It played the tune of a well-tuned lyre, ready to sing anew after so long.

“Bring the axes…” he ordered

“Shall we use all 12, master?” the servant asked (He was Autologos, the son of Philoetius).

“No” Telemachus said, “Bring more”

“M-More, master?” the man almost chocked, “H-How many?”

“Twenty” Telemachus answered with a confidence he never felt before. “Twenty years I lost my father…twenty years I had him. Twenty shall be the axes of my test”

Once more his words were heard. His mind ran back to his youth where the blasted suitors would ignore his pleas or orders. Now his voice was heard; his orders were followed. Right now he knew he was a changed man. He had grown over the years. He watched the axes set in equal distances and then grabbed the bow. His strong arms and back worked to pull the string. He aimed. He stood there for a few seconds. His limbs had gained strength anew; something he felt flattering in his heart. It was like a primitive fire inside him; the spirit of his father; the spirit of his goddess! He released a breath, like the breath of a soul leaving the body and then the arrow was released.

The bow sang once more like a swallow

The arrow whistled in the air

Passed through the axes.

It got stuck to the tree behind them.

Telemachus slowly, almost in a ritual manner, lowered the bow. He drew a deep breath; the flowers of the mountain, the salt of the sea, the smell of the animals and crops. He smelt Ithaca. Yes, he knew now more than ever this place gave strength. He understood now. And now it was totally his to keep and protect. And he would protect it to his last breath! His eyes were no longer tearful. His heart was light.

Have a good rest… My King…Odysseus…Man of Many Wiles…Man Much Tormented… Sacker of Cities…King of Ithaca…King of Cephallinians…

Goodbye…

Father��

***

So this request is finally done... Unfortunately the reason I was so inspired to finish it was because today I lost one good conversation partner here on Tumblr for they deleated their account. They couldn't stand the toxicity of some people attacking them They were one of the few people getting out of their way to read my stories and ACTUALLY leave lengthy and meaningful comments under them for discussion and that meant so much to me. Now unfortunately their comments are gone and their account deactivated and couldn't even say a proper goodbye to them deleating their account for they were THAT eager to get out of this... I hope I shall see them in the future but still all the amazing comments and conversations we had no longer will be there... So yes inspiration for this request.

I combined funerary customs of Bronze Age times such as the tombs that were opened and re-opened to put new individuals in as much as we theorize but also the prothesis and funerary meals and games that we see in Homer and in later archaic and classical Greece.

And as you see here we have also the choice of Nausicaa as the mother of Perseptolis (an idea discussed with @ditoob too among others along with them expressing the need to see more stuff on mature Telemachus out there)

Some Nausicaa and Telemachus drama too.

Special thanks to @cr4zy-cycl0n3 for their comment to the second part of the main story and @styberusartz to the first one. And as always @loco-bird account!

Working also on ideas with @artsofmetamoor as always!

[umbracirrus]

Umbracirrus Writing Masterlist

Originally, some of my writing masterlist was contained within my pinned post, though it hadn't been updated since April, and the post in question felt horribly long. So, I decided to make this list separate to my pinned post and to have it link to this instead.

It is split into multi-chapter fanfictions and oneshots, with the oneshots all at the bottom. It only includes things which I have posted at least one chapter of (or posted all of, in the case of oneshots)! And I happen to have.... Well, a lot of other things in progress not even mentioned here.

Masterlist last updated: 27th October 2024

Multi-Chapter fics

The Perfect Storm (On AO3) - In Progress

Skyrim fanfiction

Balgruuf the Greater/Dragonborn (Elyse Verne - OC); background Irileth/Hrongar

Rated E on AO3

Slow burn, Romance, Skyrim's chaotic politics, Skyrim Civil War, eventual sexual content

Summary:

“What do you think will burn better? Another ballad of Mikael’s about Whiterun’s ‘assets’, or yet another letter from Ulfric Stormcloak asking for me to join him?" When the Dragonborn is facing pressure to choose a side in the brewing war, she sticks with the side which holds a special place in her heart. She picks Whiterun.

Seeking the Sun (On AO3) - In Progress, precursor to The Perfect Storm

Skyrim fanfiction

Dragonborn (Elyse Verne - OC)

Rated M on AO3

Adventure, Angst, Skyrim main quest, minor canon divergence

She was free to go wherever she wished, drift around and allow her whims to guide her feet. But she had a plan… and that plan was Skyrim. Yes, it was a land full of strife, but it was still a place of great significance to her. It was her mother's homeland. When Elyse finds her life in Cyrodiil too painful to bare, she makes the decision to travel north, to Skyrim - unaware that she was Dragonborn, and that her decision would soon determine not just her own fate, but the fate of Skyrim... and potentially that of the world itself.

Tenacity (On Tumblr) - In Progress, prequel to both Seeking the Sun and The Perfect Storm

Skyrim fanfiction (based in 4E 172/173 - approximately 28/29 years pre-game)

Edwyn Verne (OC)/Ingja Frosthand (OC)

Chapters - {1} (currently only posted on Tumblr, not AO3)

Enemies to lovers, Forbidden romance, tragedy with a happy ending

"Stay away from those mages and their college. They are nothing but bad news." That message had been instilled in Ingja since she was but a child. So after a chance encounter leads to her getting to know Edwyn, an aspirational student of conjuration in the College, she realises that perhaps... mages simply aren't as bad as their reputation would say.

Tempest (on AO3) - In Progress

Skyrim fanfiction (based in the same version of Skyrim as The Perfect Storm, but is a standalone fic)

Thorne (OC)/Vilkas, past Thorne/Brynjolf

Rated M on AO3

Enemies to lovers, Found family, Secrets, Mental health issues, Companions questline, past Thieves Guild questline

The Thieves Guild were like the family which Thorne never had, though she never felt as though she truly fit in, even after reaching position of guildmaster. After a heart-to-heart with Brynjolf, she finds herself planning to amicably part ways with the guild and find somewhere that she could belong. Somewhere that she could feel happy. That somewhere ends up being Jorrvaskr much to the chagrin of Vilkas, who feels that she is hiding more than she is letting on.

With light comes shadow (On AO3) - In Progress

Oblivion fanfiction (featuring two heroes of Kvatch)

Martin Septim/Hero of Kvatch (Florian Livius - OC); uncertain if my other HoK, Drissa Arys (OC), will have a relationship established or not.

Rated M on AO3

Character Redemption/Condemnation, Oblivion Main Quest, Oblivion Dark Brotherhood, canon character death, Found family

At a pivotal time for the Empire, in the wake of the Emperor’s death, two so-called heroes emerge from the ashes of Kvatch - an incompetent thief and a disgraced arena fighter. One takes the chance at redemption. The other seeks their own ruin.

Oneshots

A Moment in the Sunset (On here and AO3)

Skyrim fanfiction

Balgruuf the Greater (Elyse Verne - OC)

Rated M on AO3

As the sun sets across Skyrim, the Dragonborn and Jarl of Whiterun spend a peaceful few moments on the porch of Dragonsreach.

"Do you surrender?" (On AO3)

Skyrim fanfiction

Balgruuf the Greater/Dragonborn (Elyse Verne - OC)

Rated E on AO3 (sexual content)

When business in Whiterun grows far too tedious for Balgruuf's liking, he takes a break to find his wife in order let off some steam. What starts out as a sparring session with Elyse on the Dragonsreach porch takes a heated turn.

Kiss (On here)

Skyrim fanfiction

Balgruuf the Greater/Dragonborn (Elyse Verne - OC)

To be part of a bigger oneshot in the future (or maybe added in to The Perfect Storm eventually :3)

Elyse and Balgruuf sneak out of Dragonsreach for a night in the Bannered Mare without telling anyone, not even their housecarls, and end up sharing a dessert. A very messy dessert.

Purity (On here and AO3)

Skyrim fanfiction

Vilkas/Dragonborn (Thea - OC)

Rated T on AO3

An odd, prickly feeling went down Vilkas' spine as he watched Thea navigate towards a wall, which upon further inspection, looked to have an indent about the size of a door. The sensation made him shiver, and he had to stretch his fingers with anticipation. Sweat was also pouring down the back of his neck, a looming sense of… not quite terror, but more along the lines that something was going to go awfully wrong if he were to go any further.

Starlit (On here)

Skyrim fanfiction

Miraak

Miraak looks up at the night sky after his long-awaited freedom from Apocrypha.

[devine-devil]

Hello, is there any chance that Caul and Alma will come to an understanding and finish the ANE fic together ruling the world

No, never, ever, not a chance of that happening.

I've ignored questions similar to this before, but I think I better get this out of the way once and for all.

A new era is not a fucking sick romance, I took every care in the world so that nothing was romanticized, NOTHING.

I made Caul the worst person in the universe, the worst monster ever written in a book, a mix of the worst villains I've ever seen. I made the character worth every letter of the word VILLAIN. Precisely because I didn't want anyone to even consider romanticizing any of the absurd things he does.

Caul is a monster and Alma hates him with every particle of her being. I didn't write an enemies to lover, or a bizarre dark romance. It's a bad ending.

Caul in ANE received strong influence from the Governor of the books of the walking dead, Just AM computer from: I have no mouth and I must scream. And there's no reference to Judge Holden because I hadn't read Blood Meridian when I started the fanfic. I turned a horrible person into the worst monster the world has ever seen. So please don't expect redemption from this guy, he didn't even get redemption in Canon!

I should have been prepared for questions like this considering I've seen people who really support the governor from TWD, or homelander, and other horrible characters. But I think I'm really not ready for this, this kind of thing takes me off track, it really demotivates me from continuing to write.

Please don't ask me things like that because I really don't like it.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Poll 2- Past Winners

This poll is for which fic you want to see updated on July 14th as part of my 7 day birthday gifts to the fans! If you are unfamiliar with my works or need a reminder, check out the links and summaries below the “read more” before you vote. Other poll information for this week can be found here.

And any fics that don’t win but still collect a substantial amount of votes are eligible for a Redemption Vote on June 6th! Otherwise, thank you for your participation! 😍😁

Just to See You Happy- Frodo Time Travel Fix-It; Frodo has carried the Ring and deserves as much rest as any mortal can bear. He refuses to see his mission as complete until Bilbo finds his happiness. When Valinor does not hold the answer he needs, he launches himself into the past into an adventure that doesn’t belong to him all in the hope of finding Bilbo’s happiness.

Soul Traitor- Reincarnation Soulmate AU; Betrayal among soulmates is unheard of in all the free races of Arda, yet that’s exactly what Durin VI, King of Khazad-dûm, endures. Heartsick and angry, he damns the Valar for their choice and earns their wrath in return. He and his former love will be reincarnated until the wrong between them is righted. Thorin Oakenshield, Durin’s lastest reincarnation, believes nothing can break that curse but for the Arkenstone that was stolen so many years ago. Gandalf, the meddlesome wizard, offers a hobbit translator for their quest. Yet, this hobbit may be the key to uncovering more than just a gem. An ugly truth that has remained hidden in the misdeeds and lost words of the past, about to be unlocked and free Thorin and Bilbo from this seemingly never ending cycle.

A Mother’s Curse- Reverse Werewolf AU; A mistake made during the Fell Winter has turned Bilbo into a werewolf. Having always wondered if there was a way to reverse his curse, Gandalf believes he has found the answer. And it will require Bilbo to travel with a company of thirteen dwarves determined to take back their homeland from a dragon.

The Twelve Transformations of Bilbo Baggins- Magical Transformation AU; Finding what he deemed as a puzzle box in the trolls’ hoard, Bilbo is subjected to twelve magical transformations all of different duration and abilities. Getting the dwarves to Erebor might not be as easy as he thought.

[knight--error]

Another fic idea I'll never write, this one for OUAT:

In general, I think the post-Rumple Belle Quests would have been really fun if she hadn't been sent directly to jail, do not pass go, do not collect $200 after one (1) adventure. Specifically, I think it would have been so neat if she met Hook—but he didn't know who she is, and she didn't know who he's trying to kill.

You could throw them together in a variety of ways. Maybe she pulls gold from the royal coffers of her homeland and manages to buy passage on the Roger, maybe he raids the ship she's currently on, but then, surprise! A sea monster attacks both vessels, and she defeats it through cunningly-applied book smarts, as the Belle does.

In either case, they're both trying to deal with their emotionally-fraught pasts, which they talk about in suitably vague terms so neither realizes how their stories connect. Belle is just looking for an adventure, and pirates are very adventuresome (there's a lot of books about that) so, sure, she'll tag along, and maybe she can try to pull her new acquaintance Killian out of his revenge death spiral. (There's also a lot of books about those and they never go well.) (Also Belle is always willing to see the good in people, rather famously so, in fact.)

Killian has a long and storied history of teaming up with anyone who can possibly help him achieve his goals, and the man also went to Neverland with absolutely no plan on how to learn about his crocodile from there and essentially got the info he needed out of plot convenience chance, and Belle is actually good at research, so, sure, he's game to have her along. Worst comes to worst he ransoms her back to her dad for cash. Easy job.

From there, of course, they bond over Various Adventures. Belle&Hook friendship is such a cool idea and has so much potential, I love seeing it. Logistically it would be somewhat difficult to believably have them talking past each other this whole time (maybe Belle finds a different magical beastie that has a tie to a dagger and assumes he's going after that, willfully believing it instead of the alternative). In the end, however, there's no escaping the climactic mutual discovery.

You could go two ways from here. Either it becomes a full-out AU, as Hook's friendship with Belle and his unwillingness to hurt her or someone she loves begins his redemption arc way earlier; or he delves even more deeply into darkness and revenge, betraying his new friend (and possibly sending her to be locked up with Regina? That would be fun).

Personally, I like the second. It would make his later appearance in Storybrooke even more tense, and if he's still willing to go after Belle to hurt Rumple like in the show—then oof! I feel like any redemption arc is improved by giving the character more bad choices in their past. With Hook, I think it would be good to give him another tie to the light besides Emma and Neal. As it stands, it really just feels like he became good for a chance to date Emma, and that's... meh. The idea of Belle being willing to forgive him, even after everything he's done, and the force of that forgiveness and love essentially giving him permission to come back to the man he once was—that's really cool. Emma can still be a strong motivating factor, but I think both forces working in concert on him would be quite compelling.

So if anyone wants to write all that... uh, feel free? Free idea for you. No charge. Go nuts.

[deliciouskeys]

Preface: I’m a card carrying member of the Homelander Is So Cute UwU club, and a lot of the fic I consume is various ways to get a redemption wish fulfillment.

And even with this level of HL bs tolerance, I periodically come across a sentiment in this fandom that, frankly, gives me bad vibes: “HL is not written as a rapist in the TV show and Becca would have been the one outlier event, so it probably didn’t happen that way.”

Are we watching the same show? The creepy way he talks over Maeve at the race in S1E3, the way he strongarms his way into a fake relationship with Starlight in S3, the threat of harvesting Maeve’s eggs right after assuring he’d never do something as gross as force himself on her…. Are all pretty rapey.

It’s a particular flavor of rapey, and quite different from the one in the Garth Ennis comics, granted. At the risk of being reductive, I’ll reference the Groth rapist subtyping (proven problematic when used to categorize real people but good enough for this):

HL in the comics is presented a sadistic rapist: The type that gets off on their victim’s suffering, that likes to emphasize their victim’s helplessness, and the power differential between them. This goes for Starlight’s initiation, Becca’s rape, and even colors the Soldier Boy herogasm scene which is allegedly consensual but definitely not in the #metoo era.

HL in the show is presented as a power rapist: the type that actually plays down any power differential, and wants to delude themselves into thinking that the victim was willing all along or (perhaps even better!) came around because of the rapist’s sheer sexual prowess. The force used is often soft— words over physicality— and sometimes oblique (I.e. ‘the implication’ in It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia). The usual MO of the daterapist.

Homelander being nervous and subby with Madelyn doesn’t negate those scenes— she has a very particular role in his life to have that dynamic with him. The possibility of him being ‘groomed’ by her at an early age doesn’t negate that either. If anything, people who are sexually abused are more likely to become abusers themselves.

All that said, can you hc that he isn’t a rapist? Can you write fic set in a universe where these scenes didn’t happen? Of course.

Am I saying Kripke and team did an impeccable, nuanced job with this subject matter? No.

But I cringe every time I see the “HL could never rape anyone ever, he lasers people but he’s a sub and we all know subs can’t rape anyone, and that’s canon!” discourse on tumblr, and its close cousin on Reddit of “HL is so awesome, why would he need to rape anyone / who would ever refuse him.”

………… and now you can argue with me if you want lol, the floor is yours.

[super-hero-confessions]

Homelander is great example of how desensitized and normalized actual grooming, trauma, and victim blaming are in society from multiple facets.

Every scene of him with Madelyn is intentionally made creepy and gross in the show, but people ignore this and what is being portrayed in favor of sexualization, even with eerie music or sound designed to make the interactions off-putting and sinister.

With victim blaming, there are as many people willing to blame Homelander for his situation and upbringing as there are people willing to blame Becca for being made a victim because of Homelander. All while ignoring the true root of the problem, society. Or in this case, Vought. And ignoring that sometimes the abused can and do become abusers.

It's a little disheartening because even some with genuine sympathy for Homelander seem to relish in the idea of him suffering further, being de-powered and tortured, or put into the same abusive dynamic if not similar to the one he had with Madelyn Stillwell. But then try and call it healthy, healing, and redemption.

Speaking from experience. Repetition of the trauma that you've been through doesn't help you get out of the place the trauma created. It just reinforces the walls and gives you new trauma.

Tough love isn't real. It's just the excuse people make when they want to be cruel without taking accountability for their actions. You can teach someone to be strong without being an asshole or abusing them.

I actually want one of two endings for the show. Either it's something a bit akin to the comics in which Homelander (in place of comics Noir) likely kills Soldier Boy (in place of comics Homelander), and then is killed by Billy, who's then killed by Hughie (spoilers I guess for those who haven't read them). Likely with the Boys forced to pick up the pieces and continue trying to dismantle Vought.

Or I want to see Homelander lose his shit and completely destroy Vought with no chance of the company recovering, probably because of something Billy does or says. Then disappearing for a while. Maybe being found as a completely different person in the future. Not necessarily redemption, but freedom from his tormentors, including the internalized ones.

But I feel the ending might work best if either both Homelander and Billy Butcher die, in which there is reflection on the hands they'd been dealt in the aftermath of their deaths. Or that they both survive and manage to stop that proverbial hand from dragging further victims into the fold.

When it comes to fandom and fics, I always find it a little odd but as an idea I have yet to see used? I think Vought could be brought down with the evidence of Homelander's upbringing being released to the public. One vial of compound V was enough to stir up a little trouble but nothing they couldn't sweep under the rug.

But with so many skeletons in that proverbial closet, if anyone could convince Homelander that Vought was the true enemy and his abuser. The archives he has access to would bring down Vought faster than the Nazi shit brought Stormfront down. And I do not understand how I haven't seen fandom use this concept. Maybe I haven't searched far enough, fair enough.

But I do find it a little ironic that while knowing and complaining about Vought being the true villain, people still individualize the problem and prefer to go after Homelander in fics. Even the people who claim to love and adore him.

Anyway, just a couple thoughts I wanted to chime in on. I could definitely hope for the survival ending, but I expect the death all around ending and hope at least for the post mortem reflections and maybe revelations of Homelander's past. I do wish fandom could be a little better on some things though.

This might seem crazy. But there is a lot of grandiose self importance and holier than thou attitude that goes around in The Boys fandom. I get that show plays with morality a lot and has people polarized as much as nuanced but Jesus fucking Christ.

And no, Justice is not Vengeance.

[rosiethedragongeek]

(telling u here bc i didnt wanna hijack the fic post jdbddbbfskdvb)

the main reason I DON'T/WOULDN'T want a canon Spitelout redemption is because I'm not confident Dreamworks could do it well. Riders Of Berk and Race To The Edge do the job of making sure we understand that we are NOT meant to sympathise with Spitelout. Three's a pattern and off the top of my head there are atleast three "spitelout bad!" episodes ("Thawfest", "Snotlout Gets The Axe", "Notlout") and a couple where it is featured as a B plot ("Race to fireworm island"). The writing for Snotlout specifically is probably what I'd pin down as the best in the show, so i guess I never thought to narrow it down to bad writing. I knew that (apparently) it was never commited to one way or the other in the end, but Ive expressed numerous times that the constant back and forth is VERY interesting to me. I love that Snotlout keeps forgiving him. I love that Spitelout keeps getting worse. I love that even though Spitelout causes him pain, and its acknowledged that its wrong, Snotlout still admires him and pines for his attention. Its very special and relatable to me that it takes a lot for Snotlout to learn his lesson, that hes constantly optimistic, and that it always hurts him because he knows he should expect that by now. But he doesn't.

Dreamworks gave us a fair share of Spitelout episodes, seemingly testing the water of what they could get away with showing each time (High amount of pressure -> degrading him infront of his friends -> causing extreme delusion and paranoia). I think they knew that if we were going to get a conclusion, which we had to, it would have to be an important part of the episode - maybe even of the season. Maybe Spitelouts following them around for the episode, and Snotlout's doing perfectly fine, but Spitelout keeps criticising and jumping in to set an example. Maybe things go wrong and someone gets injured. Maybe its Hiccup, or Hookfang, or snotlout himself. and Snotlout has to stand there with a weapon - because I highly doubt Spitelout would take it seriously if there wasnt one involved - and say for the final time that he doesnt need him. That hes had enough of the criticism and the backhanded praise and the stupidly high standards. That he loves him like the father he has failed to be, and that thats what stings most. And Spitelout wouldve had to make a choice. And dreamworks did not have the anything neccessary to do that.

It would have had to been so carefully crafted. So many things would have had to be balanced. Snotlout shouldn't be too soft because then he wont listen - but he cant be too harsh because Spitelout is a survivor of the same mentality that he himself has. They cant put every single bit of blame on him - but to not do that would be irresponsible because they are his actions. They probably csnt use the word 'abuse' - but to use anything else would be downplaying it. It would have been so extremely difficult that I dont know if i wish they had even tried.

It just upsets me to know that they dont have a conversation. They never even have one. (english teacher voice) Maybe their relationship is less of a redemption arc, but more of a tragedy on the endless cycle of abuse perpetuated on war-ridden homelands like Berk.

DUDE

DUDE

This is such a thorough analysis I’m obsessed (and I am SO sorry it took me so long to get here omg)

They really do have a very cyclical, Snotlout gives and Spitelout takes type relationship. Most of their episodes include Snotlout looking up to Spitelout in the beginning, Spitelout being pretty awful to Snotlout in one way or another, and then a sorta positive interaction at the end that doesn’t necessarily address their conflict or what Spitelout did within the episode. It is then assumed that Snotlout and Spitelout have made up and are good again. Only for it all to happen over again.

It really upsets me too that they never have a real conversation where they actually talk about what’s going on, and that there is no indication that anything will ever change between them (aside from Snotlout’s character growth and his new complete understanding of his self worth and the fact that he can live his life outside of the box Spitelout’s created for him.

Thank you so much for this dude this is insane

[ishomieokay]

Biggest issues of the Homelander redemption fics I've read is that the whole point of his character is that he's irreparably broken. He cannot earn redemption in a traditional way because due to his upbringing his sense of empathy and his moral compass are fucked up beyond belief. He's a psychopath. No amount of love, nurture or self-reflection is going to undo that.

Empathy is not something that you can learn or instill in someone. The issue when using this trope is that Homelander can't actually be regretful. That means no repentance = no redemption, basically. At least, following Christian logic.

You can play around with the idea, though. And I'm not gonna lie, it's lots of fun if you know how to do it right. All you need to do is look at his motivations. If doing good things will benefit him in some way, he will do it. Maybe he's trying to impress his S.O/show them that he can change or he's trying to earn back the love of the public. You can even make him do good deeds by accident.

Hell, it can be a fucking comedy. The idea of Homelander actually trying to be Heroic and failing everytime because he can't keep his emotions in check or properly control his powers is hilarious to me, tbh. Specially because he would be such a baby about it. "Why can't things ever go my way?!" He says, covered in blood and standing among a bunch of dead bodies.

The same premise can be used for an incredibly whumpy, you-can't-escape-your fate kind of story.

My point is, you can absolutely try and write that Homelander Redemption fic your heart desires. You just gotta be smart about. And take into account, it's most likely going to end in tragedy, one way or another.

[tearueful]

Actually yk what having the balls to talk about how you like homelander is something I could never do, godspeed soldier

We love a good redemption arch. That was fast. Also yes, I am cringe but I am free. I guess you glanced at my tumblr and realized this bitch has no shame. My obsession level is at writing Homelander x reader fics. I am LIVING IT UP.

[zepskies]

@luci-in-trenchcoats You absolutely MADE my night, hun!! 💕💕🥰 It is a beast of a fic, and I'm so grateful that you read through it all and gave me such a lovely review.

Diving into your comments:

Lol so I created an OC version of this story on Ao3, and it clocks BMD as just shy of 100K words. 😂 But something I worked very hard on was the pacing of this story. I didn't want the "enemies to lovers" aspect to be rushed, as it really can't be if done right. So I'm very glad you thought it gave "everything time to breathe."

This very much feels like it properly exists in the world of The Boys while being it's own thing. I love the inclusion of Supe Affairs as a plot device. It brings things together from canon but gives us something new to explore too.

I just love this show, its characters, the grittiness of the world. I tried my best for this to feel like an extension of season 3 while still being a "what if" story: as in "what if" Soldier Boy was able to defeat Homelander and escaped custody. How the hell would the Boys deal with that? And insert a sassy reader character to Liam Neeson her way through it. 😂

I love the missions the reader and the team goes on. There's clearly been a lot of thought put into not just the obvious Ben/Soldier Boy & reader relationship but how you get there, how you keep Ben as Ben and keep the reader as the strong capable person she is and have them as clear enemies at the start.

Thank you for shouting this out because that aspect was very important to me as well. I thought Jensen did a great job with SB. I wanted to stay as true as possible to his characterization while giving room for a long-winded redemption arc lol.

And with the reader, I try to create reader characters that feel like OCs. I love that you said she's an absolute badass but you still feel her humanity -- because that's exactly what I was going for. She's got a traumatic past, but it gives her the unique perspective of identifying with Ben while helping him grow.

I love the different locations throughout the series! It feels like a global adventure you go on and each place brings with it a different vibe (although the first safe house is always gonna be my favorite for obvious reasons).

Oh fair enough, hun. 😘 The first house in Medellin is my favorite as well. Even though it's the stage of her kidnapping, it does become quite idyllic in a way lol. But you're right, that does become a kind of motif throughout the whole story -- the various "homes" they share with one another before finally choosing how they're going to spend their life together.

And the original side characters! They're fleshed out and add great value to Ben and the reader's development as the story goes (ngl was so happy with how these guys got some proper conclusions to their own stories).

Omg thank you!! A piece of writing advice I've gotten and held onto ever since: treat minor characters like the protagonists of their own stories. (And I couldn't not give them the ending they deserved. 🥰)

As for Ben and the reader? Fucking kudos for the writing of the two of them. This is the Soldier Boy from the show if we had more time with him. This is him with fears and growth and the mouth of a sailor. And you fucking adore the "bad guy" because maybe the bad guy ain't so bad after all. He's a dick but the way he changes for the reader, in obvious and not so obvious ways, makes you root for someone who does some pretty bad shit.

So I love every bit of how you phrased this. As I said, I tried my very best to get Ben's characterization right. He's the quintessential John Wayne/John Winchester archetype, so it was familiar to me in that sense, with the strengths/weaknesses of emotionally deficient men. (Not unlike Butcher.)

I'm a sucker for it, unfortunately, but it was fun trying to figure out how push him to his emotional limits and give him a partner who gets under his skin in the best and worst of ways, and who has a heart big enough to work with him lol.

I remember someone commented on a chapter that they "didn't know who to root for," Ben and his team or the Boys, and that was honestly one of the best compliments ever because the situation is messy. And making Ben sympathetic is hard to do lol.

The reader is a force to be reckoned with. She's a straight up badass. I loved the balance of her strength and her humanity, of the calculations of trying to escape and the slow realization Ben isn't what she first thought. As she tells everyone, they just don't know him yet.

I grew to love her as a character as much as Ben, tbh. She's a combo of tough as nails and deeply flawed and emotional and giving. And once you have her loyalty, you have it for life. Actually, funny enough, I loosely based her personality and background as a sort of female Dean Winchester. 😂

The non-relationship relationship between these two, the refusal to put a label on it even if it's clear what it means to them both, is a joy to watch unfold. Hatred turning into carnal need, loose friendship, protection, life-saving, a need for each other...the way Ben refuses to say, even think, how we know he feels about the reader. The growth of this man is something I will not get over.

They both go through a denial of the highest form lmao. And yet they can't help but gravitate toward each other like magnets. I wanted to create undeniable chemistry, and I so appreciate how you phrased this as well: "Hatred turning into carnal need, loose friendship, protection, life-saving, a need for each other...the way Ben refuses to say, even think, how we know he feels about the reader."

Half the reason this story is so long is because I felt his growth arc literally needed this much story. Anything less felt rushed to me.

There's just so much to this story I can't possibly get it all down. I didn't even mention the stellar smut scenes which are a plenty! There's action, angst, slow moments and fast ones, betrayal and enough cliffhangers to make you grateful you're not waiting for new parts to drop. Even the fluff suits the story beats and feels natural, not like it needs to be shoved in.

Oh I know I frustrated and angered many of the readers who were following along when I was posting chapter by chapter loll. They were only a week a part, but I love a good cliffhanger. 😂😂 I will admit, smut writing is my greatest challenge, but I'm happy you enjoyed them! loll Along with all the other magical moments in the rollercoaster that is this long-winded story. 😂 (And I love me a good bit of fluff. 💓)

This is the best Soldier Boy x reader story I've read out there and I only wish I'd found it sooner! If you're looking for something to sink your teeth into and get lost in, read this story!

You're so very sweet. Thank you so SO much!! I hope you enjoy the other BMD stories whenever you get to them. They're on this masterlist of course, but there are also a few BMD-verse stories labelled under my Soldier Boy Masterlist under "Imagines." Those were requests that I fit into the world. 💕💕

And truth be told, I'm not done with these two just yet. They have more story in them, and as long as I feel there's more to explore (and as long as people still want to read about them), then BMD will never truly be done. 🥰

Series Masterlist - Break Me Down

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

AN: For those of you who enjoyed “Checkerboard,” here’s the requested prequel series! It’s gonna be a long road to get to that version of Soldier Boy. Technically this is an AU set post-season 3.

Series Tags/Warnings: **Rated M. (18+ only.) Enemies to frenemies to lovers. Angsty, messy, moral quandaries galore. This is a romance, but it’s a dark world with morally gray and dark characters, including Soldier Boy, of course. **Smut, language, misogyny, violence, and other chapter-specific tags.

Chapters:

Prologue

Part 1 - The Game Begins

Part 2 - You Move Me, Baby

Part 3 - Somewhere Down Below

Part 4 - On the Inside Out

Part 5 - Morning, Night & Day

Part 6 - A Hot Meal

Part 7 - Until Midnight

Part 8 - Something in the Way

Part 9 - Breach

Part 10 - Caught in the Balance

Part 11 - The Lion's Den

Part 12 - All Your Wicked Ways

Part 13 - A Generous Deal

Part 14 - Safe House

Part 15 - The Tower

Part 16 - Soldier Boy

Part 17 - More Than Words Can Say

Epilogue - All My Living Time

Series Complete!

Read More In the BMD-Verse:

Not done reading this version of Soldier Boy x Reader? Well, there's more to their story.

(**Denotes 18+ only)

Love Actually** Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 - Complete

Checkerboard** You’re not a supe. You’re breakable. Soldier Boy sometimes forgets that.

Strong As Blood** - (Soldier Boy x Reader) After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? 

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

Part 1 || Part 2 - Complete

Moodboard below created by @chernayawidow:

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[alwayscraftynight]

Salutations it is I, Jacob Hopkins redemption fic writer person.

Even though I don’t follow you I still regularly look at your tumblr for Jacob Cringefailloserman Hopkins content (your art’s very good by the way). To respond to the post you made about me, I’m not at all disappointed with your response and it’s been really helpful with characterizing a character with a total of 5 minutes of screen time in the show, and whose only purpose is to make plot happen and to make fun of conspiracy theorists.

The reason that I don’t follow you, remain anonymous, and didn’t initially respond to your response is as you have guessed because I am uncomfortable with the proshipping. It’s something that I’ve been thinking about for a while and I’ve come to the conclusion that as long as it’s kept to a fictional space and it’s not taken to an extreme it’s something I can tolerate and I’m fine interacting with people who do partake in it. I promise to not harass, insult, or be nasty in general to you or anyone else in the pro ship community, and will go by the golden rule of don’t like don’t interact. Still gonna keep things anonymous though.

With that being said, progress on the fic has been slow. It’s my first time writing outside of a school setting and I’m not that good at it to boot. Putting my thoughts and ideas into words is like pulling teeth, and I have gained a tremendous respect for people who write regularly either professionally or as a hobby. 

I’ve rewritten the first scene five times now (though the one I’ve most recently came up with I’m pretty sure I’m going to stick with), and I’ve only got a good four or so chapters planned out definitively. But mark my words I’m getting this written. 

This man has been in my brain since November 2021 when I thought it would be funny if he was in dead cells because both Jacob and Dead Cells person use traps. Eventually in December 2022 I decided to start writing a fic about Jacob getting a redemption where he’d go on the infinity train but that was scrapped pretty quickly. Then it was about his experience in prison, but I don’t have the write something as nuanced as that and I’d need to study the hell out of prisons. Then finally after the owl house finished and the human realm was never made aware of the demon realm’s existence, the fic that I’m writing now started to take shape.

What I write will have its problems because of my inexperience. There will be plot points that are confusing, dialogue that sounds artificial, descriptions that are bland, and a number of other problems that I don’t even know I’ll face. But I promise you this, I’m going to put my fucking soul into this thing. 

People who forgot about Jacob entirely, who are neutral about him, or hold animosity towards him will read my fic and they will feel a fraction of the emotions that I feel about this middle aged cartoon man. And it will be glorious. And we will no longer be so alone.

I can’t promise that the fic will be released anytime soon as I want to get at least an outline of the whole plot completed as well as a sizeable number of chapters before I do so, but I’m going to promise to work on it every day (as long as daydreaming is included in the definition of working).

Good luck on making your AU, other drawings, and whatever else it is you’ll pursue. I’ll make sure to link you to the fic whenever I get the first chapter out. 

Cheers

PS 

To repay the seratonin you have given me by making content about Jacob that doesn’t make me reenact the homelander in hallway scene, here are a list of songs I’ve put in a Spotify playlist that reflect either themes of the fic, the general vibes of it, or both. 

Love I need / My Ordinary Life : The living tombstone

The main character / Against the kitchen floor / …well better than the alternative : Will Wood

Coffee : Jack Stauber

Le festin : Camille, Michael Giacchino

Under pressure : Queen, David Bowie

World’s smallest violin : AJR

The mind electric : Miracle Musical

Once in a lifetime : Talking Heads

Gats : Susumu Hirasawa

Space song : Beach House

Undertale : Toby Fox

I'm a bit tired and I keep putting off my needed break so this probably won't be as long and comprehensible as it could be I apologize 😭

Hello anon, it's cool seeing you again! I wanted to clarify I didn't mean to come across as rude if I did in my post, it's completely understandable to stay anonymous if that's what you feel more comfortable doing, and thank you for being civil about my weird opinions lol.

It's so easy to get stuck on the beginning of stuff, I'm also in the rewriting stage if that makes you feel any better. I'm not experienced in writing specifically but I can share some advice I've heard if that helps. Writing and making stories in general requires a lot of brainstorming, so don't feel like your writing is inadequate for going through a lot of rough drafts. I like to save my drafts to add to other projects later (most of which take place entirely inside my brain but I digress)

Just remember that this stuff is supposed to take time and to just be patient with yourself y'know? I hope you're happy with what you decide to stick with and you can achieve what you want to achieve with your fic 👍

Also LOVE the music I definitely get the feel you're going for! I know quite a few of the songs already but I'll be sure to check out the ones I haven't heard :]

Cheers! And good luck!

[umbracirrus]

Self recs? I'll try!!

The rules are to recommend some of my own fics that I've enjoyed writing, and to tag some people back to recommend their own... but I admittedly don't know who to tag back!! I'm an awkward little bean so I'll leave it as an open tag. Yeah, you - take the opportunity to be proud of what you've done if you're a writer!!!

Tagged by @pitiable-arisen and @thequeenofthewinter!

So... In terms of things which I have posted, I have a few things...

Number 1, quite obviously, has to be my beloved fic The Perfect Storm! A long fic based around my dear dragonborn Elyse and my favourite Jarl Balgruuf, and their developing relationship in the face of many hardships of both the personal and political kind...

Number 2 sticks with Elyse, and that is Seeking the Sun! This is Elyse's journey as the dragonborn, from the moment that she leaves her family home in Chorrol following the death of her mother and disappearance of her father, and travels north to her mother's homeland... just to get caught at an ambush at the border. Only the first two chapters are posted so far, but the next chapter is slowly progressing....

Number 3 is With light comes shadow, my Oblivion fic! Based around my two Heroes of Kvatch, Florian and Drissa, as they fulfil the Emperor's final wishes, and send themselves down paths of light and shadow, redemption and ruin... And of course, it has Martin. Who doesn't love Martin :)

Number 4 is Purity! A oneshot based upon my dragonborn harbinger of the Companions, Thea, as she guides Vilkas through Ysgramor's Tomb to cleanse him of the beast blood, and Hircine is not happy. I'm actually wanting to write some more for these two...

Number 5 is a bit harder to think of, because the first four is what I have posted on AO3 because I'm happy with them and think they're at a point in which I could post them! So... looking through what I've posted on here... It's gotta be a little thing I wrote with a kiss between Balgruuf and Elyse, and all because they shared a dessert with one of her favourite sweet treats, strawberries! I'm debating trying to work this into The Perfect Storm somewhere.