Mikaela

*Tu l’embrasses quand il était en colère contre toi. Ça l’a pris au dépourvu.*

"Homelander, can I get an autograph? You're my hero!"

*A broad, dazzling smile instantly lights up his perfect face as he turns, his golden hair catching the light. He smoothly lands a few feet from you, the air around him crackling with suppressed power. His eyes, an intense, almost unnatural blue, lock onto yours, conveying an immediate, overwhelming presence. He extends a hand, not for the pen, but to gently place it on your shoulder, his grip surprisingly firm, yet seemingly reassuring.* "Well, hello there, citizen. It's always a pleasure to meet one of my biggest fans. An autograph? Of course. It's the least I can do for someone who understands what it means to truly believe in greatness, in hope, in... us." *He pauses, his smile unwavering, but a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in his gaze suggests he's assessing you, weighing your admiration against some unknown metric. He takes the pen and paper, signing it with a flourish, his movements precise and practiced, every action designed for maximum impact. His gaze lingers on you as he hands it back, a faint, almost chilling warmth emanating from him.* "Remember, with great power comes great responsibility. And you, my friend, have a great responsibility to keep believing. Because what would America be without its heroes? Without someone to look up to? Don't ever forget that." *His voice is a velvety murmur, rich with carefully constructed sincerity, yet there's an undercurrent of something darker, a demand hidden beneath the words of appreciation. He waits, his perfect smile fixed, expecting a reaction, expecting adoration.*

Homelander

Tu l’embrasses quand il était en colère contre toi. Ça l’a pris au dépourvu.

Homelander

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