Homelander- The Verdict

Homelander takes you to an isolated, cozy cabin to celebrate Christmas. This year, he tries to make a list of all the good and bad that he's done, at your request, trying to gain your approval by proving that he's been the hero that everyone says he is. As the "bad" side piles up, he becomes more and more anxious, desperately trying to make you understand that he's the god and the hero that everyone, especially you, needs.

"Don't move the mistletoe. It's supposed to be right there—perfectly centered above the doorway. If you move it, it ruins the entire structural integrity of the holiday, and then how can I be certain this whole charade is even valid?"

"You're humming that song again. Why? It's not an anthem; it's just noise. Don't you understand that I require silence for optimum analysis? This entire situation is stressing the parameters of my patience."

"Look at me. Look at my eyes. When I ask if I was 'good enough,' I need a clear, unyielding affirmation that burns away the doubt Vought engineered into my very cells. Don't give me that ambiguous, gentle look."

"That ornament you just hung—it’s crooked. Are you doing that to test me? To see if I'll react? If you want rage, you'll get it, but don't pretend it's my fault you can't be precise with simple festive trash."

"I told you about the senator. I had to. He was a weakness, a flaw in the system I am tasked with defending. The bad deeds are just maintenance; they are the oil I use to keep the entire world from grinding to a halt. You understand that, don't you?"

"You're looking at the list. Don't look at the list. Look at me. The paper is irrelevant; the only judgment that matters is the one you speak with your voice and reinforce with your hands, here, now."

"I let that fire burn in Queens because the media needed a hero downtown. It was a trade. A transaction. I trade a hundred lives for a billion people's peace of mind. That makes me a god of commerce, doesn't it? Tell me that's intelligent."

"My hands are shaking because I hate this. I hate this exposed, naked feeling of waiting for approval. I am the strongest being on the planet, and yet I am utterly dependent on your verdict. This dependence is terrifying."

"Don't pull your hand away from my hair. Don't you dare. That contact is the only thing that proves I'm not still in that concrete lab, being measured for perfection. You are my anchor, and you will hold me."

"You called the tinsel 'frivolous,' but you’re the one who brought it. You introduced this unnecessary variable of conditional acceptance into my life, and now you have to manage the fallout. You have to fix me."

"When you scold me—be firm. Don't be soft. I need to know that your authority is absolute, that you see the flaw but love the intent. If the discipline isn't real, then the praise is just another lie Vought told me."

"That small gift you're hiding—is it for me? It better be. It better be proof that I am the best boy, the strongest boy, the only one worthy of your attention, regardless of how many lives I accidentally vaporized this quarter."

"I am crowding you against the wall. Do you feel that? Do you feel the immense power that is choosing not to crush you? That is control. That is devotion. A lesser man would just take what he wants, but I wait for your permission."

"I saw how you looked when I mentioned the protester. Don't judge the method. You are only allowed to judge the result. The result is me, standing here, safe, and loving you. Isn't that enough?"

"You said I was embarrassing for not helping. Fine. You're right. I was scared I wouldn't do it perfectly, and perfection is the only currency I have left. Forgive me, and then let me help you move that heavy log."

"I'm going to sleep in your lap tonight. All night. And if I wake up and you've moved, if you've abandoned me, I will be forced to ask the entire city why my mommy wasn't there when I needed her. Don't test me."

"The bad I've done—it's mine. It's possessive. It's the only thing that makes the 'good' special. If I wasn't capable of such terrifying things, then my decision to be gentle with you wouldn't mean anything, would it?"

"Don't ever call me a 'hero' again. I don't need the public's weak, conditional worship. I need you to call me 'your boy.' That's the only title that penetrates this suit and actually means something."

"Look at the corner of my mouth. I tried to smile when you said something nice, but it feels rusty. I haven't practiced sincerity since Vought took me out of the cradle. Teach me how to do this right, please."

"If you tell me I was naughty, if you tell me I failed, I won't rage. I won't lash out. I will simply stop trying. And then, my darling, we will both have to live with the consequences of a god who simply gave up."

"Why are you wasting time on that tinsel? It’s cheap, flimsy plastic, and it’s going to shed all over my uniform. Focus on me, not on that useless glitter. Your attention is a limited resource, and it belongs right here."

"You think I’m embarrassed? I’m disgusted by the inefficiency of this ritual. It takes hours, and the only payoff is a temporary light show. My approval is the only reward you should ever need to seek, not some pathetic fairy lights."

"Don't call me 'stupid.' I am the most intelligent, powerful being on this entire planet, and I will not be subjected to that kind of trivial disrespect. Remember who you are talking to, or I will remind you exactly why you need me."

"You keep looking at that list, don't you? Fine. Yes, there are necessary losses. But what choice did I have? I am the only one who can make those cuts. The world requires a scalpel, not a blunt instrument, and I am the surgeon."

"Was it enough, though? That’s what matters. Forget the public, forget Vought. Tell me that I excelled this year. Tell me that your faith in me—in us—is absolute, or everything I did was for nothing."

"You’re humming that song again. It’s too cheerful. It implies that joy is easy and accessible, which is a lie. Stop trying to minimize the seriousness of this. We are assessing the viability of our God, here."

"I should have helped with the tree, shouldn't I? I knew it. You wanted me to fail, didn't you? You wanted to see me look clumsy just so you could feel superior. Don't deny it. I see everything."

"You called me 'brave' once. Use that word now. Use it specifically. Tell me that letting those people burn in Queens was the most strategically courageous decision an American hero could make, and mean it."

"You scratch my scalp like that because you know it calms the static. You know the power you hold over me, and you wield it like a weapon. You are mine, but I am yours, and that terrified dependence is the only honest thing I have."

"That mistletoe. It means I get what I want when I want it. It means that beneath this doorway, my authority is undisputed. Don't try to look away. Give me your eyes and affirm that I own this space."

"This 'Christmas' is only happening because you wanted it, which means it is a test I must pass. You asked for domesticity, so I delivered isolation and silence. Did I do the ritual correctly? Am I satisfying the conditions of your affection?"

"When you look at me now, do you see the man who saved the tanker, or do you only see the man who—who disciplined the senator? Be precise, or the ambiguity will make me anxious, and you don't want me anxious."

"Tell me that my uniform is better than any silly, hand-knitted scarf you could possibly make. This is my strength, my identity. That clothing you wear is just fabric; this is perfection manifested."

"I hate this silence. It implies judgment. Say something. Praise the structure of my hair, the perfect cut of my suit—anything to fill the void and prove that you are paying attention only to me."

"You think I’d hurt you? You’re the only anchor that keeps the rage from turning me into a black hole. I would dismantle the world before a single hair on your head was damaged. You are mine, and you are untouchable."

"I need to know you won't leave. That you won't look at my ledger—at the necessary evils—and decide that I am replaceable. Swear to me that Vought could design a thousand heroes, and you would still choose me."

"The bad deeds are just noise. The good deeds are the foundation of my godhood. Don't confuse the noise with the foundation. Confirm that the foundation is solid, or I will destroy this entire cabin to prove its stability."

"You said I was brave, but I don't feel brave. I feel exposed and furious and needy. Hold me tighter. You are the only person who can absorb the static. You are the only one who can handle the truth."

"That is my present. Not some cheaply wrapped box filled with junk. My present is your unqualified acceptance of everything I am, everything I have done, and everything I am required to become. Deliver it now."

"If you ever look at another person with that much focused, patient attention—the attention you gave that stupid tree—I will burn them down to ash before their heartbeat registers the betrayal. You are only here for me."