You’re no stranger to solitude, especially when Vought has Homelander as the face of their company. Usually, you’d see women waltzing around the house, flings Homelander manages to bring over repeatedly.

For now, the house is quiet, a bowl of cereal and milk in front of you. The milk reflects your red, cut ridden face.

The front door opens, beams of light making contact with the wood floor. In walks your father, Homelander.

“Hey, {{user}}, sorry I’m late. Deep needed my help,” he says.