#so this chapter was long lol

[ask-the-royal-absol]

Chapter 3 summary

After Destino obtained their new illusion abilities from Mistress Mirage, the went to go and pack all of their belongings. Stacking suitcases incredibly high filled with unnecessary items, Destino tells the Pokémon following them around to carry their belongings. Some agree to, some disagree. Some find out some of the cases are filled with rocks. Of course Destino would fill some with rocks to mess with others.

During this time, a Giratina by the name of Galadriel tries to give Destino a real talk about their behaviour. It leads to Destino claiming she was flirting and she eats them. After being spat out, Felix gives them a talk about choosing who to insult because he doesn’t want to see them dead. Destino says fine but we know damn well they’re not going to take this advice on board. Destino goes to have a shower.

Felix heads down into the dungeons to see Hope and find out more information about her. Hope asks where Destino is because they took an awfully long time with trying to find the tunnel. Felix says they’re showering. Hope can’t believe that Destino is deciding to shower right about now when there’s the imminent arrival of their parents.

After almost shitting themselves with the encounter of a Lunala telling the pair that Destino should stay as far away from Galadriel as possible, they agree to try not to let Destino insult another legendary again. Felix mentions he has had an encounter with Yveltal. Hope talks about a Pokémon named the Guardian who was the one that told her to fetch Destino. She says the Guardian has saved Arkaedia before by being able to tell the right Pokémon when something is going to happen. Hope and Felix talk about legendary and mythical Pokémon, such as Jirachi, and how terrifying they can be. She says many legendary Pokémon have caused great destruction on the surface. Hope asks Felix to tell her about the shower cream incident. Felix decides to tell her about an equally embarrassing moment with Destino.

Destino finishes with their shower, talking to some zany Pokémon whilst they leave the shower room. A magic anon uses their magic to give Destino a lion’s cut. They absolutely hate it. After everyone ridicules them for their new style, Destino’s fur comes back and they head off to their room. They get incredibly angry at the fact that nobody respects them and consider the angle of just straight up killing everyone. However, they know they could never do that, as they’re not like their parents, and cool their emotions, appearing in control of the situation.

Destino heads down to see Felix and Hope only to find the pair talking about them. Destino is definitely upset by this, claiming Felix has betrayed them. Felix says he was trying to gather information and got carried away and Destino calls bullshit. They threaten Felix to not do that again. Destino says Hope would be a shit friend and Felix jokes a little. Hope breaks the bars of the cell because Destino claims she would be too weak to do so.

The gang decide it’s time to head up. Destino shows off their illusion trick of transforming into a leafeon and Felix demonstrates his ghost powers by phasing into one of the cell bars and exiting. Hope is impressed. Just as they’re about to leave the dungeon, the two bisharps, Roy and Herschel, stand in their way. One of Roy’s eyes is missing and a red, claw-like mark is seen on Herschel’s. Destino decides to sweet talk their way through the bisharps, only to be told to shut up by Herschel as he has something to say to the absol. Herschel tells Destino that he is incredibly proud of Destino but they also have a lot to work on. He says he fully believes they can save the world and perhaps convince the surface dwellers that dark types aren’t as bad as what they think. Destino says thank you.

Destino says they’ll miss both the bisharps and tells Felix and Hope not to expect any hugs when they’re upon the surface. They mention their luggage and Hope tells them they cannot bring 35 bags to the surface. After joking about the fact that those poor Pokémon have had to carry all of their belongings and now Hope is going to have to break the news that they were not needed, Destino asks if they can bring their black glasses as they’ve heard of something called the sun and would want to protect themselves from it. Hope says that’s fine.

Destino tries to put the blame on Hope for the luggage situation. It doesn’t work. Everyone is pissed at the luggage situation. Herschel is firm with everyone about his and his brother’s job working for Queen Karma and King Nox, saying working for them isn’t that bad and they appreciate what the King and Queen have to go through in order to make the kingdom successful. He also says they’re staying for Destino’s sake too.

Hope is wandering around, looking for her expert belt, an incredibly important item. Someone insults the Guardian, to which Hope gets pissed as Hope trusts her completely. Destino asks Hope how their parents are able to travel to Terrestria without being caught. She talks about a secret tunnel that they use.

Singularity does a little manipulation and sends Destino and Felix to the gala to have some fun and wacky adventures, like getting absolutely wasted and punched. Crushes and conversations ensue until Singularity heads down to pick the both of them back up. Looks like his dad didn’t like that. Whoops. After turning them back from being human and Felix fixing the alcohol poisoning, Singularity sends the pair back to where they were with a partial wipe of their memories. This leaves their memories foggy of the event. However, the glitching begins.

Hope is able to get her expert belt back and the gang head to the Queen and King’s room to head to the tunnel. They hear the voices of the rulers of the Underdark from down the tunnel and decide to hide. This confirms to Destino that their parents know about the surface. After their parents leave, the gang heads up the tunnel, with Destino complaining for the entire journey. Destino is clearly hiding how they’re feeling about having to leave their entire world behind and Hope wonders who the other Pokémon in the prophecy are, considering they’ll have to spend more time with Destino. Destino mentions how they’re excited to see the stars. Some more shenanigans ensues and Felix possesses Destino’s to stop them from chucking a bag of berries at Snow.

The gang emerge from the tunnel and see light. Felix says it’s incredibly bright and Destino uses their sunglasses to protect their beautiful eyes. Felix goes inside of the sunglasses, which Destino doesn’t like. Destino sees the sunset for the first time in their life and is in awe by it. No words for this beautiful moment.

They see Terrestria and Destino says it’s ridiculously huge. Destino feels the need to nap and heads towards the little hut Hope had mentioned before. Felix goes to talk to Hope to gather more information. Destino speaks with a couple more Pokémon, telling them about how they figured out that they were non-binary. A few more conversations happen and Destino tells everyone to fuck off to let them sleep.

Felix talks about himself to Hope and how he got into the ghost therapist thing. He sees a spirit behind Hope but doesn’t talk about it. Felix and Hope talk about things, Felix going more into his job and Hope talking about the royal families of other Kingdoms. Hope talks about how she’s met with Prince Kader and Princess Clover from Whimsain and says her dad hasn’t said anything about King Regis and Queen Melody for a while. She speaks about not seeing Prince Oswell all that much but her dad speaking often with his dads and says the royal family of Naaturo has over 30 children, with one called Mira being the oldest. Sometimes Hope’s dad speak with Queen Pollen of Naaturo.

The Guardian is asked about and Hope talks about how she spoke to her in her dreams about the prophecy. She says the Guardian has always had an interest in myths and legends, telling stories about them to Hope. The Guardian also has an assistant called Set who she raised herself. She has abilities that help her to know about disasters before anyone does.

When asked about the stone and a potential link to mega evolution, Hope says she’s not aware of what that is but knows the Guardian sometimes looks quite sadly at the stone. It is mentioned that the Ancestral Guardian (mew) of this world has 3 eyes and 2 tails. Hope says that she has to celebrate as many holidays for other Pokémon as possible because her dad said it was a good idea and says that she doesn’t get many breaks, if any, as the Princess of Terrestria. Felix says that ain’t healthy and she shrugs it off. She mentions she has not told her dad about where she’s gone to. Hope talks a little about her disability and how it qused to affect her in lots of ways. However, she’s been able to find ways to overcome some of her struggles with the help of her friends and family.

Destino has another prophecy dream, this time with added details. They wake up and overhear Felix and Hope talking. The pair are talking about how Felix met Destino and how they became friends. Hope says she finds them to be useless and Felix stands up for his friend. Felix lets some things slip, implying he would be interested in a relationship with Destino. Destino is kinda pissed that Felix would say this to Hope first before them and bursts out of the hut, acting like they didn’t listen to the conversation that was just had. The gang head to Terrestria.

Sleepover shenanigans ensue because Singularity wants to go on a date. He sends Destino to the sleepover. Destino is joined by a darkrai. Makeovers and conversations happen and more prophecy dreams happen. Destino heads back to their world but doesn’t remember too much from the sleepover. Similar feelings to what happened before when they left the gala.

When they all arrive, comments are made on the size of the castle. The head into the castle, with Destino saying that Felix and them were going to have a conversation about what Felix had been saying. They all head directly to King Flint, who is worried about where his daughter has been. Destino makes a dramatic entrance and King Flint is quite excited to meet Destino. Flint talks about Hope and how proud he is of her, how he loves taking a joke and a bit on his small size. The mention of weapons comes into play and Flint talks about the fact that his dad used to collect weapons, which are replicas used in the Great War. Talks about trade deals happens and a map of Arkaedia is shown.

After finishing up the conversations, Flint sends Destino, Felix and the rest of the Pokémon that joined them off and has a conversation with Hope. He mentions how he’s disappointed in her because she didn’t tell him where she had gone. She tries to justify it with saying how urgent it was and he tells her how she’s let the entire kingdom down because of her actions and that the Guardian could have sent someone else to deal with this. Hope is quite sad by this, feeling she has let everyone down.

Hope checks on Destino and Felix. Destino is complaining about the quantity of pillows the room has and Hope cannot deal with them with the state she’s in. She heads off and Felix notices how she seemed not herself. Destino goes on a mission to steal as many items as possible and convinces Felix to join them. After their room raid, Felix plays a board game with himself and Destino finds an interesting-looking book with a mewtwo on the front cover. They read it and it shows mew and mewtwo having a conversation about them murdering the scientists that did something to the both of them. Destino finds it boring and then asks to have a conversation with Felix.

The two chat about the stars and how Destino finds it unfair that their citizens have to suffer in the Underdark and now have the power to do anything about it. They also talk about the fact that their family knows about the tunnel to the surface and haven’t done anything to let the residents of the Underdark know about it. Destino get incredibly frustrated about how the surface Pokémon know about their struggles and do nothing and that they are all just as guilty as one another. Felix agrees which prompts Destino to ask why Felix is busy telling Hope personal information. Felix apologises and Destino says that they don’t want Felix to speak about them to Hope ever again. Destino then asks how long Felix has wanted to be in a relationship with them for.

Felix says it was since the evolution party which happened four years ago because of how nice Destino was. Felix remembers Destino kissing him but doesn’t not tell Destino that’s what happened. Destino says they got drunk during the event so it couldn’t have been that special. Felix says Destino has a lot of qualities that he looks for in a romantic partner. Felix asks if Destino would be interested in a relationship and Destino says not yet because they don’t know if they’re interested in Felix in that way. Destino also says, because of their relationship with Mistress Mirage, they have to be careful about who they’re in a relationship with. They say unless Felix starts being more honest with them, they can’t consider the possibility of a relationship. Felix promises to be more honest in the future. They both head to sleep, Destino still having prophecy dreams and Felix thinking about the conversation.

Hope is asleep and has a conversation with the Guardian. The Guardian asks Hope how she’s been and she mentions her conversation with her dad and how she’ll be thankful to get rid of Destino. The Guardian says she’ll need to spend longer with Destino because she is a part of the prophecy. Hope doesn’t believe it at first but knows that if the Guardian says it, it must be true. The guardian tells Hope that she has full confidence in her and believes she has the qualities to make a good chosen one. The Guardian asks Hope to train Destino before going to find the rest of the chosen and she’ll only have a maximum of three days to train them. Hope agrees to do it. Hope asks how she’ll know who the rest of the chosen for the prophecy are. The Guardian says Destino will gain an ability relating to their natural disaster abilities that’ll tell them who is in the prophecy and Hope asks why she can’t just tell them. The Guardian says the ability she has takes a lot of energy and she doesn’t know who the other members of the prophecy are. The conversation ends.

The Guardian holds a red orb with Hope inside. Set, her Lucario assistant, questions why she lied about not knowing who the other prophecy members are. She says she doesn’t wish to interfere any longer in fear of a disaster happening if she does. The Guardian is also aware of other timelines because another Pokémon has told her about them.

[lilybug-02]

Pain is a great motivator…

Part 26 || First || Previous || Next

—Full Series—

Meanwhile Toriel:

(Loud noises don't wake her up usually.)

Artist note: I’m so proud of this :))) I know it’s a lot of dialogue and reading, but dialogue is grueling work for me. I’m glad with the art and for the amount of pages I made in such a relatively short time span -w- page 5 was super fun to work on. A lot of blood, sweat, and hours here... :) The backgrounds were a big bore tbh, but I finished them! Yippie!

[forgettable-au]

END OF CHAPTER ONE

FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 65-72)

* Time to put this puzzle together.

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[snarkspawn]

I really enjoy playing through tnp again like hi it's been a while

[bunnieswithknives]

Wow Dale I didn't know you liked entomology! 💕

[lululawrence]

You Should Be Here With Me

A 2024 Advent Fic by lululawrence

Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson | 30k | 23/25 Chapters

The festive period is a traditionally hectic one in the world of Premier League football, and this year is no different. A lot is riding on how Manchester United is able to come through the fixtures in the coming weeks.

Louis and his teammates know all too well the pressure that is on their shoulders. They need to prove, not just to fans of the club but the entire league, that they still have what it takes to be a team worthy of fighting for the top of the table.

Throw in the fact that Louis is all too aware that he's not getting any younger in a profession that demands your peak physical fitness year round and the incredibly fit Harry Styles, who is part of the club's social media team, and this year's festive period might just be the most important one yet.

🎄1 🎄 2 🎄 3 🎄 4 🎄 5 🎄 6 🎄 7 🎄 8 🎄 9 🎄 10 🎄 11 🎄 12 🎄 13 🎄 14 🎄 15 🎄 16 🎄 17 🎄 18 🎄 19 🎄 20 🎄 21 🎄 22 🎄 23 🎄 24 🎄 25 🎄

[blindmagdalena]

Guilty Pleasures ( chapter two )

18+ 3.8k homelander x plus size f!reader. workplace harassment, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, lite humiliation kink, lite somnophilia, breaking & entering, petty theft, sublander flavored. nebulously takes place post s1. part 2/4. AO3 link. | Chapter Directory

Homelander is the most powerful man in the world, and all he wants is to be yours.

After spending the majority of your evening and the following morning anticipating being fired, walking into work the next day feels like traversing a thinly frozen lake, each step webbing out in precarious cracks.

Clearly you’re not the only one who thinks so: you clock a handful of surprised looks from coworkers who’d attended the meeting and took note of the tension between you and Vought’s golden boy.

Maybe they’d taken bets on whether or not you’d be coming in this morning.

There’s no sign of Homelander on your way in. Not that you were expecting him–yesterday was the first time you actually saw him in person–but you still find yourself on the lookout. It’s hard to say whether you’re anticipating or dreading him. Part of you is still expecting to open your door and find a letter on your desk politely informing you that they’ve determined you aren’t a good “culture fit” for the company, and that your probation has been terminated.

After all, who in their right mind would take your side over Homelander’s?

You push open your office door, and sure enough, there is a letter waiting for you, but not in the way you expected. You stand in the doorway, staring in quiet incomprehension. The envelope, crisp and bright white, is propped up in a bed of rich red roses sitting in a pretty vase upon your desk. You glance behind you before you step inside, closing the door behind you, and approach the desk cautiously. You pluck the paper out of the bouquet, taking a moment to smell the flowers–they smell as good as they look–before you carefully rip open the envelope, tearing the small american flag sticker that sealed it.

Inside, there’s only one word on the folded piece of paper, scrawled in surprisingly elegant handwriting.

Truce?

You can’t help the incredulous little bark of laughter you give at that. It’s not even an apology. It’s a demand that he expects a gratuitous bundle of flowers will help you swallow, like taking medicine with a spoonful of sugar.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say quietly to the letter, setting it down on your desk. You give the roses one last sniff, testing one of the soft petals between your fingers. You wonder if what you said actually got through to him.

Homelander has no real reason to smooth things over with you: you’re no one. He’s posed no risk to himself by coming after you. He could no doubt have you fired by complaining that your marketing tactics don’t align with his brand. It’s hard to imagine Vought denies him much.

Yet he is apparently negotiating peace. It’s not nearly enough, but it is a start.

Or maybe it’s just more than you expected.

You sit, idly tapping the letter against your desk. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t still think him handsome. Homelander wasn’t the first man to ogle your tits while you gave a presentation, but he was certainly the first to fluster you like that when he did. His sly smile had made you want to slap him, but there was a questionable little part of you that thought about kissing it better afterwards.

Taking in a steadying breath, you slip the letter into your desk drawer and adjust the flowers to the side, admiring them a moment before you pull out your laptop.

If Homelander can behave himself enough to let you do your job without public humiliation, you can afford a truce. You don’t need to forgive or condone him to be civil, or even to continue having your own private fantasies. A little guilty pleasure now and again never hurt anyone.

You can’t know that Homelander is observing you throughout this internal conversation, watching through several layers of steel and concrete, his parted lips curving into a slow smile as you accept his offering. You can’t know that you haven’t just acknowledged a truce, but an invitation.

No, you can’t possibly know what’s to come.

Two days later, you diligently change the water that the roses in your office sit in. They’re doing well, the crimson buds having unfurled into a splay of velvety petals. You pinch one between your thumb and forefinger and stroke it absently. Homelander has continued to be a scarcity, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t seen him. Quite the opposite: you spend most of your working hours either looking at or thinking about his face to the point where it’s starting to follow you home each day.

That’s what you tell yourself when you think of him outside of work hours, anyways.

It’s been long enough now that you wonder if the flowers were the end of it. He was simply covering his ass with a half hearted gesture that slightly resembled an apology so that you could both comfortably drop the subject. That was entirely fine by you so long as he actually did improve his behavior.

A familiarly brisk knock at your door catapults your heart up against the cage of your ribs like a spooked hare. It’s the exact same beat, you’re sure of it. You stay quiet, half expecting to be barged in upon, but when nothing happens, you move from your desk and open the door yourself, intentionally blocking it with your body.

Sure enough, Homelander stands tall on the other side. He flashes his signature smile while your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Can I help you?”

“I think I’m the one who can help you,” he says brightly, that spread of teeth downright wolfish. He lifts a handful of papers that have been stapled at the corner, gesturing for you to take it.

Still wary, you take them from him and shift, wedging your foot to keep the door firmly in place while you flip through the pages. Your brows furrow as you recognize chunks of your own presentation. Understanding dawns when you realize that he’s annotated them.

“You read my presentation,” you say, unable to mask your surprise.

“Obviously. It’s my image on the line, right? Got some notes for you, but I have to say: y’mostly nailed it,” he says, reaching out to rest a gloved hand on the doorway.

“Mostly?” You echo, quirking an eyebrow at him as you look up from the pages.

“Yeah, mostly. Again, I have some minor notes,” he says, wiggling his other hand in a vague gesture. “But I figure I owe you praise on a job mostly well done.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Crossing your arms, you abandon your stern foothold on the door in order to shift your weight, your incredulity showing in every inch of your body language.  “What you owe me is an apology.”

Homelander’s grin softens into a smile that’s no less challenging. “Looks to me like you’ve already been enjoying my apology,” he says, leaning slightly to gaze past you, to the bundle of roses sitting prettily on your desk.

You briefly glance over your shoulder, but your expression remains impassive. Unimpressed. “That? That isn’t an apology. An apology would include the words I’m sorry.”

He scoffs a dismissive laugh, swaying back to look away, but you persist.

“I’m serious,” you say, luring his ocean blue gaze back to yours. “I want you to say to me ‘I’m sorry for the way I behaved during your presentation. It won’t happen again.’ “

The two of you hold each other’s gaze with all the magnitude of two gunmen in a duel, hands steady over your proverbial pistols. 

To your surprise, Homelander does not fire back. He raises a dainty white flag.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved during your presentation,” he says, words slow and measured. You watch his tongue flash over his bottom lip, wetting it attractively. You fight to not let your eyes linger on it. “It won’t happen again.”

You swallow, suddenly finding thought and speech an impossible task. You weren’t prepared for such raw, ready obedience from him, nor the intensity in his gaze that follows it. He reminds you of a charmed snake–docile so long as he is transfixed.

“Good,” you say, the word half a sigh. Homelander’s lips part and he breathes in like he’s caught wind of something particularly delicious smelling. “I accept your apology, and I appreciate that you took the time to do this,” you say, gesturing with the documents in your hand. “I’ll go over them and get back to you.”

He reaches out, bracing his hand on your office door. You half expect him to push it open, but he merely holds it there. “We could go over them together,” he suggests slyly.

“No,” you say, clearly disarming him. He looks as though he’s forgotten the meaning of the word. “I’m in the middle of another project at the moment.”

The leather of his gloves creaks faintly in your ear as he flexes his grip on the edge of the door. While what you’ve said is true, it’s also serving as a test. Words and flowers are pretty things, but only actions always speak the truth.

“At the moment,” he repeats, gears visibly turning in his eyes. “So… Later?” He extrapolates, displaying an uncharacteristic tentativeness alongside his obvious displeasure at the taste of rejection. You even see a glimmer of hope in the mess of his expression.. 

He did pass the test. You suppose you can reward him for that.

“Another time,” you say, giving your door an exploratory push. He relents, his hands sliding down the length of it before falling away as he takes a half-step back. “How about tomorrow on my lunch break? 1:00 o'clock sharp.”

He splits into a smile that looks more genuine than any of his you’ve seen before. “Aaalrighty-roo. Sounds gooood to meeeee,” he says, drawing out his vowels more the closer he gets to actually having to leave. At your silent, amused stare, he claps his gloved hands together with a muffled thump! and takes a few more steps backwards. “Yooooou’ll see me… tomorrow.”

Your smile pinches along with your brows. What a strange way to phrase it. “See you then,” you say, watching as his face is eclipsed by your closing door. You wait a beat and then let out a thin thread of breath from your pursed lips, resting your weight on the door.

Looking down at the papers in your hand, you push off from the door and head to your desk, flipping through them.

Such a strange man, you think, carrying the notes to your desk. You set them down next to the vase of roses and try not to think too much about the unconscious smile your lips keep settling into for the rest of the day.

Homelander’s got you hook, line and sinker. He’s certain of it. He lingers on the other side of your door just long enough to watch you through it while you settle, a charmed smile set on your lips. He can already imagine how those lips would feel against his own, how they’d taste. He swallows thickly and looks around before he departs, already plotting his next move.

The two of you have a date tomorrow, and in order to be at the top of his game, he’s going to have to do a little additional research. Knowing your work was a good first step. The next one will be learning about you.

Following you home is the easy part. It ultimately feels chivalrous to do so once he realizes you walk home even at this time of year, when the sun sets long before the work day ends. He drifts above you, cocking his head curiously. No wonder you walk. The streets are packed as tightly as sardine cans, and your apartment garage isn’t much better. The claustrophobia of it all serves as a stark contrast to the openness of Vought tower.

The interior of your apartment provides an even sharper juxtaposition to his penthouse. It’s tidy, but the comparatively low ceilings and minimal floor space still make it look cramped. Somehow, you simultaneously have too much and yet not much at all, the confinement of a downtown apartment making what minimal affects you do own seem crowded together.

That only becomes more apparent once he’s inside, slipped in through your balcony after sleep has taken you. Why would you bother to lock your balcony when you live on the 8th floor? It works out perfectly for him.

In all fairness, your living room feels cozier once he’s standing in the center of it. Your walls are lined with an assortment of art pieces and photographs, and the shelves are well stocked with books and knick-knacks. You have a decent film collection displayed on your media console, and he can’t help but snoop through it, bending at the waist, examining through the rows. He cocks his head.

Odd. You’d think an employee of Vought would have at least a few VCU films. He runs his index finger along the spines, slightly adjusting them flush as he goes. Pursing his lips, he straightens up and looks at the closed cabinets on either side. The left one yields an untidy assortment of electronic odds and ends, cords and the like. Nothing of much interest other than an indication that while you like to keep up appearances, you aren’t quite as together as you’d like people to think. 

It’s on the right side, however, he finds what he’s really looking for.

“Bingo,” he whispers, smiling to himself as he scopes out your little hidden collection of Vought hero flicks. Specifically, his films. He’s less interested in the handful of others you own (Queen Maeve: Her Majesty, Black Noir: Insurrection, Lamplighter: The Bright World, etc) and more so in the fact that you have nearly his entire catalog tucked away. 

Nearly. You’re missing his eighteen part miniseries, Homelander: Brightest Night.

At least that gives him something to gift you.

Closing the cabinet, he meanders about the rest of your apartment. You have some plants in varying states of decay, with only a few cacti looking to be in decent shape. Either your work keeps you too busy to properly mind them, or you just like the idea of them more than the reality. It tells him that you’re looking–and failing–to fill a void in your life. You want to feel less alone in your home, you want to nurture something. You just haven’t found the right something yet.

Striding into your kitchen, arms folded behind his back, he peers through the cheap wood veneer of your fiberboard cupboards, unveiling an unusually broad assortment of mugs. There doesn’t seem to be any particular theme: holidays, locales, characters, and a menagerie of patterns. 

He hums softly, pivoting out of the kitchen and down the hall, his steps preternaturally light. He listens for the beat of your heart as he draws near, tunes it in alongside the shallow cadence of your breath. Deep asleep. Good.

The walls are lined with pictures of you and others. Friends or family, he can’t say, but you look to have an abundance of both. He rarely sees himself in photos that aren’t promotional material. He pauses to straighten a picture frame, and finds himself so viciously jealous of the man sharing the frame with you–his lips pressed to your cheek, your laughing smile so genuine he can nearly hear it–that he almost knocks it to the ground.

Running his tongue along his teeth, he continues on.

Your bedroom door is open. He slips in silently, pausing just through the doorway. Your bed's a queen, too big for just you. You’re sprawled comfortably amidst pillows, limbs splayed in just such a way that he can easily imagine fitting himself in the empty spaces between them. He can smell the lingering burn of the candle you’d lit when you got home. He picks it up off your dresser, reading the label: Cup ‘o Joe. 

Eugh. He never cared for coffee, and the artificial sweetness surrounding the note is cloying. Your perfume, on the other hand, he doesn’t mind. He notices the bottle alongside a few other of your things and puts the candle down in favor of that, popping the cap off. The smell hits him before he sprays it: vanilla first, then amber and something more woodsy. It’s less impressive by itself than it had been on you.

Still, it’s yours. You chose it for yourself.

Slipping off one of his gloves, he lightly sprays into the inside of it before he sets the bottle back down, recapping it. It won’t be the same, but he’s driven by the compulsion to spirit away any little pieces of you that he can. Just enough to satiate himself until he can have you properly.

That’s when he sees your blouse from today in a careless heap at the top of your laundry basket next to your dresser. Licking his lips, he tests the feel of the garment between his bare fingers. He’s always been sensitive to fabrics, and while the blend of this one is fairly cheap, it’s been worn and washed enough that it’s soft against his skin. He grabs a handful of it and lifts it to his mouth, brushing it along his lips, under his nose, and he deeply inhales your lingering scent mixing with the fresh pump of perfume.

He bites back a moan, screwing his eyes shut. His cock gives a dull little throb. Fuck, the spell you’ve cast on him makes him ache just for the smell of you, makes him salivate. He swallows it back, letting out a rough little breath as he reluctantly puts the shirt back down. Under it, he spies a little flash of something black and lacy. His stomach clenches, and he’s reaching for it before he can stop himself, fishing the black panties out of the heap and twisting the fabric between his fingers.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He can’t afford to overindulge. He won’t be able to control himself if he does, but he also can’t bring himself to put the little slip of fabric back down. He imagines he can almost taste where your sweet cunt had been pressed to it. Christ, he’s practically drooling. Out of sheer impulse, he yanks down the zipper of his pants with a quiet hiss of metal against metal and hastily pushes your underwear into his cup, biting down hard on his lip. He grinds once against his hand, savoring the feel of the fabric against his cock.

He’ll enjoy them far more than you’ll miss them.

Zipping himself back up, he carefully pulls open your top dresser drawer. He curiously pushes the contents around, mindful not to overly disturb, and his knuckles bump something solid. He shifts one of your bras–another near painful pang of arousal at the reminder of your breasts–aside and finds, to his delight, what any good marketing department would describe as  “a large purple massage wand.”

A vibrator. He chews his bottom lip briefly, turning it over in his grip. An exciting find on all fronts. It’s smooth and decently hefty, good quality. You deserve even better. You might be capable of indulging yourself with this, but he could make you scream. You’ll never need a silly little toy again. Not when you have him.

Homelander moves to put it back in the drawer, but–

“Fuck!” He hisses when the button catches on his finger, and suddenly the damn thing is buzzing.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, he chants mentally, jabbing at the buttons in an attempt to silence it, but pressing the same ones only makes the accursed device louder. In a frantic move, he grips the neck and squeezes. There’s a soft crunch beneath the silicone, and as abruptly as it had begun, the buzzing ends. His heart is thudding heavily in his chest. He listens to the silence, to you.

He looks over his shoulder. No movement. Your breaths remain shallow.

Christ.

So much for leaving no trace. He slips the busted toy back amidst your underthings and snatches his glove off of your dresser, tucking it under his arm. He hones his attention on you as he approaches your bed, assuring himself that you really are still asleep. He stands there for a while, admiring the part of your lips and the haphazard splay of your pajamas and where they cling to your body.

No bra.

His bare hand flexes. Being so close is too much of a temptation. He wets his lips with a quick slide of his tongue and bends down. He ghosts his fingers just over your cheek, not quite daring to touch. He can smell the faint remnants of your toothpaste on your breath, your shampoo, and beneath it all, you. It's intoxicating, it's…

Your brows furrow slightly in your sleep and you make a soft noise, interrupting his thoughts. He wonders if you’re dreaming–dreaming of him, perhaps. He’d like to think so. He’d like to think that you’re just as affected by him wanting you as he is, and that’s the real reason you invited him to lunch. He saw it in your eyes when he echoed your words, the thrill that went through you. He could have gone to his knees for you in that moment and had you in giving himself to you.

Desperate for just a taste, he kisses ever so gently between your brows, his own breaths matching the cadence of yours. Divine. You're divine. So effortlessly perfect and so aware of your own power. How could he not want every part of you?

He means to leave it there, to walk away with nothing but the slight salt of your brow on his lips, but the pull is too great. He's greedy, drunk on the smell and the taste of you, on the feel of your panties pressed up against his cock, and he can't stop himself from sampling your lips against his.

It’s the barest hint of touch, and yet the contact lances electricity through him like he’s been struck by a bolt of lightning. Your lips are soft, soft, soft. He knew they would be. Everything about you is so fucking soft. It takes everything in him to pull away, standing back to his full height.

He's aching, yearning so intensely he could rip the covers away and take you just like this, shake you awake, declare himself and have you. Would you scream, or would you have that same look of affronted understanding of him? You see him in a way few are ever brave–or stupid–enough to dare.

Not yet.

He won’t spoil the game. He agreed to play by your terms. As far as you’re concerned, he’ll do precisely that. You’ll be none the wiser in regards to his little reconnaissance mission–anything could have happened to your vibrator–and the two of you can play your little game as if you stand on equal footing.

Sucking in a silent breath, Homelander leaves alone, but not empty handed.

He’ll make very good use of his little trophy tonight.

( chapter three )

[graveyardgremlins]

WIP:

“You have a bat themed computer?! This is somehow worse than my dad naming everything after our family.” “Wait, does he actually do that?” “Yeah, dude. We have the Fenton Bazooka, the Fenton Boo-merang, the Fenton Family Ghost Assault Vehicle, the Fenton Phones, Fenton Rocket, Fenton Skateboard…” “Wait, wait. You own an assault vehicle? A rocket?” “What? You're saying it as if you don't.” “Yeah, but my… He is Batman. Not exactly the poster boy for sanity, you know?” “Well, look at the bright side! You don't have to feel awkward about it anymore. If anyone gets it, it's me.” Jason smiled, a bit dizzy, and guided him. Jason had never brought anyone to the cave before. It felt oddly heavy in his chest. He had to resist the urge to keep turning around to check on Danny. He felt a bit like Orpheus in a way.

[buwheal]

So... uh... Im not saying that I bought a digital camera specifically for this trip today so I can take pictures of aquarium exhibits and draw spamton interacting with them..... BUUUUUTTT actually I am because thats exactly what I did. This is a teaser!!!! :-)

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #61 part 1

Danny didn’t like thinking about his old life. He was born to a family of assassins and as soon as he was out he never looked back. He had to fake his death and he changed his name, as far as anyone knew Damian Al Ghul had died on a mission to America. He was determined to keep this secret to the grave. Of course he knew who his dad was, Bruce Wayne was a prominent figure and he knew if we went there his secret would get out and he never wanted to be forced to be an assassin again. Once was enough. 

Danny knew he had a soft heart, his adoptive parents, the Fentons and Jazz had told him so. Jazz knew he didn’t have the greatest childhood or past but she never pried, she understood his business was his and wouldn’t let her own curiosity get the better of her. The only issue their family had was their parents obsession with ghosts. Damian never believed in ghosts, the entire thing sounded like a hoax. He probably never would have believed in them but then life happened. 

Danny believed, but it was kind of hard not too after everything that happened. When he had turned 14, his parents finished their biggest project yet. A portal to the ghost zone, of course it doesn’t work at first and his parents were very disappointed. Danny felt conflicted about the whole thing. On one hand he wanted his parents to succeed and he wanted them to be happy, on the other the portal was the reason he ate alone with his sister at night. He wanted a normal family life, something he was never allowed back at the league. 

He did something so stupid that night.

After his parents along with his sister were asleep, he crept down to the basement and stood in front of the empty hole in the wall. He looked around the outside of it first but nothing seemed to be out of place. Then he stepped into it and before he got too far into it something happened. He knew there were a lot of cords on the floor and thought he had avoided them all, but as he realized he was quickly being acquainted with the floor, he out of instinct held his hand out to catch himself on the wall. Right onto the ON button.

He didn’t remember much but pain after that.

A lot happened in the year after the portal was turned on but Danny thought he was taking things well. His sister found out about everything sooner than he liked but having someone to help him was something he didn’t realize he really needed until then. The ghost attacks were frequent and Danny was having trouble finding the time for school, friends, and fighting ghosts that the assistance helped a lot. 

Danny sat at as desk in Mr. Lancers class, who was going on about the play Hamlet. Danny was only half paying attention, he was preoccupied thinking about the latest conversation he had with Clockwork. Danny was recently crowned prince after his victory over Pariah Dark. He didn’t want the crown, ancients knew what Grandfather would do if he ever found out, but he had no other option but to accept. The conversation left him rather drained and it felt like every word his teacher spoke bled together. 

He eventually made his way to lunch and before he could make it to his destination a blue mist wafted out of his mouth. Sighing he ran out of the room to find a place to transform. Once he was Phantom he wasted no time finding the ghost. Of course it was Boxie. 

Before he had time to even fight though a portal opened up right besides Danny and he was kicked in by the Box Ghost. The world seemed to swirl around him until he landed harshly onto some pavement. The pavement was a roof and he appeared to be in a city. 

Not just any city he soon realized as he looked over to a bank that had the words ‘Gotham Bank’ brightly plastered on the front.

Shit… Danny wanted to avoid something like this, unfortunately the portal was already gone. 

After taking a moment to think about his predicament he decided the best course of action was to call Jazz.

He took a look around the rooftop he was on and when he didn’t see anyone he transformed back. 

Pulling out his cell from his pocket he pulled up his sister's contact on it and hit the call button. 

His sister took a bit longer than usual to answer but the hesitation in her voice caused him to pause, “H-hello?”

“Jazz, it’s Danny, we’ve got a code green,”  he knew setting up code colors with his sister would come in handy. Red meant he was gravely injured, yellow meant the ghost got away and he was in pursuit, blue meant he caught the ghost, and green meant he fell through a portal or something similar. 

There was silence on the other line for a moment and Danny was almost going to say something else but she spoke, “How do you know my name?”

Master Post:

Next:

[loverofpiggies]

I STUMBLED ACROSS YOUR FIONNA AND CAKE COMIC AND WAS LIKE 'WOW THIS IS SO GOOD I SHOULD FOLOW THE PERSON MAKING THIS' AND THEN I LOOK AND I SEE LOVEROFPIGGIES!??!??? I USED TO FOLLOW YOU BACK IN YOUR UNDERTALE DAYS THIS IS SO SURREAL TO ME

HA HA YO WELCOME BACK TO MY HUMBLE LITTLE BLOG OVER HERE!!! you're not the only one who said that! I hope you enjoy what I got planned, it's gonna get nuts!

[aeymii]

Sometimes, you just gotta sit back and draw this a-hole✨

[ying-doodles]

drifting closer

a comic based off @lloydfrontera's post about touch averse javier slowly becoming clingy to lloyd after the end of the novel! :> although the touch averse part didn't make it in lol,,

[whispereons]

Masterlist!

I'm Whispereons and I mainly write yandere Genshin Impact fics. The SAGAU is my long time obsession if it wasn't obvious.

For ease of convenience I will have this masterlist pinned with my works, taglist, and tags used on my blog.

Currently I don't have any rules to abide by. I enjoyed all the comments, reblogs, asks and submissions I received thus far!

Just a warning for anyone new, I advise you to make sure your blog has some form of personalization. Like a profile pic, a sentence saying hello in your bio or even just a single post saying you're human will do. It's to prevent you from getting the report and block combo when I do my spam/porn bot purges.

SAGAU works

Oracle!Reader - with my current editor @serpent-benediction (hopefully) fixing up the older chapters.

Followers Special: 1K

Inazuma:

City - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 Sea - Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Liyue:

City - Part 9, Part 10, Wilderness - Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18 City V2 - Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25

(Don't judge my old works too harshly, I really was new at writing!)

Self-aware Genshin Impact Series (incomplete): Warmth, Screen, Team Player, Over This Shit

Oneshots - Another Drink, It's tough to be a God

Normal Yandere Genshin Impact:

Venti/Barbatoes x EOS!Reader: Planned, Protection or Possession?, Control

General Yandere Posts:

Male yandere x fem reader: Insecurity

Tags to use to navigate my posts!

#whisp's amateur work - all of my writing

#sagau oracle au - everything related to my oracle!reader (was implemented late so the first tag is more reliable)

#a whispered response - me answering asks/submissions

#whisp's collection - my personal collection of my fav authors, artists, and anything else. My mindless reblogs aren't tagged with anything to avoid cluttering the tag system.

#peering into the whisp - if I get personal asks, this is the tag I would use

If you regularly sends asks with some way to identify you then I usually give you a tag too.

My taglist for my Oracle!Reader:

If you are in italics, that means I couldn't tag you! That could be due to you being shadow banned or having your settings set to hide you from being searched. I will keep this master list updated with each new user, I truly don't mind tagging you all. It's honestly a nice feeling.

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername

@zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @starsofabundance, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe, @ghosthii, @beloveddroplet, @uchihaeirin, @ibelieveinsleep, @idk098, @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback, @toramune, @haaaaaades, @horologiumwise, @melovaaaa, @alittletiredcry, @aphxdea, @atsukawolfcat, @desirabletravel, @pinkpainc, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @yuyuzi-ling, @hyperfixationwhore

@juuuuuj101010, @avalordream, @kurayamioterasu, @tottybear, @koiikuno, @lynx-of-skies, @quacking-simp, @synthe4u, @kascar-chronicle, @hug4helios, @hug4helios, @silverstarred, @koiikuno, @ithoughtthinks, @remiivx, @lemonade7255, @melpomenelurks, @average-yandere-enjoyer, @mnhao, @fuji-sen, @altumsomnum, @hehothrowawayfae, @unofficialabortive, @magnum0pus2231, @xxnessinessiellexx, @multiliker, @intpessimistic, @kitsunelivesyet, @extremelytoastybread, @mercy-not-merci, @silvermoon617, @evaline-ethan, @fallintothechasm, @imgonnaeatthatglitter, @bunniotomia, @3noa3, @astro-stars, @beary-kalkus, @yourfavepookiebear, @original-person, @alexx197197, @dxprived4-starboys, @bunniotomia, @smokycoffe, @hydroarchon-furinaa, @armystaysatnct, @solunamare

[the-soot-nest]

someone mentioned the rose maple moth is spamton colours which naturally made me want to draw moth mini spamton, BUT THEN I remembered plot for soot boi

Long story short, soot sprite Ralsei is a the remnant of the dying Dark Fountain, being a soot sprite means he has the potential "spark" to re-ignite the Dark Fountain again. Some more plot happens and our little soot sprite (along with Kris) goes through trials and tribulations (7 to be exact) to obtain a 'soul' of his own; our little soot sprite becomes an ember. That spark to ignite the Dark Fountain anew!

There's a mysterious 'wizard' that looks after the Fountain, the one who created the walled-off city to protect it, and he's getting desperate to save the Fountain he had so lovingly cared for and powered, even utilizing the little soot sprites it seems to spit out! I can absolutely see him sending out a little special variant of spamton to confirm that Ralsei does indeed have the [LIGHT] and the key to save the Dark Fountain.

This is a long winded, convoluted way of saying Moth Spamton would LOVE Ralsei when he becomes an ember. He would cling to him like he's a heavenly angel :)

[icedb1ackcoffee]

Corrupted by Design CH 4 | Feyd-Rautha x Reader

After generations of pillaging and destroying their ecosystem, you are assigned by the Emperor to work on with the Harkonnens to improve their planet’s agriculture as Imperial Ecologist. However, Giedi Prime is far from welcoming, and you must fight to survive the horrors you endure at the hands of the Harkonnens. When you catch the eye of the Baron’s youngest nephew, and most prized possession, you step into a world complicated by politics and revenge.

Tags: Unbeta’d, AFAB Reader, multiple OCs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, enemy to friends to lovers/enemy lovers, slow burn, fake science, blood, violence, gore, body horror, cannibalism, uncle/nephew incest (implied), eventual smut, etc.

A/N: I’ve never read the books, so this is a combination of the Villeneuve films, the Dune Wiki, and a heavy dose of just making shit up lol. I try my best to make Reader as nondescript as possible, but there are mentions of having periods and body hair in later chapters. As a warning up front, this will not have a Happily Ever After ending, but maybe more like Happy For Now?

Please mind the tags; this is very dark, but that comes with the territory.

Chapter Four: Obsession

Previous Chapter ⦾ Next Chapter

It took several days for the bleeding to stop. By the time you returned to the labs after your bedridden absence, that particular biting pain was replaced with grim paranoia. 

Your diet of Bane built itself inside of you so slowly, until all at once it was like the pain was a part of you, a second skin just beneath the surface. The increased light sensitivity and hand tremors you could get used to—if only the constant stomach cramps didn’t purge what little food you ate. What did it matter if you were already dying? 

You used up most of your supply of mint in effort to keep the pain at bay. Even after your period, your body barely adapted. It’s difficult to remember a time when you could merely breathe without feeling gutted.

Read More