7h
Ryan.,.,
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from Italy
seen from Canada
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Germany
seen from Ukraine
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
Ryan.,.,
The Boys AU: Butcher in Australia
Imagine : Ryan is a newborn, tiny enough that Homelander can hold him in one arm like he weighs nothing at all. And of course Homelander is smirking, because nothing delights him more than holding something that is his..
Homelander stands in the middle of the nursery Vought built overnight—sterile white walls, gold accents, and a ridiculous amount of patriotic décor. He’s in his full suit: the dark blue gabardine jumpsuit, the foam‑latex molded muscles, the weighted red‑and‑white cape, the eagle epaulets, the metallic belt. The whole thing screams insecurity dressed as patriotism.
But right now? He’s calm. Almost soft.
Ryan is bundled in a tiny blanket, blinking up at him with newborn confusion. Homelander’s smirk deepens.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice syrupy. “Perfect.”
---
🌏 Meanwhile… Butcher vs. The Universe
Butcher wakes up face‑down in Queensland, Australia, and the universe has clearly decided it’s done with his nonsense.
He sits up, sweating instantly—because it’s 98 degrees, humid, and the sun is actively trying to kill him. He has:
• No passport
• No visa
• No money
• No clue
• And three venomous spiders circling him like he’s today’s special
The redback spider sits on a rock, judging him.
The northern tree funnel‑web lurks in the shade, plotting.
The mouse spider is just… there, being worse than anything Sydney ever produced.
Butcher squints at them.
“Oi. I’m not bloody food.”
The spiders do not care.
He tries to stand, but the heat slams him back down. He mutters every curse word known to man, plus a few he invents on the spot. He looks around for civilization—nothing but trees, dust, and the distant sound of something that might be a kangaroo or might be his impending death.
“Homelander’s got my boy,” he growls. “And I’m stuck in a bloody oven full of spiders.”
The universe does not apologize.
---
🍼 Back at Vought
Homelander sits in a plush chair, rocking Ryan gently. He’s still smirking—smug, victorious, glowing with the kind of pride that makes everyone else uncomfortable.
Ryan yawns, tiny mouth opening like a baby bird.
Homelander’s chest swells.
“You’re safe with me,” he whispers. “No one’s taking you away.”
He doesn’t know where Butcher is.
He doesn’t care.
All he knows is that his newborn son is warm, quiet, and his.
---
🌪️ And somewhere in Queensland…
Butcher is now running from a spider the size of a dinner plate.
He trips.
He swears.
He threatens the entire continent.
The universe continues to treat him like the enemy.
Homelander is still in that pristine Vought nursery, the air-conditioning humming softly, the lights warm and golden like the world is trying to flatter him. Ryan is tiny—newborn tiny—his whole fist barely the size of Homelander’s thumb. And Homelander is holding him like he’s the most precious thing ever manufactured.
🦅 Homelander & His Newborn
Homelander sits in the rocking chair Vought installed just for him, the dark blue Homelander suit creaking slightly as he shifts. The molded muscles don’t move naturally, but he pretends they do. His cape drapes over the chair like a flag claiming territory.
Ryan blinks up at him—slow, unfocused newborn blinks. His tiny mouth opens in a soft “o” of confusion.
Homelander smirks.
Not the public smirk.
Not the press‑conference smirk.
This one is quieter, more dangerous, more mine.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, brushing a gloved thumb across Ryan’s cheek. “Absolutely perfect.”
Ryan makes a tiny squeak.
Homelander’s heart does something he would never admit.
---
🍼 The Routine He Invents
Homelander decides immediately that Ryan needs a schedule. Not a doctor’s schedule. Not a normal baby schedule. A Homelander schedule.
• Feeding time whenever Ryan makes even the smallest noise
• Nap time only when Homelander says so
• Cuddle time whenever Homelander feels like being adored
• Patriotic bonding time (which is just Homelander talking about himself while Ryan sleeps)
He carries Ryan around the nursery like a trophy, pacing slowly, cape swaying behind him.
“You’re going to grow up strong,” he whispers. “Stronger than anyone. Stronger than him.”
He doesn’t say Butcher’s name.
He doesn’t need to.
Ryan yawns again, tiny and soft.
Homelander beams.
---
🌟 The First Smile (or… gas)
Ryan’s face twitches.
His lips curl.
His eyes squint.
Homelander freezes.
“Is that—are you smiling at Daddy?”
Ryan lets out a small burp.
Homelander decides it was a smile anyway.
He holds Ryan closer, chin resting lightly on the baby’s head, cape wrapped around them both like a shield.
“You’re safe,” he whispers. “No one’s taking you from me.”
And for the first time in his entire life, Homelander feels… calm.
Ryan is only a few days old—tiny, warm, soft, and still figuring out how to exist. Homelander has him cradled in one arm, pacing slowly across the nursery floor like he’s carrying the crown jewels. His cape sways behind him, the weighted fabric shifting with every step.
Ryan stares up at him.
Not blinking.
Not fussing.
Just… staring.
That newborn, slightly confused, slightly judgmental stare.
Homelander smirks.
“You like looking at Daddy, huh?”
Ryan keeps staring.
Homelander leans in a little, proud, glowing, already imagining this is the moment his son recognizes him as the greatest father alive.
And then—
Ryan’s tiny face scrunches.
His eyebrows pull together.
His lips purse.
His whole body tenses.
Homelander freezes.
“Oh—oh, is that a smile? Are you—”
GRUNT.
A tiny, determined newborn grunt.
Followed by a sound that absolutely does not belong in a pristine Vought nursery.
pffft.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
But unmistakably, undeniably, 100% a fart.
Ryan’s eyes widen.
He stares at Homelander like he did it.
Homelander blinks.
“…Was that—did you just—”
Ryan grunts again.
Another tiny pffft escapes.
Homelander’s smirk collapses into stunned silence.
He looks down at his newborn son, who is now completely relaxed, tiny fists unclenching, face softening like he just accomplished the greatest feat of his life.
Ryan lets out a satisfied sigh.
Homelander whispers, voice barely audible:
“…That was a fart.”
Ryan stares at him again, this time with the calm serenity of a baby who has accepted his own power.
Homelander slowly starts to smile—an actual smile, not the PR one.
“My boy,” he murmurs. “Strong already.”
He adjusts Ryan in his arms, cape shifting behind him, pride swelling in his chest like he just witnessed a milestone worthy of national celebration.
Ryan yawns.
Homelander beams.
“You’re perfect.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Left Alive
Chapter 6: The Price of Attention
As John slowly begins to recover, he is forced to confront the limits of his new life, while Butcher’s presence becomes increasingly difficult to ignore.
The Boys vs. South Australia’s Arachnid Mafia
Imagine : neon‑tan Butcher, judgmental Australian spiders, Homelander smirking like he’s filming a perfume commercial, and baby Ryan toddling around Vought like it’s his personal mall.
Baby Ryan: age 1, walking, babbling, and Vought has baby‑proofed EVERYTHING.
Homelander: wearing the suit — the dark blue gabardine jumpsuit, foam‑latex muscles, weighted flag cape, red gloves, red boots, eagle epaulets, metallic belt — and smirking like he owns the planet.
🕷️ Meanwhile… South Australia
The Boys + Butcher got drunk. Not tipsy. Not “we made bad choices.”
No — drunk enough to teleport to South Australia.
They wake up LIVE on the news.
Smoke in their hair.
Neon tan.
Wallets missing.
Hughie holding a boomerang he does NOT remember acquiring.
MM clutching a jar labeled “DO NOT OPEN — SPIDER INSIDE??”
Frenchie wearing a shirt that says I Survived The Outback (Barely).
And surrounding them?
Huntsman spiders. Garden Orb Weavers. St. Andrew’s Cross spiders.
All huge. All staring.
All giving the vibe of: “Oh. New humans. Hello.”
The Boys scream like they’re being murdered.
The spiders blink slowly, judging them like suburban moms at a PTA meeting.
One Huntsman leans toward the camera, eight legs planted like a bouncer:
“We won’t bite unless you mess with us. Also… what is with the neon tan.”
Another spider gestures at Butcher:
“Mate, your wallet’s in the eucalyptus tree. You tried to fight it.”
The spiders then look DIRECTLY into the news camera like:
“Come get these idiots.”
---
🦅 Back at Vought
Homelander is watching the broadcast, smirking so hard it looks painful.
Baby Ryan toddles across the baby‑proofed floor, giggling, reaching for Homelander’s chest piece — the sculpted foam-latex muscles he loves to sleep on.
Homelander scoops him up, cape swaying dramatically, and kisses the top of Ryan’s head on live TV.
He looks straight into the camera with that smug, patriotic, I’m‑better‑than‑everyone expression:
“My son is thriving. Unlike… whatever that is.”
He gestures at the screen showing The Boys being herded by spiders like livestock.
Ryan pats Homelander’s chest, cooing.
Homelander beams like he just won Father of the Year.
---
🕷️ Cut back to Australia
The spiders have formed a circle around The Boys.
Not attacking.
Just judging.
One spider taps Butcher’s boot:
“You smell like tequila and regret.”
Butcher screams again.
The spiders sigh.
The news anchor whispers:
“If anyone from Vought is watching… please collect your… people.”
---
THE REDBACK: VERY VENOMOUS, VERY ANNOYED, VERY MUCH OVER IT
She’s huge — not Huntsman huge, but presence huge.
Black body, perfect red stripe, legs tucked neatly like she’s posing for a museum exhibit.
She doesn’t move.
She doesn’t twitch.
She doesn’t threaten.
She just stares.
And her stare says:
“I am extremely venomous.
I am extremely annoyed.
And you are extremely not from here.”
The Boys freeze mid‑panic.
Smoke still in their hair.
Neon tan glowing like radioactive glow sticks.
Wallets missing.
Frenchie holding a boomerang he doesn’t remember stealing.
The Redback blinks once — slow, unimpressed.
“You are fine unless you mess with me.”
Her tone would be calm if spiders talked — like a tired kindergarten teacher who has seen too much chaos for one lifetime.
Behind her, the Huntsman queen watches proudly, like “Yes, that’s my girl.”
The Garden Orb Weavers and St. Andrew’s Cross spiders shift aside respectfully — because when the Redback shows up, everyone gives her space.
She leans slightly toward the camera, red stripe glowing under the lights:
“Come get these idiots.”
---
🦅 Cut to Vought
Homelander is watching this live broadcast with the SMUGGEST grin ever recorded in human history.
Baby Ryan is giggling at the Redback like she’s a cartoon character.
Homelander mutters:
“She has better discipline than Butcher.”
Ryan pats his chest armor. Homelander beams like he just won a parenting award.
---
🕷️ Back to the Redback
She hasn’t moved.
She hasn’t threatened.
She hasn’t twitched.
She just stares at the camera like:
“I am venomous.
I am annoyed.
I am not babysitting.”
The Boys scream again.
She sighs.
“Someone come collect them.”
HOMELANDER ARRIVES — WITH RYAN ON HIS HIP, OBVIOUSLY
Homelander lands in the Outback like he’s doing a perfume commercial.
Cape swaying.
Foam‑latex muscles flexing.
Smirk at maximum power.
Ryan is perched on his hip — one tiny hand gripping the red‑and‑white cape like it’s his emotional support flag.
Ryan sees the spiders and immediately coos.
Not scared.
Not confused.
Just: “Oh! Normal!”
Because Vought baby‑proofed everything except Homelander’s ego, and Ryan has already seen weird stuff.
---
🕷️ THE NON‑VENOMOUS SPIDERS REACT
The Huntsman queen, Garden Orb Weavers, and St. Andrew’s Cross spiders all turn toward Homelander and Ryan.
And their collective expression is:
“Ah. Normal humans.”
They don’t flinch.
They don’t scatter.
They don’t judge Ryan — he’s a baby, he gets a pass.
They just stare calmly, like:
“Finally. Someone who isn’t neon tan and screaming.”
One Garden Orb Weaver even tilts her head politely, as if greeting Ryan:
“Hello, tiny human.”
Ryan giggles and waves at her.
Homelander smirks harder — proud dad mode activated.
---
🕷️ THE REDBACK WATCHES FROM THE WALL
She’s still perched there, glossy black body, red stripe glowing like a warning sign.
She stares at Homelander.
She stares at Ryan.
She stares at The Boys.
Her vibe is:
“My fangs may be small.
My bite may feel weak.
Don’t be fooled.”
But she doesn’t move.
She doesn’t threaten.
She doesn’t care.
Because Ryan is calm.
Homelander is calm (smug, but calm).
And the spiders know:
“You’re fine unless you mess with her.”
The Huntsman queen nods at Homelander like:
“Take your humans and go.”
The Garden Orb Weavers stare like exhausted teachers.
The St. Andrew’s Cross spiders hang in their perfect X‑webs, judging silently.
---
🦅 HOMELANDER’S REACTION
He looks around at the spiders — dozens of them — all staring calmly at him and Ryan.
He mutters:
“See, buddy? They’re friendly. Unlike Butcher.”
Ryan pats his chest armor.
Homelander beams like he just won Father of the Year.
Meanwhile The Boys are still screaming.
The spiders sigh.
The Redback stares harder.
“Come get these idiots.”
THE COCKROACH INCIDENT
Ryan toddles forward, clutching a little plastic bag like it’s his treasure.
Homelander: confused but supportive dad mode
The Boys: already screaming
The spiders: suddenly VERY interested
Ryan opens the bag.
And out tumble huge dead American flying cockroaches — the kind that look like they pay rent.
He throws them on the ground like:
“Here!”
Homelander blinks.
Butcher screams.
Frenchie screams in French.
MM screams in dad‑voice.
Hughie screams in Hughie‑voice.
Ryan claps proudly.
---
🕷️ THE SPIDERS’ REACTION
The Huntsman queen freezes mid‑judgment.
The Garden Orb Weavers perk up.
The St. Andrew’s Cross spiders shift in their webs.
And the Redback?
Her eight eyes widen like:
“Oh. Dinner.”
All four species move in with the calm, coordinated grace of a spider buffet line.
They don’t rush.
They don’t fight.
They don’t hiss.
They just approach the pile like:
“Finally, something useful from these humans.”
The Huntsman queen grabs one roach delicately.
“Imported. Fancy.”
A Garden Orb Weaver takes one and nods approvingly.
“Crunchy.”
A St. Andrew’s Cross spider drags one back to her X‑web like she’s meal‑prepping.
The Redback takes hers slowly, elegantly, like she’s tasting wine.
“Weak fangs. Strong venom. Don’t be fooled.”
She glances at Ryan.
“Good child.”
Ryan beams.
---
🦅 HOMELANDER’S REACTION
He looks down at Ryan, then at the spiders feasting, then at The Boys screaming like they’re witnessing a ritual.
Homelander mutters:
“He’s generous. Unlike Butcher.”
Ryan pats his chest armor.
Homelander beams like he just won Father of the Year.
---
🕷️ THE NON‑VENOMOUS SPIDERS JUDGING THE BOYS
The Huntsman queen looks at the camera like:
“Look at them. Screaming over dinner.”
The Garden Orb Weavers stare like:
“Normal humans. Finally.”
The St. Andrew’s Cross spiders hang in their perfect webs, annoyed but grateful.
The Redback finishes her roach and says:
“Come get these idiots.”
THE PETTY BUS PUNISHMENT
Homelander stands there, Ryan on his hip, cape swaying, foam‑latex muscles flexing, smirk at MAXIMUM smugness.
The Boys are still screaming because the spiders are finishing the last of the cockroaches Ryan gifted them.
Homelander gestures toward a big white Australian coach bus parked nearby:
“Transportation back to New York.
Get on.”
Butcher squints.
MM frowns.
Hughie looks confused.
Frenchie whispers, “This does not look like a plane.”
Homelander hands the driver $100 like he’s tipping a pizza guy.
“Take them to Adelaide.”
The driver nods.
The Boys get on because they’re too scared of the spiders to argue.
The spiders watch them board like:
“Finally. Peace.”
---
🕷️ THE SPIDERS’ REACTION
The Huntsman queen tilts her head:
“Eleven hours. Good.”
The Garden Orb Weavers stare politely:
“They need the time to calm down.”
The St. Andrew’s Cross spiders hang in their perfect webs:
“Normal humans. Finally leaving.”
The Redback, perched on the wall, gives one slow blink:
“Weak fangs. Strong venom.
Stronger petty energy.”
She approves.
---
🦅 HOMELANDER’S LIE
Homelander watches the bus pull away, Ryan on his hip.
Ryan waves at the spiders.
Homelander mutters:
“This will take them back to New York.”
He lies.
Effortlessly.
Professionally.
He’s good at this.
Ryan coos like he knows his dad is being petty and supports it.
---
🪳 RYAN LEAVES THE COCKROACHES
Ryan toddles back toward the spiders and leaves the remaining dead American flying cockroaches on the ground like:
“For you.”
The spiders stare at him like he’s their tiny chosen one.
The Huntsman queen nods:
“He must have a pet spider.”
The Redback leans forward:
“He understands us.”
The Garden Orb Weavers whisper:
“He is spider‑approved.”
The St. Andrew’s Cross spiders hang proudly:
“He knows our ways.”
---
🚌 THE BOYS ON THE BUS
The bus pulls away.
The Boys stare out the window, horrified, sunburnt, neon tan glowing, smoke still in their hair.
Butcher mutters:
“This ain’t New York.”
Frenchie: “We are in the desert.”
MM: “This is eleven hours.”
Hughie: “I think he lied.”
The spiders watch the bus leave like:
“Good riddance.”
RYAN + YOUTUBE + FIFTH HARMONY = HOMELANDER’S CONFUSION ARC
Ryan is sitting on the Vought Tower nursery floor, iPad glowing, tiny fingers tapping like he’s hacking the Pentagon.
He opens YouTube.
The algorithm:
FIFTH HARMONY (2012–2018 ERA)
Front and center.
Ryan taps I’m In Love With a Monster — the Hotel Transylvania 2 song.
The video loads.
And then…
⭐ ALLY BROOKE APPEARS
Tiny.
Fast.
Snapping her fingers.
Pointing at the camera.
Singing at warp‑speed like she’s trying to outrun the WiFi.
Ryan SCREAMS with joy.
Homelander, standing behind him, freezes.
Cape swaying.
Foam‑latex muscles flexing.
Eyes narrowing.
He stares at Ally Brooke like:
“What… is that?”
Ally snaps again — SNAP SNAP SNAP — pointing directly at the camera with that signature Fifth Harmony energy.
Ryan giggles harder.
Homelander leans in, confused:
“Why is she so fast?
Why is she pointing at me?
Why is she snapping at the child?”
Ally Brooke hits the chorus, hands flying, voice going 200 words per second.
Homelander’s face:
😐 → 😳 → 😦 → 😨
He looks at Ryan.
Ryan is dancing.
Ryan is clapping.
Ryan is obsessed.
Homelander whispers:
“Is she a supe?”
---
🎶 THE VIDEO GETS EVEN WORSE FOR HIM
Lauren Jauregui appears.
Normani appears.
Dinah appears.
Camila appears.
But Ally?
She’s the one who keeps pointing at the camera like she’s calling out Homelander personally.
Homelander steps back like:
“Why is she challenging me?”
Ryan rewinds the video.
Ally snaps again.
Points again.
Sings faster.
Homelander flinches.
---
🦅 HOMELANDER’S FINAL THOUGHT
He looks at Ryan, then at the iPad, then at Ally Brooke snapping at him through the screen.
“We’re blocking YouTube.”
Ryan: coos and taps replay
Homelander: defeated dad noises
🎶 MISS MOVIN’ ON — THE LAUREN ERA RETURNS
Ryan taps the screen again, and suddenly:
FIFTH HARMONY — Miss Movin’ On (2013)
The video loads.
The colors pop.
The nostalgia hits.
And then—
💗 LAUREN JAUREGUI APPEARS
Light pink Acrylic Beaded Chunky Multi Strand Statement Necklace.
The one she wore during the early Fifth Harmony era.
The one that started the chunky necklace trend.
The one that has initials on the back.
Lauren steps into frame, hair straight, eyes intense, necklace glowing like a relic of 2013.
Ryan SCREAMS with joy.
Homelander freezes mid‑stride.
Cape swaying.
Chest armor shining.
Eyes narrowing like he’s analyzing a threat.
---
🦅 HOMELANDER’S CONFUSION LEVEL: MAXIMUM
Lauren sings her verse, voice smooth, eyes locked on the camera.
Her necklace bounces with every move — bright, pink, chunky, iconic.
Ryan claps.
Homelander stares at the screen like:
“Why is she wearing so many beads?”
Lauren points at the camera.
Homelander flinches.
Lauren sings harder.
Homelander squints.
Lauren’s necklace swings dramatically.
Homelander mutters:
“Is that… armor?”
Ryan rewinds the video.
Lauren appears again.
Necklace front and center.
Homelander steps back like:
“Why is she challenging me with jewelry?”
---
🎤 THE VIDEO GETS EVEN MORE CHAOTIC FOR HIM
Normani appears — confident.
Dinah appears — powerful.
Ally appears — snapping again.
Camila appears — dramatic.
But Lauren?
Lauren is the one wearing the chunky pink necklace that looks like it weighs five pounds and has emotional significance.
Homelander stares at it like it’s a tactical device.
Ryan taps the screen again.
Lauren’s necklace swings again.
Homelander whispers:
“We’re blocking YouTube.”
Ryan: giggles and taps replay
Homelander: defeated dad noises.
CUT TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA — THE BOYS ARE SUFFERING
The Boys + Butcher are STILL in the exact same nightmare:
• Huntsman spiders watching them like disappointed teachers
• Garden orb weavers judging their life choices
• St. Andrew’s Cross spiders acting like bouncers
• Hughie holding a boomerang he doesn’t remember getting
• MM clutching a jar labeled “SPIDER INSIDE??”
• Frenchie wearing a shirt that says I Survived The Outback (Barely)
• Butcher sunburnt, dehydrated, and furious
They are STILL on the news.
They are STILL being herded by spiders.
They are STILL screaming.
They are STILL stuck.
---
🦅 MEANWHILE, BACK AT Vought…
Homelander has just:
• stolen an iPad that wasn’t even Ryan’s
• thrown it out the window
• traumatized Vought’s accounting department
• calmed Ryan with the chest piece
• whispered “I’m not telling Ashley”
• pretended nothing happened
Ashley is sweating.
Ryan is snuggled.
Homelander is smug.
---
🌩️ THE BOYS HAVE NO IDEA ANY OF THIS IS HAPPENING
They’re still in South Australia like:
“Where the bloody hell is Homelander?!”
Meanwhile Homelander is inside Vought like:
“My son is calm now. Crisis averted.”
The Boys are fighting spiders.
Ryan is cuddling armor.
The Boys are dehydrated.
Ryan is cooing.
The Boys are wanted in multiple countries.
Ryan is babbling “Da‑da.”
The Boys are on Australian news.
Homelander is blocking YouTube.
---
🕷️ THE SPIDERS ARE FED UP
One spider looks at Butcher and says:
“Mate, you’ve been here for HOURS. Leave.”
Butcher screams.
The spider sighs.
---
🦅 HOMELANDER’S FINAL THOUGHT
He looks at Ryan, peaceful and calm.
He looks at the window where the iPad flew.
He whispers:
“At least we’re not in Australia.”
He has NO IDEA they ARE.
I don't understand why Grace Mallory had to die. Just have her manage to capture Ryan at the end of season 4 and "train" him. It changes nothing about season 5. Ryan could act the same way in it without contradicting how he was in previous seasons, because we'd know why he changed his mind on killing, on dying for Grace and Billy's cause, and on fighting Homelander. We'd even have a solid reason for his reduced screentime in season 5, as we'd know going into the season that Ryan is in a CIA black site going through a truncated version of what Homelander went through. Billy can still give in but not really to Kessler and start betting on the virus. Just have him/Kessler yammer a bit about needing a contingency because he's not sure Ryan has what it takes.
If history is bound to repeat in any case due to Stan and Vought surviving the series, let's just lean into it. Get into it during the final season. Ryan follows the path Vought most likely would have set him on in the same way they would have. Let our protagonists fight fire with fire.
Then we'd also have a reason for MM abruptly starting to care about Ryan in the finale. He learned what Mallory and Butcher did to him, feels awful for not realizing what they were capable of doing to a kid, and resolves to look out for Ryan going forward.