#h0mlander

[ofxinheritance]

we're  all  thinking  it,  i  just  said  it.

genevieve gave him a look, though not because she didn't fear him. quite the opposite. while she had enough self-control not to be the one to speak up, she certainly lacked the ability to control her expression once she heard it spoken aloud.

"you ever think there's a reason no one said it?" she queried with a raised brow. "although i'll admit, i'm quite fascinated to hear more of what everyone is thinking." she tapped the pad in front of her with her pen, the glittery pink barrel shimmering in the window light. "if i write about it, can i use that as a source, you think?" she asked. "or should i just cite, 'trust me, everyone was thinking it'?"

[hermsmulties]

❛ I’d say this a new low. ❜ the driver

The Driver shrugged his shoulders, blinking slowly, while he chewed thoughtfully on his toothpick between his lips, glancing up at Homelander. "Why don't you do something about it?" He tilted his head slightly, raising a brow.

[hermsmulties]

❛ Call my bluff. I dare you. ❜ the driver

The Driver looked up at Homelander, huffing lightly, his expressed was stoic, his mask firmly placed. "No, as much as I'd love to." He mumbled quietly, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.

[starsupe]

@h0mlander: maybe it's time for us to have another talk.

ANNIE KNOWS THAT TONE, THAT LOOK. A combination which instantly sets her on edge, an invisible force clutching around her stomach to squeeze all bile up into her throat. Doe-eyed, she meets his gaze against all instincts screaming at her to run. No, she's done running. Inhaling a deep breath, Annie musters all composure she can shake awake and tips her chin upward.

The phone in her hands stays trapped in the tight grip of white-knuckled fingers. "What exactly...", she trails off, head turning about an inch for a quasi-side eye at Homelander. "Do we have to talk about?" Valid question, you never fucking know with that madman.

[anthologicals]

"Don't say anything too emotional. It'll be uncomfortable." - for Firecracker

Psychopath Sentences, Vol. 2

sapphire  irises  are  a  glossy  pale  hue  when  she  smiles,  the  scarlet  sheen  of  her  lips  giving  off  a  reflective  shine  as  bright  as  her  pearl  white  teeth.  she's  practically  shaking,  shoulders  tensing  once  to  keep  steady,  holding  in  the  excitement  as  best  she  can  despite  his  warning.

❝   i'm  just.  .  .  so  excited,  sir-  to  introduce  you  as  our  new  god—  our  only  god—  to  the  whole  world.  for  them  all  t'see  how  special  you  are.  and  its  an  honour  t'be  here.  to  stand  next  t'you  in  your  light  and  bask  in  your  reverence.  ❞  daringly  a  hand  reaches  to  rest  upon  @h0mlander  shoulder,  grin  creased sparsely  but  still  stretched  merrily  across  her  face.  ❝  they're  all  gonna  see.  .  .  i  know  it.  ❞

[xorcists]

6,7,9 for Prism and 11,21,24 for Sovereign

Spicy Secrets: 45 Questions to Bare It All

Are you satisfied with your body, or is there one feature you’d change if you could?

❝ I consider my body to be the foundation for everything the world perceives, and wants me to be. It's always been used as a symbol, whether in my past as a dancer, or now as a female fronted supe. If I could change anything. . .It'd be my natural hair color so that it grows out platinum blonde instead of black, simply out of convenience for my professional identity.❞

Do you like dirty talk? If yes, what kind of words get you going?

❝ That's a rather precarious question, don't you think ? ❞ Lips curl with a faint breath, ❝ For me, personally. . .I can enjoy it from time to time but I much rather offer praise, teasing, and shock. For me, speech is a very intricate part of intimacy, and I tend to coddle those I'm sleeping with. ❞

Do you prefer slow, sensual sex or fast and rough?

❝ I believe there is a time and space for both. . .If I had to decide between the two it'd be the later. I participate in foreplay, and aftercare extensively with my partners, because I consider it important than the act itself. ❞

Do you like being watched, or do you prefer total privacy?

❝. . .Watched. I consider it a form of worship, and devotion if handled correctly, plus, I'm not exactly shy. . .and so there aren't any misunderstandings, I have preference for observation over consumption. There's a distinct difference. ❞

What’s your biggest turn-on that most people wouldn’t guess?

❝ I enjoy pet play under the pretense that I'm the handler. . .It requires not only obedience paired with trust, but devotion that is more intimate and instinctual than aggression. I thoroughly enjoy control that is offered willingly as well. It's far more intoxicating.❞

What’s the most sensitive part of your body that isn’t obvious?

❝ This admission is something I find. . .troublesome. However, the truth of the matter is : My ears because I'm far more reactive to intimate praise than I care to confess. . .and there's of course my navel and hips, but I believe I have already said enough.❞

[f0cksupes]

The flat becomes a panopticon in miniature. The walls, the windows, the doors, all lay open beneath the searing gaze of the Homelander. He could raze the building down to its studs, could unspool the very logic of its spatial planning on a whim, yet he has not. Between them, this caricature of amiability holds about as much structural integrity as the rust-fretted lock on the balcony door. Butcher turns the useless thing anyway. If nothing else, it keeps the evening draft from worrying at the mould chewing through the corners of the old wallpaper. ❛ Make yourself at home, why don't 'cha? ❜ Half-leaned against the counter, his voice drifts without much urgency. The dingy kitchen light washes @h0mlander out and leaves behind the cut-out silhouette of a washed-up product a good decade past its prime. Through the doorway, the telly glow bloats the room blue, turning the room corpse-coloured. The cunt should be able to hear reruns of his own voice parroting talking points ━━━ it's unfortunate Butcher has to hear him double. The ricochet grates his nerves raw, but it's worth it to hear Starlight's frilly voice cut through the blabber, maintaining the parody of co-leadership. There is a part of Butcher that enjoys imagining the fracture point. A god in a can on the Vought conveyor, a manufactured myth rendered plastic beneath the pumped-up power. The thing about idols is that they're only as powerful as the belief upholding them, and he's not looking to give Homelander that inch.

Oblivious to the gnarled irritation rattling around Butcher's skull, or purposefully obtuse to it, 𝗛𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗮𝘆𝘀, ❛ Are you gonna slam your bedroom door and sulk? ❜

❛ Bit pointless slammin' doors when you can see straight through the bloody things. ❜ A glass of brandy rests against his lips; he drinks as though it might dilute the static pressure behind his eyes, and wonders when his balcony became an airstrip. Once could be excused by spontaneity. Twice, he'll assume the bastard's bored. A third time, and it'll become a habit in need of curbing. ❛ You're stuck with me playin' host. Sorry, mate. Don't want you peepin' in my bedroom. ❜ he adds, lips curving, ❛ Rude, that. Even for you. ❜

[starliqqht]

“forget i even asked you.”

clearing out memes || @h0mlander

HOW DID THAT SAYING WENT AGAIN ? Oh, right.... keep your friends close but your enemies closer. Annie was creating more damage within by going against Homelander. Which is understandable. His beliefs, his sick need to tear down humanity- play with them like their lives meant nothing. Bullying the team and feeling superior to others made Annie nauseated. KILLING ANYONE, HUMAN OR SUPE, THAT DIDN'T AGREE WITH HIM. A. Walking. Red. Flag. Terrifying. Her heart was rapidly beating against her chest, her eyes shifting from one side to the other, deep in her thoughts. Mind is going one hundred miles per hour as her brain is rattling from ideas to the what-ifs of her planning. This is a deadly mission that could have Annie end up... dead, simple as that. But maybe... maybe...

"H-hey-" HER VOICE CRACKS. STOP. DEEP BREATH. "...sorry," Always apologetic. Annie looks down at her supe boots for a second. Breathing. Letting it roll off her shoulders. It's all on you, Starlight. A voice of her own repeating in her head. When she looks up at Homelander, her stance is confident, head held high, as she makes it clear she isn't stepping down, and she's willing to hear him out... for once. "... ask me again." The young blonde encourages him- gently. Of course. REMINDER TO ALWAYS LET HIM FEEL LIKE he has the upper hand... which he does. But for her to behave. Listen. Her hands are clasped together in front of her. "... If you want. If you want to ask me again. I- I know we've had our differences.... but.... we're still a team, right ? I mean... just... ask me again. It can't hurt."