#heart and homeland

[bluedalahorse]

Chapter 29 of Heart and Homeland is now live

Today is the very special day that @heliza24 and I’s fanfic surpasses 200k words! Come celebrate with us by reading the latest update.

This section is primarily narrated by Sara as the terms of her house arrest are relaxed and she tries to navigate life in the palace. Are things finally settling down into a new normal? Or are she and Wilhelm still in danger from the Frihet Society? Not to mention her nightmares of a rather gothic flavor…

August 1 Dreamed of Simon, with his arms around a bloody (newborn?) foal, screaming out my name over the sound of thunder. I screamed back until my throat was raw, but Simon could neither hear nor see me. Does he dream of me? Will I ever see him again?   Woke late again, to Lotta sitting at my bedside and staring. She has a way of going without blinking for so long that it makes me want to bury my face in my pillow and not be seen at all.

Also: further development of the Wilhelm-Sara friendship and a Stedrika cameo. Finally, if your preferred flavor of August is Villain Arc, you’ll get strong hints of that in this chapter that are building to some dare-I-say dramatic turns in the next few chapters.

We promise you that you won’t want to miss it. See you over at AO3!

[heliza24]

Chapter 27 of Heart and Homeland is now live!

The next chapter of @bluedalahorse and my regency era historical epic Young Royals fic features Wilhelm finding his political voice, the debut of our version of Boris, and August being as devilishly devious as you would expect.

Here's Wilhelm writing to Boris, who is a radical publisher of political tracts in our universe:

When I thought I might someday sit upon the throne, I envisioned helping Sweden transition to a constitutional monarchy. Because of this I have spent some time cultivating my opinions on democracy and the rights of the common man in Sweden. I know now that I will never influence our country as its leader. But I also know the power that words can hold. I see the way that members of the Frihet Society, the men who are keeping me captive and using my reputation to legitimize their control of the country, devour the pamphlets you publish.

This chapter uses some of the research I did on Thomas Paine, Edmund Burke, and Jeremy Bentham to form Wilhelm's philosophical stances, so if you're into the historical part of historical fiction and enjoy our author notes, I think you'll find this part especially interesting!

And you'll probably spend at least part of the chapter being annoyed at August too, as is your right.

[wangxianbaybee]

"Your flowers."

"You're welcome, I gave them to you."

[feuwise]

Homelander & Ryan's backpack

[themeraldee]

Adore how he went from 'teehee I have a surprise for you' to incredulous blinking at the blatant rejection and then to his fake bravado 'oh yeah that's totally cool, I'm so not bothered'

[homelandering]

i am sorry to say this but if i had the power to make homelander real, i would exercise it and thereby doom humanity simply to be able to hold him as he cries...

[inna-pooh]

Homelander be like: "I'll get back to mass-murdering in a sec, now I need a kiss".

[princefleabitten]

Sketches for that one Drizzt book everybody read (Legend of Drizzt: Homeland)

[scolo-evil-centipede]

Oj, svijetla majska zoro

[blindmagdalena]

The Undone and the Divine

18+ 2k lady homelander x f!reader. pwp, wlw, loss of virginity, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, pet names. written for an anonymous requester. 🖤

To kiss, to taste, to devour. Homelander is as close as the world will ever come to knowing what it's like to walk among gods. She's powerful, petulant, all consuming, and she knows exactly how to show you the pearly white gates of heaven.

Touching Homelander is akin to holding fire in your palms. It’s something that should be impossible, and yet time and time again she returns to you, her every muscle thrumming with the barely contained power of a god. There’s a ceaseless wonder to it. 

Even so, nothing could have prepared you for this. For seeing all of her. She’s radiant in her beauty, her body lithe and free of blemish. The light behind her head gives her blonde hair an angel-like glow, and the press of her lips on yours is nothing short of divine.

You’re both stripped bare on her bed, your respective clothes shed in a trail from the bedroom to her couch, where kissing became heavy petting.

The mirrors surrounding you make this feel like a shrine dedicated to the woman over you, and you whisper her name like a prayer between kisses.

“Your heart’s pounding like a drum,” she murmurs, kissing the salty-sweet sheen of sweat from your neck. “You’re all full of adrenaline. Don’t tell me you’re scared,” she says, her voice a feline purr.

“A little,” you admit breathlessly. “I’m not good with pain.”

She knows you’re inexperienced, though you’ve been purposefully vague on how inexperienced. Just thinking the word “virgin” is enough to make you cringe inwardly.

Lifting herself up to meet your gaze, she tilts her head, flaxen hair falling over her shoulder. “It’s not supposed to hurt,” she tells you, touching your lips with the pad of her thumb. “That’s a stupid lie told by stupider men. I won’t hurt you.”

You press a kiss to her thumb. “Maybe not every time, but… What about the first time?”

Understanding dawns in her eyes. You flush, averting your gaze.

“Is that how it is? Well, I’ll be damned. My sweet, pretty girl,” she croons, somehow both warm and wicked in the way she nuzzles at you, laughing softly. “My little virgin.”

“Stop,” you groan, covering your face with both hands.

“Ah, ah, there’s no hiding from me.” Homelander easily pries your hands away. She dives in to kiss you, coaxing your lips until they move with hers. 

“No shame. No fear. No pain,” she says, her palms sliding slowly down the length of your body. She settles herself between your legs, your knees hiked up over her hips. 

“Well… Unless it turns out you like a little pain.”

You bite your lip, watching her with a mix of thrill and apprehension.

“Here’s the thing, sweetheart.” Her middle finger drags a slow line down between your breasts, over your stomach, her lips softly parted in focus.

“Your hymen? It’s not a seal. It’s a liiiittle arc of tissue,” she says, voice too light and casual for the way her fingers are now traipsing down between your legs. 

“It doesn’t need to tear. It doesn’t need to bleed. Not if we take our time,” she says, eyes flickering up to your face. Her lips curl into a devious smile. “Not if we get you nice and wet.”

Your breath catches as she slides two fingers down either side of your clit, rubbing so close to where you want her to touch you most.

“It’s not just about the clit. Not about what you can stuff inside it. No one without a pussy is going to understand, but all of this”—she follows the outer curves of you, skirting your quivering cunt—“is part of the show.”

She swallows up your shuddering breath with a hungry kiss. For as long as you’ve known the taste of her lips, Homelander has been hungry. She’s a devouring force, always eager to envelope you. To hoard you for herself. 

What’s new to you now is the urgency behind her fervor, how she moves with jagged impatience even as her fingers stroke with maddening slowness.

The juxtaposition of the two is enough to have you writhing under her.

She slips her tongue into your mouth, beckons yours to move with hers.

“Touch me,” she urges, words hot and quiet between your mouths.

Your hands move to obey before you even process her words. You cup her face, push your hands into her hair, nails scraping her scalp for the way it makes her sigh in pleasure. You let your hands roam without rhyme or reason, stroking and learning every part of her.

Though her skin is satiny, the flexing muscles beneath are as coiled steel under your hands.

There’s nothing as thrilling as so viscerally feeling the strength of her in her every movement, and knowing through that just how unbelievably gently she’s handling you.

It makes your clit throb even harder, aching to be touched.

She leans over you, bracing her hand on the headboard, and you seize the opportunity to kiss her neck as she had yours, peppering kisses down her throat to her clavicle. She hums sweetly, cupping the back of your head, encouraging you with the scrape of her nails.

You suck her petal-soft skin gently at first, and then harder. You’d leave a mark on any other, but not her.

“That’s it, baby,” she sighs. “Use your teeth.”

You bite. Hard. For as gentle as she needs to be with you, you must be rougher for her to really feel you. You imagine it must be little more than a tickle for the sweet way it makes her laugh, the sound of it throaty and full of need.

“Atta girl,” she moans, tracing circles, teasing you terribly. 

You feel yourself clench around nothing, hyper aware of how empty you feel. How much you want those fingers inside you. That pulse between your legs is radiating throughout your entire body, turning every inch of you into a live wire.

“Please,” you keen, shifting, trying to angle your hips so that you might feel her where you want her most. “I’m ready, please.”

“Fuck, sweetheart. You beg pretty,” she says, leaning back. 

Her cheeks are flushed a pretty shade of pink, her hair disheveled by your hands. A lance of pride moves through you; it’s not every day a mere mortal debauches a god.

With a wicked curve to her kiss-bitten lips, she presses her thumb to your sensitive clit.

“Do it again.”

“Please!” You gasp, bucking under her touch. “Please, please, it’s so–I’m so sensitive.” 

By the time just the tip of her middle finger presses into you, the wet squelch of it is audible, even with your shuddering gasps. However, much to your dismay, she lifts her hand away.

You make a confused, indignant noise, but any further protests die on your lips as you watch her suck her two first fingers into her mouth, her scorching blue eyes dark with thirst.

She wets them thoroughly before returning her hand between your thighs, dropping back over you to kiss the faint trace of your own tangy flavor into your mouth.

“Even better than I imagined,” she says between kisses. You wrap your arms around her neck, so taken by the press of her lips that the slip of her finger catches you by surprise.

You gasp, but she hushes you.

“Don’t tense up on me now, pretty girl,” she says, her voice little more than a rasp. “Let me in.”

You nod, letting out a calming breath, fighting to let go of the tension in your body.

She focuses her attention on your neck, kissing her way down to the swell of your breasts. She nips playfully at your left nipple before taking it properly into the heat of her mouth. She gives a pleasant hum, the vibrations of her voice making you shiver with pleasure.

You push your hands into her hair, down her neck, cupping the back of her head to cradle her there, squirming between the skill of her fingers and her tongue. Her first finger slips into you with such ease, the curve of her finger pressing on your inner walls actually surprises you.

She was right. There’s no pain, just the sweet fill of her inside you.

“More,” you gasp, grinding down on her finger. “I want more.”

Though she doesn’t succumb immediately to your demand, she does distract you with the faintest scrape of teeth over your nipple. She sucks, swirls her tongue and pulls off with a wet pop only to descend upon your other breast. 

Goosebumps erupt across your body at the sudden temperature shift. You’re focused on that when she does slip a second finger in, and this time you do feel a slight ache for the stretch of it. Still, it’s nothing compared to what you had built it up to be in your mind.

It feels amazing.

“You smell so fucking good,” she all but growls, kissing and nipping her way down your torso. “I need to taste your pussy.”

She manhandles you effortlessly into position, shouldering between your legs and sinking down onto the bed. It all happens so fast that you barely have a chance to process before that same hot, velvet plush tongue is pressing against your clit.

Your whole body jerks, but she holds you in place with just one hand. Her fingers rock in and out, curling in on every deep plunge. Her mouth had felt good elsewhere, but it’s unreal between your thighs.

She laps and sucks at you, swirling her tongue in nonsensical patterns, drinking you down with abandon. The sound of it is obscene, easily heard even as you moan aloud your pleasure.

“Oh god, oh my god, god, please, I’m–” you bite your tongue, pushing and pulling at her hair before you settle on pulling her closer, losing yourself to the building crescendo of pleasure overtaking your mind and your body.

The pressure of it is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, an ache so intense that the pressure of it crawls all the way up your spine.

Your vision goes white. Your body locks up and your voice disappears somewhere far away, leaving you aware of nothing but the overwhelming release that crashes against you like the ocean against the shore.

The pleasure isn’t centralized to your clit the way it has been in the past: this orgasm spreads to the tips of your toes, your fingers, your scalp.

Homelander soothes you through it, her hand sliding up and down your inner thigh, her fingers fucking you slow and steady. She laps lazily at your clit while it throbs and throbs, nuzzling in with a pleased noise.

When you regain use of your fingers, you detangle them from her hair so that you can pet her head, the world around you still spinning.

“Oh my god,” you echo softly, the words slurred around the edge. “S’never… been like that.”

“That’s because you’ve never been fucked by me,” she says, head turned to kiss your inner thigh, her fingers motionless inside you as she savors the fading tremors of your orgasm. As if reticent to feel the loss of your warmth, she leaves her fingers where they are even as she settles next to you, slipping her other arm underneath you to pull you close.

When she kisses you now, there’s nothing faint about your flavor. It’s heady and salty-sweet, made all the better by how languidly she licks it into your mouth.

The two of you spend a long while tangled up like that, taking your time coming down from the high. When her fingers do slip free, you feel the loss of them as keenly as any other.

“Aren’t you lucky I got to you first?” She asks, smiling against your lips. “To think you could’ve had your virginity fumbled by some jackass jabbing your taint with his dry, sad–”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pressing your palm over her mouth. “Yes, yes, you’re right. And crude. Thank you.”

She takes hold of your hand and kisses your palm, nipping playfully at the meaty part just below your thumb. She nuzzles into your hand and sighs, looking every bit the proverbial cat that got the cream, her eyes falling shut.

A little sting of insecurity bites at you.

“I didn’t take care of you.”

Homelander’s eyes crack open, one of her arched brows lifting. “You want to?”

You nod eagerly.

She grins.

“Roll over.”

[arealtrashact]

What is it you hope for the ending of the Boys? What about the end for homelander?

I'm sure it will come as a shock to absolutely no one when I say that I want Homelander to live ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I get it ; there's pressure to deliver on the writer's end. An expectation to give him the death that most viewers believe he deserves. And sure, seeing him get spaghettified or be torn to pieces might be 'satisfying' in the moment but it would have zero lasting emotional impact.

I'm in the camp of fans who want him to lose his powers and spend the rest of his life in solitary confinement -- back to where he started.

But worse this time. So much worse.

[bluedalahorse]

Chapter 26 of Heart and Homeland, our Young Royals Regency AU, is now live!

Over on the palace grounds, Wilhelm reunites with Sara and forges a friendship. Meanwhile, in the city… could a new romance be blossoming? Read it all here.

A little bit of Felice today for your teaser:

The Society has a hold on Stockholm as well, not that anyone is acting like they’ve noticed. The prominent families have all returned to hosting their balls and soirées as if we hadn’t undergone a regime change a few weeks ago. So far the Elds have not received many invitations, no doubt because they are hosting me, and I suspect I have been added to one of the Society’s blacklists. When I do venture out of the house, it is with a dainty but lethal pistol in my reticule and with Fröken Meghri—that is, your Simon’s Rosh, who you have no doubt heard a great deal about—as companion. I am not the only individual who goes about guarded and accompanied as of late. I have seen many such “companions” accompanying rich men and women when I do leave the house. For the first time since my family’s ball, I have considered the degree to which we of the upper classes attempt to distract ourselves even in the midst of social turmoil.

And, if you missed it last time, don’t forget this picture Wille’s nephew drew in chapter 25…

This is the second of the nine chapters we have finished. Tune in every Sunday for the next two months for more!

[heliza24]

Chapter 32 of Heart and Homeland is now up!

Well folks, we did it! This is the last chapter @bluedalahorse and I have to post (for now!) and it's one of my favorites. After the dramatic events of last chapter, we find out Wilhelm and Sara's fate as they try to escape from Stockholm.

Not to spoil too much, but I just loved writing this scene, so have a snippet of their reunion as a teaser:

Wilhelm was deep in thought about all of this, when he felt Kalle wriggle his little hand out his grasp and take off sprinting. A jolt of panic shot through Wilhelm’s heart before he realized what Kalle was running towards. There, standing in the middle of the square, her black dress a stark contrast with the watercolor sunset behind her, was Sara.  Although at that point Wilhelm did not yet know what had brought Sara here, his hand immediately went to the inside pocket of his jacket, where he had kept the three tickets to America constantly against his breast. There was a reason he had brought her ticket after all. As he closed the gap between them, he heard Kalle exclaim that “My friend Sara has come to meet us!” Wilhelm could see the shock on Sara’s face as she registered the small and familiar child at her side. “Sara, it’s so good to see you. Would it be all right… could I hug you?” Wilhelm asked this because he didn’t know how else to convey the relief he felt, but physical affection had not been a previous part of their friendship and he knew that Sara’s relationship with touch was different than his. She nodded, and Wilhelm put his arms around her. Kalle latched himself onto both of their legs. To his surprise, he felt her lean some of her weight into his, like her legs had gone to jelly beneath her. This seemed so unlike the Sara he knew, who was so upright and calm even in the most demanding of circumstances. He knew that something must be wrong, something more complicated than simple grief at the loss of her husband.

We have one more set of chapters outlined that will wrap up the whole epic story. I can't believe we're almost done, and I can't wait to write the conclusion. So keep your eyes peeled for more chapters soon!

[peachyxxkeens]

Met Antony Starr today he was really nice :)

[fuckingpajamas]

Some heart memes for The Boys characters 🫶🏻 Enjoy my fellow lovers!!

[crianpy]

homelander in 4 albums