Olivia
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"Game on, fuck face"
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#Andie write with people for their writing, character not purely the FC. If the FC is problematic then that is different again.
as a whole, people put tons of effort into ocs, characters, headcanons, give them a chance.
cheers. 🩷
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"Game on, fuck face"
Lets ride, again
And what of he felt more comfortable talking over a few beers?
Thats rough. He's welcome to sign on as a patient.
Well, he was a GodU drop out that was homeless for years until the execs at Vought saw him on TV and thought theyd use his need for approval as a way to weaponize him against protesters for starters
Does he have issues she can help him work on
@therapyforsupes damn. He might have to start going to therapy
An OC crafted for The Boys [new pinned]
Regular human — Therapist
Hired by Vought to help supes with their mental & emotional stability
Polite - helpful - friendly
Seeking interactions & mains
Writer: https://t.co/xwgqV7MA7X⠀
Video credit: @/b.xedits on tikok
Broken nose, small stab wound in his side, possible (definite) concussion
With Stan Edgar back in charge of Vought, theres been little communication his way
Leaving him going back to police scanners and intervening where he can
I have no idea what to do with myself anymore.
I think its time to accept the fact, the job is all I'll have. And im thankful to have even that
I know ill never be someone's first choice personally, or even their backup
But solo, I can be the best vigilante I can be
*Aftermath: part 2, The greatest lie ever told*
It was a pit of betrayal that only grew darker. When Kai learned Homelander still lived, the layers of deceit crashed over her like a tidal wave. She’d stolen only a few precious hours with him before her father dragged her away. “But… I just got him back,” she’d whispered, desperation cracking her voice. Her protests dissolved into the cold walls around her—no one cared that her heart was ripping in two. And then she discovered the unthinkable: Stan Edgar was in on it. Her blood boiled so fiercely she thought her head might split open.
They led her into a sterile conference room where John’s security team hovered, faces blank as tombstones. Victor’s voice was clipped: continue playing the grieving widow. Reveal nothing. Not a word about Homelander’s survival until they commanded. Kai tasted bile; her stomach knotted tight. She nodded numbly, aching to flee.
In the waiting SUV, she saw Stan already settled in the back seat. He slid forward with a practiced smile and reached out. Kai shoved him away. “How could you? You—of all people—promised me the truth!” His apology was silky and rehearsed, laced with empty promises. “Once this is over, darling, you and the children will be safe.” His words dripped like poison. Kai pressed her forehead against the cool window, fought a wave of exhaustion, and prayed the nightmare would end. Sleep claimed her before she could answer.
By morning, Stan was back—this time with a script. He handed her pages of lies disguised as a eulogy. “Channel your pain,” he coached, voice soft and cruel. “Make America feel what you felt when he died.” Kai stared at the ink, her hands shaking so hard she dropped the pages. He patted her arm, his touch colder than ice. “You’ve got this, sweetheart.” She closed her eyes, willing herself to comply.
In the makeup chair, her reflection was a ghost: hollow cheeks, haunted eyes. They tried to paint life back into her face. When they guided her onto the stage, she felt every heartbeat like a hammer blow. Stan gave her a thumbs-up from the wings. She swallowed against the lump in her throat and stepped to the podium.
“On May 20th, America and my family lost a great hero and President. Homelander was brutally murdered before our eyes by William Butcher and his group, The Boys.” Her voice cracked. Every syllable gutted her. “None of us will ever forget that savagery. My babies were spared the sight, and for that I am grateful.” Tears spilled down unbidden. “The terrorists and their accomplices were arrested and will face justice. I want to thank our federal agencies for their swift action. America will not tolerate this atrocity. They will be executed for the murder of my husband and the terror they wrought. May they rot in hell.” She paused, chest heaving. The words burned on her tongue, but the lie scorched deeper.
Gathering herself, she forced a fragile smile. “I ask for your privacy as I grieve. I do not know how to fill the void his absence leaves.” Her voice trembled into a whisper. “Every day, the wound reopens. Thank you, God bless America—and Homelander.” She fled the stage before applause or tears could claim her, scampering back to her penthouse and locking the door behind trembling arms.
The next morning, her tablet buzzed with the aftermath. Vought’s stock had skyrocketed. Comments flooded in—some vicious, some compassionate. Stan had been right. The charade worked.
Weeks crawled by. America reeled from its grief. Kai spent every waking moment alone with her babies, clinging to memories of that stolen morning with John. Then a text: meeting at The Seven’ s wing in fifteen minutes.
Her pulse thundered as she entered the room. Stan and her father flanked the security team, silent sentinels. On the screen flickered Homelander’s face—alive, radiant, godlike. He laughed, joking with the security chief. He saw her, beaming. “Hey, honey! Ready for me?” His grin was electric. Kai felt her knees weaken.
The security manager outlined the plan: in two days, after The Boys’ trial, Homelander would appear at a press conference. She would be there. He would reclaim his throne. Homelander’s smirk was triumphant. “Perfect,” he purred. “You stay the mourning widow. No one can ever guess you knew.”
She forced out a cold laugh. “This better be worth every shattered piece of me—and this marriage.” Without waiting for an answer, she turned and stalked away.
When the verdict came, she watched the sentencing online: death by treason and terrorism. A quiet relief curled in her chest. But as the feds spoke, the screen buzzed back to life—Homelander, alive, descending from the sky. Cheers erupted. He raised his arms like a deity. “I faked my death to flush out traitors,” he announced. Applause and stunned silence rippled through the crowd. He declared his family sacred and America untouchable.
Kai’s heart hammered. The elevator ride up to the press area felt endless. When the car door slid open, she bolted into the crowd, tears blinding her. He swooped down, arms encircling her. She collapsed into his embrace, sobs muffled by his indomitable strength. Flashbulbs ignited like bursts of lightning, the roar of the crowd drowning out her grief.
He leaned close, voice low against her hair. “I know you hate me for this.”
She pressed her face into his chest, breath ragged. “ I really do.”
He smiled, a dark, beautiful thing. “But you love me.”
Her tears stung brighter than joy, but she nodded. “Of course, anything for you.”
//This stupid platform is forcing me to use the website version and wont let me log into the app
Studying new fighting styles
ﾒ𖹭 кαι gιℓℓмαη
ﾒ𖹭 ѕєηισя ∂ιяє¢тσя σƒ нєяσ мαηαgємєηт ∂єρт; νσυgнт ѕρє¢ιαℓ ѕєяνι¢єѕ αη∂ ραят-тιмє мσ∂єℓ
ﾒ𖹭 σ¢ мυѕє σƒ тнє вσуѕ νєяѕє, ¢αη вє ℓєω∂ αт тιмєѕ, ∂αяк тнємєѕ, мν, αυ, м∂ηι, ωяιтєя ιѕ 21+
@kaiatvought You
I know you've been through alot the past few days
Wanted you to know, some of us are still thinking of you
Myself included
✨️Private Angel
✨️Vought Superhero
✨️The Boys, MS, AU, MDNI
Hockey, Lacrosse, Curling, that weird version of football, whats not to love?
canada is fuckin’ lovely this time of year.
//Most OCs i see are so powerful
And I'm like, oh yeah? Archer the Eagle once kicked my ass for stealing his bow and arrow bit
@RosaryRuin "And here I thought I dropped the ball already"
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