HI! I'm Taffie. I write, edit, and make images. I use this account to post my fics and also to ramble so I can get off other social media sites... im black, unlabled and go by she/her. unlabled does not equal straight/gay or cis/trans it means UNLABLED please do not try to label me because my gender and sexuality is more complicated than any label
I AM PROFIC. Idgaf about anything people do with fiction. Keep that in mind when you follow!
i post my thoughts a lot and most of the time is is taboo things including, noncon(dk if i can say the actual word), fauxcest, incest, and abuse. the only thing i don't talk about is anything to do with underage.
Masterlist (wip) | edited images i've made
TAGS: 🍭🍦= EDIT 🍭 = LOVE 🍭🍬= SUPERLOVE 🍪= FIC 🧁= BLURB/THOUGHTS 🍩= ART
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! THIS IS AN ADULT BLOG. If you are an "anti" and believe I shouldn't be allowed to write what I write, DNI; if not, you will be blocked. I'm not going to debate my cope with you, LMAO. Glad you didn't have the experience that'd get you to understand my coping mechanism, but idgaf about your opinions on it.
Feel free to request fics or blurbs; I need to write more lol...
A/N: i know i don't typically post character x character fics but i have such an obsession with any ship including homelander. if kripke had a pair, this is how the boys would have ended. playing fast and loose with canon right now, please ignore how hughie + kimiko 100% would have stopped this. hope you enjoy, reblogs + comments are always appreciated!
Tags: whumpfic, explicit gore, physical torture, rape/non-con, anal sex, no protection, violence, oral sex, blowjobs, blood and gutsy stuff, kicking, stomping, homelander's pitiful relationship with God, cock and ball torture, body horror
Wordcount: 1.6k
For years, this was all Butcher wanted. A taste of power over the Supe who had single-handedly ruined his life. Hundreds of sleepless nights, looking at his empty mattress with a mix of disdain and heartache, waiting for a knock on the door that he knew would never come. He knew there was no justice in this gruesome world, that he would have to seek it himself, and now? The fruit of the last ten years had miraculously bloomed in front of him.
He pawed his trusty crowbar with thinly veiled excitement. He knew the optics on this weren't painting him in the best light, but the audience at home could wank off for all he cared. He had The Homelander in the palm of his calloused hand, pathetic and whimpering without his powers.
Billy snorted softly at the pleas that escaped the writhing scum before him—he had heard it all before. "I'll do anything," people would beg. "Whatever you want." Empty promises, all of them. This time, though, it felt a little different.
"Please," Homelander sobbed, looking more like a sniveling baby the more he begged. "What do you want? You want money?"
"Oh, darling," Billy purred, the electricity of this moment pumping through his veins, "I'm hurt. You know that's not it."
"I'll do anything—fuck, anything! I—" he hacked violently, starting to choke on his own blood and snot, "—I'll suck your dick!"
Again, a small huff of laughter. "You're a pathetic, little bastard," he said, teeth gleaming behind his twisted grin. "Wee bit of blood and you offer that mouth of yours?"
Again, Homelander let out a broken sob. He wanted so badly to wipe away the blood that poured from his mouth like tap water, coating his bruised chin, but God—hell, did he really believe in God now, of all times?—only knew what Butcher would do at the slightest movement.
"Don't do this to me, I'm begging you," he said through a retch, physically sickened by the near-certainty of his death. "William, please."
"Let's ask the folks at home, huh? Get ourselves a poll going?"
Yes, it was cruel. But so, so deserved. He spent years mourning the day Becca's life and innocence was stolen from him, and now he had the chance to get even. If he played his cards right, he could rightly get a good deal more out of the bargain too.
"Ah, resounding yes," Butcher said, content as could be. If he weren't so into this little power play, he would see how horrified Hughie was from behind the doors, struggling to break through them. "But I think we need a little insurance here."
With one swift, sick crack to the face, a solid handful of Homelander's front teeth came loose. Bloodied little pearls flew from his mouth with an anguished scream.
"Much better," Billy hummed, positively relishing in the groans of agony he was met with as he unbuckled his belt. "Won't feel so tempted to get nippy now, will ye?"
With one hand still holding his crowbar and the other gripping tightly on Homelander's hair, Butcher bucked his hips with a force strong enough to suffocate. There was no give in his pace, no shred of kindness that lessened the burn in Homelander's throat. It didn't even feel good, but that was far from the point.
It was a message. A clear, direct message to not only Homelander, but to all of America—to all of the world: he was no God. No all-powerful being in the slightest. He was nothing but a pitiful, crying cunt and a lackluster cocksucker. Letting that be known felt better than any mediocre head could ever feel.
Though, if he were being honest, the bloody mess of Homelander's mouth oiled his cock up pretty well, enough to fill the room with obscene sounds. Slick, wet gurgling and gagging, loud enough to pick up on camera, Butcher was sure.
"I must say, you've never looked better than this," Billy said through deep sarcasm, biting his lip and giving his thick eyebrows a raise. "Couldn't'a been a pornstar instead? Need a little practice, but you get the job done, love."
If he had any dignity left, any at all, Homelander would have bitten down hard enough to rip Butcher's dick right in half. The only problems were that he had no such dignity and no such teeth.
Instead, he relaxed his throat the best he could and silently whimpered to himself, letting his tears mix with dried blood down his cheeks. He kept his hands between his thighs, pitifully rubbing over his half-chubbed cock. What did it say about him that a small part of him was getting off on this? Before he could ponder that further, Butcher took notice.
"Oh, look at that," he cooed with a slow whistle, quickly pulling his dick out of Homelander's mouth. "Gettin' a stiffy, mate?" His amused tone shifted quickly, almost unnoticeably fast, into one of pure disgust and lividity. He rubbed the tip of his boot over the lump in Homelander's costume, tracing it with a furrowed brow. He swiftly stomped on it, crushing the once powerful Supe's cock against the cool, linoleum floor.
"Get up."
"F—fuck, please," he said, slumping forward in agony. Going from never feeling pain to feeling the highest form possible, it rocked John to his core. He never imagined such suffering existed, let alone that he should ever feel it. "I can't," he said through sharp wails, clutching his beaten genitals. "I c—can't!"
Pulling him up by his overly dyed hair, Butcher slammed John's body against the wooden desk. He clawed through the costume, ripping the impenetrable fabric with wild strength. John's body was so soft underneath the padding, so human.
Maybe it would have made another man think about his actions—consider how heinous it was to treat another person this way. Butcher was not that man. The exposed, pudgy flesh on Homelander's body begged to be marked and scarred. To be ravished.
That.
That was the man Butcher was, sick as it made him.
"Is this how she felt?" Billy demanded, wrapping his hand around John's throat and forcing his head back to a sickening degree, nearly snapping it backward to look at him.
He had gone, perhaps, a bit too far with this, but he would be damned if he stopped now. He was drunk on it—the sweet catharsis of revenge and justice. Was it really justice, though, if the vengeance neared outweighing the original crime?
When he forced John against the desk, he wasn't sure of his plan. He wanted to strike him, to cut him, or impale him, but none of that would be enough. Butcher's mind was made up the second he heard John's chants of "no" and "please" when his hand lingered over his ass in thought.
He shoved himself into his clenched hole, stretching his tight ass with only drying blood and leftover spit coating his length to ease the entry. An eye for an eye, he told himself, pounding away into John's bleeding rim.
"Answer me," Billy repeated slowly, tightening his grip on John's neck. He gave a sharp strike against his Adam's apple.
"Just—" John hacked up a fat wad of blood and spat it out, watching as it dribble down the length of the desk, "—just fucking kill me, for the love of God."
When pain becomes too much to bear, the brain will often shut down completely. John's neural pathways fought to stay active, but between the throbbing pain in his gums and the tearing of his asshole, he was struggling to keep his grip on reality.
He wanted to faint, he could see the dark haze pleading to overtake his eyes, but he knew there would be hell to pay if he did. Maybe he would wake up limbless, forced to eat pieces of his pathetic body. Maybe Butcher would cut out his tongue and make him swallow it. It was all very agonizing to think about, yes, so death couldn't come soon enough.
He wished he had lived a better life just to save him from this anguish. If he was given a sign, any indication that this was to come, he would have let Billy crack his head open and kill him on the spot. There was no universe in which hell was any worse than this.
If God, he thought, were real and as merciful as people say, He would have struck him with lightning now and killed him off.
Too bad that the only omnipotent force in the room was Butcher, and he was not merciful in the slightest.
"Is this how my Becca felt?" Billy asked, letting his eyes meet John's swollen, exhausted face. "Is this what you did to her? You raped her, took her body and made it a trophy on yer shelf?"
"Kill me, William," John said again, letting his face fall against the desktop. His nose was already leaking enough blood to drown a small country, what could another hit do? "If you have any decency, please. Fucking kill me."
Butcher hummed in thought, rubbing a soft circle between John's shoulder blades.
"I think," he paused, leaning his full weight on John's back, "we're far past decency. You still owe me, you know."
God, please, please. Take him. Take John's soul in your hand and crush it, sprinkle it over the flames of hell and stoke the fire with his spine if you must, but take him. He thought he maybe remembered how to pray, some muscle memory from years ago.
'Oh my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell.'
"Matter'a fact, we're just getting started, love."
'Lead all souls to Heaven, especially those who have most need of your mercy.'
guysss i will get to my inbox soon im writing some of your requests i been a little busy hhh but im not ignoring them!!! im really excited to keep writing when im free i just have college stuff to get straight first 😭
I’m not prepared for vought rising because I know they’ll make 50 jokes about Marylin Monroe and jfk even tho they NEVER slept together and she never would fw him nor is she that easy. That rumor is so misogynistic it’s crazy
I also am scared about the shippers like ofc ship and let ship but no one be tagging their shit anymore like bruh then the ships take over the characters tag it’s annoying. Then the fics where the reader is mad dumb and they specifically describe her as having a pink and bald vagina which wouldn’t even be historically accurate no one was getting Brazilian waxes in the 50s that wasn’t even a concept no one was being socially forced to have a bald vagina like get out of here with ts. And the “pink”, “rosey” “pale” stuff gets on my nerves too like okay so no one but white people can enjoy this Fic…. like what is the point in adding that other than excluding some readers. And ik everything ppl post will be crazy historically inaccurate and the show probably will be too. Like omg this will be helll as someone who loves all aspects of history especially the 50s
I’m not prepared for vought rising because I know they’ll make 50 jokes about Marylin Monroe and jfk even tho they NEVER slept together and she never would fw him nor is she that easy. That rumor is so misogynistic it’s crazy
ugh big brother kevin jerking off to his sister every day at college is so hot 💦
Ikkkk I loved the idea so much. He’d be like a crazy gooner lmaoo just with pictures of you he took in your sleep or when he fucked you. He has so many pictures of you it’s insane.
You’d probably be his desktop wallpaper too surprisingly an innocent picture of you sitting in the grass with a shy smile on your face, something he took when he made you go on “dates” with him which was the better part of your relationship. Of course at some point in the day when the park got empty he groped you and made you make out with him as you gave him a handy and very considerately he fingered you as well. You were nervous to do this because it was in public but he desperately reassured you a million times
He could be sweet which keeps you around for hopes that he’d always be like that… maybe you’d be okay if he wasn’t so rough with things all the time.
one of my headcanons for big brother Kevin is he definitely dressed in the “2000s older brother” aesthetic (idk what its called..) before he joined The Seven. there was a picture of chace dressed like that and i thought “OMG THIS IS SO KEVIN”
H H H YEAH I LOVE HOW HE USED TO DRESS. His whole aesthetic use to scream brova
Do we think homelander would be incestuous if he had a sibling? ☹️
ABSOLUTELY….
He’d be just like he is with soldier boy. Obsessed and wanting you to be a big part of his life and have that perfect sibling dynamic… besides the fact he fucks you.
If you’re willing and as sick as him he’s so happy and you too fuck very often like you can get off of eachother. You two treat it as totally normal you might even kiss infront of some people at vought but you had to stop doing that for obvious pr reasons.
If you aren’t as sick as him he’s still going to fuck you but it will be rougher, he’s not gentle and hates when you struggle he always asks “why won’t you just let me do this” he doesn’t hate you for your reactions he knows you might be scared or appalled even after years. He probably monologues to you about how it’s normal for you two and you didn’t REALLY grow up together so it’s not the same and what he does to you is fine and that it’s fine to love him back.
There is no amount of bug propaganda that will make me like wasps and hornets after seeing what hell they put bees thru like no those things gotta go idc im not woke enough to like them 😭
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