First, the bakery photo. Someone had snapped it through the front window—Homelander leaning against the counter like he owned the place, Ryan grinning ear to ear as Y/N bent down to hand him a cupcake.
Her bakery, her counter... but every headline forgot that part.
"Homelander, Ryan, and America's Sweetheart Baker—Perfect Family Outing."
"Step aside, Noir? Fans think Y/N and Homelander are the real power couple."
Y/N shut her phone off, but it didn't matter. She saw it on the TV at the gym, heard it whispered by customers at her bakery.
She told herself it didn't matter. That it would pass.
But then there was the bank. Ryan had begged to come along, bouncing on his heels beside her while she tried to show him how to fill out a deposit slip. He was sweet—so eager to please—but she couldn't ignore the weight of Homelander watching from the side, arms folded, smiling like a proud husband.
When she saw the shaky cellphone video online later that night, her stomach sank.
"America's strongest hero... and America's sweetest baker. Raising Ryan right."
"Y/N already looks like the perfect mom."
She threw her phone on the couch and rubbed her temples. I'm not his mom. I'm not.
And then came the bake sale.
Ryan's eyes had gone wide when he saw the tray: raspberry cupcakes topped with sugar crystals, the little chalkboard propped in front reading Raspberry Ryan.
"It's me?" he asked, almost breathless.
"Yes, you," she teased, brushing frosting on his nose. She meant it as a kindness. But when the photo went viral—Ryan holding up the cupcake with Homelander standing proudly behind them—it only fueled the fire.
"Family goals."
"Sorry Noir, but the people have spoken."
She hated herself for the small warmth that tugged her chest. It wasn't Ryan's fault. He was a good kid, too good for the life he'd been born into. She wanted to be kind to him. But every hug, every laugh they shared only gave Homelander another excuse to tighten his claim.
And Noir... Noir wasn't there anymore. Not the way he used to be. He came home later and later, silent even for him.
⸻
The Gala
The ballroom gleamed with chandeliers and champagne. Y/N clung to Noir's arm, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Cameras snapped every second, but what unsettled her wasn't the noise—it was Homelander. He was everywhere she turned. Too close. Always smiling.
Why is he always behind me? Always waiting?
She adjusted her grip on Noir's sleeve, but the thought nagged: You don't feel like him tonight. Why don't you feel like him?
The crowd surged when a reporter shouted a question. She stumbled, pushed from behind. Her shoulder slammed the window with a crack that echoed through the hall.
Gasps. People shouted. She tried to steady herself—Noir's hand reached for her—but another shove hit the crowd, champagne spilling under her heel. The spiderweb cracks bloomed wider, glass groaning.
Her heart stopped.
"No—" she gasped, too late. The pane shattered.
Air rushed past her ears, glittering shards spinning like knives in the night. The city screamed beneath her as she fell.
Then—steel arms locked around her. The fall stopped, her lungs heaving.
Homelander.
"I've got you," he murmured, smile flawless for the cameras above. "You're safe with me. I'll never let you fall."
And he carried her back up, slowly, deliberately, as if presenting her to the world.
The ballroom erupted as they landed. Reporters screamed, flashes blinded her. And then—
"Mom!"
Ryan's voice broke as he stumbled forward, face wet with tears. He crashed into her waist, arms squeezing so tight she nearly dropped to her knees. "Mom, I thought you were gonna—"
The crowd exploded. Cheers, applause, chants. Cameras whipped around to capture every angle: Ryan calling her Mom, Homelander holding her hand, her dress glittering with shards of glass like starlight.
Y/N's throat closed. No. No, I'm not his mother. I can't—
She tried to step back, to speak, but Noir appeared. Relief nearly made her sob—until she saw what he did.
He walked calmly into the light, silent, unreadable. And then he placed a gloved hand on Homelander's shoulder, the other on hers, and pressed their hands together.
The room lost its mind. Applause shook the chandeliers, chants of "Homelander! Y/N!" roared against her ears.
Her stomach dropped. Why would you do that? Why would Noir do that?
Homelander's fingers laced with hers, his smile softer now, triumphant. Ryan clung to her waist, looking up at her like she'd always been his mother.
Homelander gave a subtle nod to ‘Noir’ as he stood off to the side.
She tried again to pull away. Tried to speak.
But Homelander's arm wrapped around her waist before she could move, squeezing her side so hard it almost hurt. His smile didn't falter for the cameras, but his whisper was a blade against her ear.
"Don't make a scene, sweetheart. Everyone's watching."
Her lips parted, protest trembling on the tip of her tongue, but the roar of the crowd swallowed her voice. Flashes burst like fireworks, Ryan's happy voice carried above the noise:
"Yeah, Mom. We can be a family now."
And Y/N stood frozen in Homelander's grip, her heart screaming against the smile she forced for the cameras, trapped in the picture-perfect family she never agreed to.
Summary: You not paying attention to him really bugged him.
Warning: this story contains Dark Themes one who cannot handle.
Notes: unedited.
You weren’t a fan, you hate them. After they arrived to save you and your parents it was already to late, they thought you were dead. You laid there pretending. Scared out of your mind as your coated in their blood.
“Dumb fucks,” Homelander scoffs
“We should have arrived earlier,” Maeve stated as she looked down at the gruesome scene.
“Think of it this way, we could go back to what we were doing huh” He smiles as he grabs her.
“Now cmon, let the police deal with this shit, wasting our fucking time,” He grumbles.
You never knew their true colors till that day. You were found by cops who rolled you out on a gurney.
You were frozen, there was nothing you could do to save them. It just happened—poof and they’re gone. Exploded into a million of pieces, literally.
You had a little brother to look after. He’s your pride and joy. The only one you have left. You needed to be strong, for him.
“Sissy! look Homelander!!” He points up to the sky. You look at his direction and there he was. Sitting on the edge of a building. You catch his gaze and quickly you freeze. Just like that night.
“Yeah, cmon we gotta get you to school,” you ignore him, you ignore every superhero. It hard when your brother is obsessed with them. Your heart tightens as you think about it. How could you tell something like that to a child.
You’re not gonna ruin him, he must stay pure. Maybe when he’s old enough—old enough to know what went down that night.
As you dropped your brother off, you sped up to work. An office job that’s enough to maintain you and your little brother.
“I’m going to need you to organize the plans for the new company party,” Alexa, your supervisor barges in.
“New company?” You ask unaware of what the plans are. Not until she drops papers on your desk. You pick them up and the big words on the front page; Vought. “What’s going on Alexa?” you asked.
“Vought bought the company, but don’t worry, everything will stay the same, we’re getting new recruits,” She explained. You nod gesturing that you understood.
You looked through the plans, this is un-fucking-believable. They’re just handing it over, to a company that doesn’t care less about anyone. It was corrupt and not okay. You had to do something. This was the point where you wish you had powers. To help people who understand the wrath of corruption.
There was a party to show our appreciation to them. Superheroes would be there. You immediately requested for that night off.
“No can do, this is big and we need all hands on deck,” she stated. You sigh you knew you couldn’t do this alone. So you suggest,
“Can I bring my little brother, he’s been dying to meet The Seven, and I don’t think I would be able to get a babysitter,”
“yeah but don’t tell the others I don’t want them bitching to me right now.” She waves you off.
At least your little brother would be there. He helps you in so many ways and he doesn’t even know it. Without him you don’t think you would be here.
“This is awesome” He exclaims. You’ve never seen him this happy and excited before. This really is worth it.
You dressed him in a tux with his shirt being bright pink. You two are matching. Your dress was perfect with silver and pink lining. The it was tight but leading to your legs it fluffed a bit up.
You’ve never been this confident. You really felt good for once.
“Homelander!” Your brother’s yelling snapped you out of your thoughts. Your brother makes a move and pulls you along. You then again freeze and let him before you could fully think straight.
“Well hello, what’s your name,” He greeted with his pearly white teeth. You felt sick, just looking at him knowing he’s putting on a mask. How could someone be like this.
“Nathan, I always wanted to meet you, sir you’re my idol,” You never heard a full sentence come out of him. You were taken aback.
“Okay cmon let’s go,” You pulled him away from Homelander, you don’t trust him, who knows what he could do. You didn’t make eye contact, you didn’t want to.
He noticed—noticed that you paid him no attention. He didn’t think anything more about it.
“Sissy you think our parents could have been saved?,” you almost broke you neck of how quickly you looked at him. You two were on top of the building, looking down at the city view.
“Why do you say that,” you ask, you were scared he knew more than what you told him, how could he possibly know.
“These boys at my school make fun of me because they died, I wish I could have super powers, they’d probably be here,” he looked down
Your heart broke, you never once considered he was thinking these awful thoughts. He’s just a boy. “oh baby,” you hug him. “I promise you, I won’t ever leave. I’ll always be here-“
You were cut off my the sound of a door opening. There he was the man in the striped cape. You push Nathan closer to you. There wasn’t anyone around. Who knows what could happen. Anyone would believe the superhero.
“Homelanderr!” Your brother Nathan exclaims, before you could hold on to him he runs to him. Hugging the superhero,
“Hello little one, how are you,” He looks down at Nathan. Your hands were together playing with one hand, out of nervousness.
“Good, sissy showing me the city from here!” and with that his feelings of sadness was gone. You couldn’t bring to tell him anything about your parents. He just a kid.
“Well you know I can show you how it looks from the actual sky,” He’s suggesting and you quickly snap out of your thoughts.
“No!” You grab Nathan scared he’ll just take him from you. You quickly catch yourself, “I mean no we don’t want to bother you,” He could hear your heart thumping. You were nervous.
“But sissy-“
“I said no Nathan,” Your voice sounded shaking even though you intended it to be more stern.
“well I have no problem-“
“no I think it would be best if we went home,” You smile at him. It was clearly fake but Homelander felt something.
He didn’t know what it was. Interest? “Right, maybe another time kiddo,” He smiled at him and then looks back at you, making you break eye contact and move your attention to Nathan.
“Will there be another time?,” He asks Homelander. You look at your little brother wishing he would just stop talking.
“We’ll see,” he answers. You could feel his gaze, you wanted to get out of this situation. It didn’t feel good.
Harper was a global superstar, known for her powerful voice and energetic performances. Vought decided it was time to get Homelander some more support from young females and thought she'd be perfect to help with that. What better way to get him support than to have one of the leading ladies in the music industry dedicate her next single to him? Homelander decides that a working partnership isn't in his interest, he wanted something a bit more personal… whether Harper wanted him or not.
I've no idea where this is going... if it will go anywhere. I was just inspired by a song and my OFC from my previous one-shot, I'd Kill To Be Closer. I have inspiration for the performance that Harper will do, but other than that, nothing! xD This chapter to set the scene was like pulling teeth. It probably reads that way too.
Let me know what you think! The fic will probably be more like a collection of one-shots/drabbles rather than a storyline type fic. I don't have a timeline planned or anything like that.
Despite every bone in her body vibrating, Harper maintained a blank expression as she entered the elevator with Mike, her manager. If someone had told her that one day she would be in Vought Tower to have a meeting with The Seven, she’d have laughed in their face. Being around Supes wasn’t on her to-do list. She liked her own company or to be on stage with everyone screaming her name. Now she not only had to face a bunch of suits, but also present herself to The Seven whilst not bruising their fragile egos. They weren’t the only ones that had worldwide fame, after all.
“Remember what I said: this is just a formality. Ms Stillwell wanted to present you to The Homelander herself.”
“Yes, yes… let’s get this over with. I promised my fanbase a Twitch singing stream tonight.” Mike rolled his eyes as the songbird turned away from him and checked her reflection in the mirrored wall of the elevator. Harper had decided to keep it simple: Converse wedges, a check print pinafore dress with a black cropped top underneath, and gold jewellery. Her hair was in a tidy bun and her makeup was kept natural with a small kitten flick and glitter scattered over her lids. She had been advised to keep things toned down for a change. She was a star, if she didn’t dress to standout then what was the point?
“Miss Harper? It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Ah, Miss Stillwell. The computer camera did not do you any justice.” Mike, ever the suck-up, shook hands with the blonde. Harper grimaced internally; the nervous sweat that was gathering around his hairline was pathetic.
“Good afternoon. Thank you for inviting us.” Harper discreetly scanned the older woman up and down. She wore a simple black dress with red-bottomed Louboutin pumps. Harper could appreciate a woman that had money and wasn’t afraid to show it.
“Follow me.” Madelyn started walking quickly, she needed this meeting to go well and she needed her Supes to behave themselves. This deal would be huge for Vought. “So, as you know, today is about the finer details. We want you to be happy with the deal and for us to be in agreement.”
“Of course, Ms Stillwell. I can assure you that Harper is very excited for this opportunity.” Mike spoke for his client as usual. He knew that Harper was less than happy to be getting into bed with Vought, but she was no fool. Whilst this would be fantastic exposure for Homelander, it would be equally as beneficial for the young singer.
Madelyn kept her vibrant smile as they entered the meeting room. Noir, Translucent and Maeve sat to the left whilst A-Train and The Deep sat to the right. Homelander was sat at the centre of the table, his back straight and hair perfectly brushed with a polite smile on his face. “And this is The Seven.”
“Please, take a seat.” Homelander waved a hand in front of him to the spare seats. Mike sat beside Stillwell whilst Harper took the centre seat. She had the perfect view of the city’s skyline – which she was thankful for, it gave her something to look at whilst she zoned out from boredom. “It is a pleasure to meet one of the world’s biggest stars.”
“You flatter me.” Harper gave an award-winning grin and nodded her head in thanks. “The pleasure is all mine to be in such great company.”
Madelyn took note of the girl’s demeanour; the way she held a lot of tension in her shoulders and scanned the room with her eyes as though assessing the surroundings. Interesting, she made a mental note to keep an eye on her. Most people were always timid and intimidated when in the presence of such strength, but the evident displeasure was something new. Even those that hated Vought and the Supes hid it better. This almost seemed personal.
“Now, as I’m sure you’re aware, Vought likes to hold a celebration each year for Homelander’s birthday. It’s always a spectacle on television with record-breaking numbers tuning in. The numbers show that each year the programme reaches more and more fans across the globe.
“We would like Harper to take centre stage after the ‘Happy Birthday’ singalong to close the show. We couldn’t think of a more perfect way to introduce the partnership.”
“Partnership… from what I understand, Vought just wanted me to promote my song as though it is a dedication to the leader of your little group. What is this partnership that you speak of?” Harper raised a brow as she watched Madelyn and Mike exchange glances.
“Well, we would like to make it a little more personal than just a song. We need something that will speak to your fans more than 4 minutes of your voice will. Our offer is six months of travelling with Homelander. He’ll appear at your shows, you’ll appear at his events, and you’ll support each other publicly.
“Once the six months is up, we’ll explain that you parted ways amicably. The pressure, the travelling, everything was too much for you to keep up with when your career is blossoming so beautifully. No harm, no foul, no bad blood. Just good publicity.”
“Harper, think about.” Mike leant forward in his chair, making direct eye contact with the girl beside him. “Homelander gets the support of your people, you get the once in a lifetime contract with Vought, and at the end you both win! You get to perform, meet your fans and have the safety of Homelander being close by. There’s no losers here.” Homelander watched the singer in front of him. He could hear her heart rate increase and watched as her nails turned white from where she was clenching onto the sides of her chair. He stifled a chuckle as her body language showed her evident discomfort. Who did this little girl think she is? Anyone would be lucky to have his support and presence at their side.
“Let’s cut the bullshit. You want me to believe that I just get to perform and dress up when required for his events? It’s not that simple.”
“Obviously we’d have to be strict as far as your wardrobe and lyrics whilst under the contract. We have the support of many religious groups and we couldn’t afford to… offend them.”
“Are you saying there’s an issue with how I dress and the story that my lyrics tell?” Harper bit back sharply as Madelyn let out an awkward sigh. The singer noticed how the older woman’s eyes glanced at Homelander, almost like she was checking that he wasn’t displeased with the current situation.
“Okay. I think we need to take a break.” Mike interrupted as he noted how Harper had begun to sit up in her chair. What she lacked for in height, she made up for in fiery personality. She hadn’t met anyone that she was afraid to talk back to… yet. “How about I talk with Ms Stillwell in private to iron out the fine print whilst you introduce yourself a little more to The Seven?”
“That’s a great idea. I promise we’ll be on our best behaviour.” Homelander faked a laugh as he stood up with his hands behind his back. Madelyn took this for the hint that it was and encouraged the balding man to follow her to her office. She sent a warning look over her shoulder to the leader of The Seven. Fuck, balancing all these egos would be the death of her.
“So… you made a song for Homelander? What about the rest of us?” The Deep broke the awkward silence with a question that made Harper want to throttle him. She’d felt his slimey eyes on her the moment she entered the room. At least Translucent was somewhat subtle with his ogling.
“Correction: I wrote a song. Vought decided Homelander needed a bit of help in the polls with the female audience and claimed my song for themselves.”
“You sold your song to Vought?”
“Money is money. It’s the way the world works and I’d have been silly to decline such an investment.”
“Money is money, what a 21st century way of thinking. I’m sure it helps with all the girl power movements when you ladies can bring in a big cheque. I do have a question though…” Harper kept her eyes to the city skyline as Homelander stood behind her chair. She kept still as his gloved hands rested on her shoulders, a firm squeeze ensuring he had her full attention. A silent threat, as far as she was concerned. “We need this to go smoothly. It won’t benefit either of us to waste our time with this opportunity.” Another sensation of light, but firm pressure to her shoulders. A warning. “Do you have a boyfriend? A partner that might creep up out of the woodwork and make this partnership a media scandal?”
Harper took a second to swallow a sarcastic retort. This was The Homelander after all. She couldn’t treat him like all of the other idiotic men in her life. The industry was full of them after all. Men that controlled her contract, men that controlled her music videos, men that looked at her like she was a nothing more than a pretty figure to admire, men that wanted to whore out her talents to whoever would promote the music she made.
“No ex-lover or husband for you to worry about. Who has the time when they’re touring the world and breaking records?”
“Ha. A woman with an ego… interesting.” Homelander gave another squeeze before continuing on his walk around the table. “Obviously, there are some evident differences. You’re a singer… and I am THE Homelander. I protect citizens, including yourself, and fly the American flag. I do hope it won’t be an issue that my priority will always be my country.”
To Vought, you mean. Harper gave a thin smile and made a sound of agreement. “It is a working relationship, sir. I do not need to take any more of your time than absolutely necessary.” Maeve hid her smile behind her hand. She liked her. Her first thought was some loud, little girl would come strutting in and start fawning over Homelander as they usually did, but no. Harper surprised her. The girl didn’t seem to be at all in awe of the blonde Supe… she seemed almost bored, in fact.
“Right! Harper, here we go! An agreement that will be more than satisfactory, I think.” Mike entered with a big grin. He smelt money on the horizon!
“A contract for six months… public partnership with The Homelander…. music videos and exclusive performances on Vought+… Vought offers Homelander’s personal protection during live events… all expenses covered by Vought during this time… Wait. Vought will manage me during this time? Looking for a new client, Mike??”
“O-of course not, but it makes sense for Vought to have more input during this time, wouldn’t you say?” Harper gave him a long look. She noticed how he fiddled with his hands and exhaled loudly as she stared. What a pathetic creature.
“I suppose I cannot decline at this point.” As much as she hated to admit it, this would be a great launching pad for her. Vought would stream her music on their channels, the money on offer would be a beautiful investment, and she was curious about this powerhouse company that seemed to have its finger in so many pies… Vought had a lot of control in America, she wondered just how far it stretched. “Very well.” She ignored the obvious amusement coming from the Supe across the table and unclicked the pen.
Time to make a deal with the Devil.
---
“For fuck’s sake!” Harper stormed into her apartment, slamming the door so hard that her windows shook and a few picture frames dropped to the ground.
She tore out her jewellery, uncaring as the gold pieces clattered against the vanity mirror. She grit her teeth as she dragged the brush through her hair, unflinching as it pulled on a few knots and tangles in her curls. Her usual skincare routine was ignored and she used a soaked cotton pad to remove her makeup quickly. Once her skin was suitably clean she paused and stared at her reflection. She wasn’t a puppet, but she had to act like one and it drove her crazy. The idea that these humans thought they had control over her was infuriating. If she could she’d show them all just who they were dealing with… but she enjoyed the privacy that being a human afforded her. If she showed her true self, then there’d be no going back. She wasn’t ready for that yet.
Her eyes glowed green as she let loose the hunger that had threatened to take control during the meeting. Sharp teeth dropped from her gums and she snarled as a hiss released from her throat. God, she wanted to eat someone so badly. She wanted to rip apart some pathetic little mouth breather as they pled for mercy… but she couldn’t. She didn’t trust that certain people wouldn’t be watching her from now on. She’d just have to settle for some subtle skin contact when she went to the Tower tomorrow. It wasn’t the same as consuming someone, but she could feed off of their energy all the same.
“Ugh, what the fuck have I been brought in to?” She carried on muttering to herself as she ripped off her clothes, leaving them in an untidy pile and slipped into a bralette and shorts. “Such a fucking circus, led by a witch in heels that thinks she has control. What a joke!” Her bad mood followed her like a storm cloud as she headed to the kitchen to grab the bottle of vodka that she stored in the fridge. She tended to enjoy a cocktail or two, but right now she needed something stronger. The lid hit the floor with a clatter as she brought the bottle to her lips and gulped the straight liquor. It would take more than one bottle to make her tipsy, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t get satisfaction from the burning sensation it left in her throat. She took a deep breath as the alcohol made her feel warm inside, almost like a comforting hug. “That’s better. Just breathe.”
The bottle slipped from her grasp as she turned to her balcony and saw two glowing red eyes in the darkness. Homelander quietly landed on the outside platform and gently knocked on the glass doors with a smile. “Just checking you had returned home safely. Goodnight, Miss Harper.”
“Fuck.” She watched as he waved and disappeared as quickly as he appeared. She hoped with every fibre of her being that he hadn’t been watching her the entire time.
Madelyn continued prattling on with Mike behind her as the makeup artist added touches of concealer to her face. The talk of how the song was perfect for tonight, how it would reach millions as they tuned into Vought TV.
“You do realise that the song isn’t exactly a love story, correct?” Harper interjected as Madelyn said how much Homelander had enjoyed listening to the song this morning. Apparently he had the last word of what would be performed tonight, but Harper knew that Miss Madelyn was the one that really pulled the reins.
“We don’t need a love story. We need drama.
“We need passion.
“We need fire. It’s perfect for Homelander, and with your voice, its gold dust.”
I know it’s a brilliant song, that’s why I wrote it. Harper bit her tongue and turned back to her reflection. This collaboration was already beginning to bore her. Vought had so many rules and regulations… quite frankly it was tedious. There were songs she could no longer sing and subjects that should be avoided. She was a grown woman that enjoyed singing about simple pleasures, but this would be too much for the religious groups that supported Vought so it was no longer an option.
It was humbling enough that she had to pretend that the little prick Mike was her boss, but now she had Vought to contend with… if she didn’t enjoy her ability to blend in the shadows and hunt as The Siren, then she’d reveal herself on camera and show them exactly who she was. Humanity was so dull.
A hurried knock echoed around the room and redhead poked her head around the door. “You’re on in 5, Harper.”
“Ah, you guys killed it as always!” Homelander clapped along with the audience, his signature toothy grin on show as he bowed to the cheers and praise. He fucking loved his birthday performance. It was all about him. The only name on everyone’s lips was his and all of the sycophants bowed down to him and threw money at Vought. What wasn’t to love?
“Now, I have a special someone here tonight that I’d like to introduce to you all. Her voice is world renowned and her talents are endless. It is my pleasure to welcome on to the stage, Harper!” He backed off, joining in with the applause, and stood back behind the curtains. His smile dropped and his glare pierced into the girl that stood in the darkness on the stage. This better be the performance of a lifetime.
A single light flickered on in the background to reveal Harper stood by herself, looking down at her feet that peaked out from under the dress. She wore a flowy white gown with makeup designed to look like glittering tears down her cheeks. Her gaze slowly rose to face the centre camera as she raised the microphone.
Angel of my dreams
I will always love you and hate you, it's not fair
It's so bittersweet
I will always want you and need you, you don't care
You don't-
As she finished the first verse, some more dim lights turned on and followed her form. She almost looked ethereal as she stepped forward to the centre of the stage and held her hand to her chest.
Care that I'm mad, care that I'm sad
It's so bad, it's funny
Care if I cry, care if I die
You only care about money (money)
Sellin' my soul to a psycho
They say I'm so lucky
Better act like you're lucky, honey
Harper gave a sneer as she sang the last line. All of her thoughts going to Vought and the ridiculous management company that thought they controlled her. Oh, she’d show them who the lucky one was. They were all lucky that she let them continue to breathe in her presence.
But it feels nice
In the spotlight
When the camera flashy, I act so happy
I'm in heaven when you're lookin' at me
She allowed a smile to grace her face as the music altered tempo and noted that people sat forward in their chairs. They were eager to have even an ounce of her attention and she adored it. She was a star, after all. The Siren was a performer of the arts and enjoyed nothing more than her audience showing her just how desperate and starving they all were. The whispers of the The Siren made her sound like she was the one that hungered, but she wasn’t. How could she be hungry when people gave themselves to her at every instant. They gave their awe, their focus, their dedication. Each droplet was carefully savoured by her.
Angel of my dreams
I will always love you and hate you, it's not fair
It's so bittersweet
I will always want you and need you, you don't care
Love when you call me a star
You let me down in the dark
Want you and need you, you don't care
It's not fair
Homelander sucked in a breath as the emotion of the song gave her voice a more gravelly quality. She danced forward, arms moving with the music as she span around the stage. The minimal lighting of the performance added further atmosphere as the single female took the attention of everybody in front of her. He felt his heart pound as he absorbed every fibre of her being. His fists clenched as he fought the urge to pull her into his arms and taste every inch of her. He had been so close the other evening to acting out on his desires but he stopped himself. He was certain her eyes had been glowing when he hovered outside of her room. If Madelyn hadn’t been talking to him and he had been earlier, then he was certain he would have seen her true face. There was something about her. She wasn’t like the humans around her. Her body let out an energy and a scent that he hadn’t experienced before. It wasn’t human, that much he was certain, but he hadn’t managed to catch it yet. Was she a supe? He felt like she was, there was something chemical about her, but he needed more than a hunch. He needed evidence. He would get evidence.
Fair that I try, fair that I grind
Fair that I buy you sushi
Got you a car, got you a house
Got you a suit, it's Gucci
If I don't win, I'm in the bin
You say you never knew me
But when I pop off you sue me, so sue me
She winked into the camera, knowing that Mike was watching with Madelyn backstage. Let them watch. Let them see exactly who the fuck she was. She had more power than they realised, even when showing herself as just a little human. This was her show. This was her game. This was her meal.
But it feels nice (it feels nice)
In the spotlight (in the spotlight)
When the camera flashy, I act so happy
I’m in heaven
I’m in heaven
I'm in heaven when you're lookin' at me
Harper felt her disgust bubbling within her veins as she belted out at the last words. Her anger and upset over her current treatment flowed through as she sang. She wasn’t some piece of furniture to bartered over. She was The fucking Siren. She ate people for a fucking living and made the rest fall in love with her. Fuck Homelander. Fuck Vought!
Angel of my dreams
I will always love you and hate you, it's not fair
It's so bittersweet
I will always want you and need you, you don't care
Love when you call me a star
You let me down in the dark
Want you and need you, you don't care
It's not fair
Homelander felt his trunks tighten as the girl stormed across the stage and her voice echoed throughout the arena. She didn’t even need the microphone; her voice hit the eardrums of each and every person within the immediate area. The camera kept focused on her face, zooming in on her eyes as she completely let herself loose within the music. He saw the truth in her eyes. The anger, the hatred. The tears dropped down her face as part of the act but he could taste the salty liquid as though they poured down his own throat. He wanted to drink them like he was a man lost in the desert and they were his only water. He wanted to consume her fully.
Angel of my dreams
I will always love you and hate you, it's not fair
It's so bittersweet
I will always want you and need you, you don't care
I'll always love you
Harper ended the performance on her knees with an arm outstretched to the camera that zoomed in on her face. She forced tears out of her eyes and exhaled a deep breath as the audience immediately stood and applauded her. Her face remained with the heartbroken expression for a few moments before she broke character and grinned. The energy around her sunk into her paws and she bit her lip as it sank into her pores and made her blood sing. Oh, how she longed to tear them apart with her teeth. Perhaps one day she’d have her moment to engorge herself, but for now, the energy that came off them would be enough.
