gavis bettel talks about the ongoing tumblr poll!!
(disclaimer: this is all in good fun - bettel doesn't care about winning and neither do i. but we would all be thrilled if people came by and checked out his streams on youtube!! we have a silly goofy time over there)
link to his channel:
Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself, I am Gavis Bettel!
Please hold your applause until after the show.
Full-time Fool of HO
this is gonna be multiple parts at this point lmao, might as well accept that. divider credit as always to @/uzmacchiato
Ship: The Convict x Mechanic!Fem!Reader
Rating: 18+ (NSFW)
Wordcount: 3.8k [WILL CHANGE AS FIC UPDATES]
Warnings: IRON LUNG SPOILERS, references to other leg works, angst, dom!convict/sub!reader, fighting, cursing, no use of y/n, improper use of fabric scissors (not like that), foreplay, light bdsm, consent consent consent, oral (m!receiving), breathplay, hair pulling [WILL CHANGE AS FIC UPDATES]
Blurb: “I didn’t expect it, but you yelling at me was hot,” you mumbled with a shrug.
“You… you like it when I yell at you?” Simon clarified with disbelief clear in his tone. He’d never been in a relationship before you, the concept reserved only for the council members on Eden, so he had no frame of reference for what constituted normal. Was this a typical thing between two people? When you care about someone so much that even their anger is endearing?
“It’s not that. It’s… It was the way you looked at me. Like I was a target. Or, I don’t fucking know. Like I was prey,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.
“You want to be prey?”
There was hardly any hesitation in your voice as you whispered, “Yes.”
You might have taught the Butcher how to have sex, but he would show you what it meant to be fucked.
Part One - 2.0k words
Part Two - 1.8k words
this is mostly just a way for me to finally write some truly kinky shit lmao
Simon the Convict x Convict F!Reader
Chapter Two
Word Count: 1,414
Content Warning: night terrors, traumatizing memories, implied murder, implied torture
The days went by slowly, each day feeling longer than the last but since there was no real way to tell time on the space station, time seemed more like an enigma than anything. You were exhausted, staring blankly at the wall, the aches and pains in your body making you flinch and twitch when they flared. Simon sat silently in his cell, having watched you be brought back and promptly shoved into your cell. You haven’t said anything since returning from whatever torture they had put you through.
“What was it like?” Your voice was soft, hoarse, and broken from the straining to quiet yourself quiet during the tests. Simon focused on you and his expression shifted to confusion. When you didn’t get a response, you clarified. “Having people you could rely on? Having someone who seemed to care even just a little bit?” You winced when you tried to turn your head, resting your head against your arms on your knees and looking at Simon. The muscles in your neck were sore from tensing and straining them when the scientists would electrocute you. Simon was silent for a moment, thinking back to the beginning of E.D.E.N., before it became a death cult.
“It was nice. We all took care of each other, treated each other like family, looked after one another when things got rocky.” He explained, his hands laced together on his lap. He was sitting on the floor, facing you with one ankle crossed over the other. His hair had gotten longer, curlier, and unruly since none of the inmates were provided with typical hygienic products or even a comb. You nodded a little, thinking back to your little colony that had separated from E.D.E.N. and the C.O.I.
You fell silent again and Simon felt a frown tugging at his lips. In the amount of time since you’d arrived, the two of you had gotten to know each other a bit, especially after you revealed how the expedition had changed you physically. Your eyes lifted a bit when the lights darkened, signally that it was lights out time. You hesitantly but stiffly moved from the corner you tucked yourself into your cot and flopped down, a soft noise of pain slipping out when you hit the cot and landed on a sore spot in your back. But despite the pain, your exhaustion dragged you down into darkness as your eyes fluttered closed and your breaths evened out. However, Simon opted to watch over you for the night.
Your boots echoed against the metal floor of the burner sub, the map in your hands beginning to make sense once you pieced together that the coordinates on the control panel corresponded with the points on the map. “Just get these fucking photos and get out of here.” You muttered to yourself as you took a seat in the flimsy chair at the control panel. Captain Ava would update you on how long you’d been down in the blood ocean each day that passed which was useless but you appreciated it.
It wasn’t until the third day, when the oxygen in the sub dropped to fifty percent, that things started to change. Your eyes stared at the map in front of you, pursing your lips in thought until you felt the hairs at the back of your neck stand up, goosebumps beginning to perk up along your skin as you paused what you were doing and lifted your head. You stared at the sealed hull, the light bouncing off it and allowing you to see the reflection of a shadow standing behind you. Your eyes widened and you shot around, but the shadow was gone. You furrowed your brows, glancing over the back of the sub before turning back and returning your focus to the map. “Probably from fatigue, making me see things.” you said to yourself. But the sound of the speaker static made you jump, dropping the charcoal that you were using to mark the map.
You turned and looked at the speaker for a moment, waiting to hear Ava with an update but nothing came, making you wonder if your mind was playing tricks on you with the shadow figure and then the static sound. You forced yourself to focus again, huffing and continuing along the bottom of the blood ocean, watching the sensors and following the map to the next point of interest on it.
“Come my child, let me help you”
You whipped around upon hearing the voice of a woman, looking around but there was no one. There couldn’t be anyone. You were sealed inside the submarine, alone. So where did the voice come from.
“Shh, it’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid.”
Your eyes widened when it spoke again. You could see the woman in your mind. She was someone you’d encountered on the E.D.E.N craft during one of your late night thefts. She had offered you food and some medical supplies, even though she knew your purpose there, she knew you weren’t part of E.D.E.N’s purpose, and she seemed to be oblivious to the amount of blood on your hands, metaphorically and literally. But you’d fled, fearing that she would rat you out when you let your guard down. But you never forgot the kindness she showed to you, or the shy little boy who stood behind her legs when you came across them.
The voices started out quiet, soft whispers that you were sure weren’t there until they started to grow. Your eyes flicked around, your mind trying to figure out where they were coming from but you knew that they weren’t real. Except they were the voices of people who had met the end of your wrath when they got in your way. Then a new one. One that wasn’t there at that moment.
“You’re not from E.D.E.N.”
“I was a child then but….look, I’m sorry that EDEN ruined your perfect little sanctuary.”
“Slipping through the shadows on starships and transportation pods, stealing and killing. Why’d you do it?”
“Why did you do that, you idiot?! That’s how I get my freedom!”
The voices started to merge together, you couldn’t tell one from the other as they combined into one, the noise dizzying. Your hands clenched on your knees, your patience starting to run thin until you finally snapped, one of your hands closing around the movement lever and slamming it forward, even though you hadn’t checked the camera to see if anything was in front of you. The front of the sub slammed into something solid, jolting you forward and making you smack your head against the hull window. You could spot the small cut on your forehead when you sat back down, yanking the lever towards yourself for ten clicks before you shoved it forward again and slammed into the solid surface in front of the submarine. The voices kept getting louder, surrounding you, making them sound like they were coming from everywhere and nowhere at all.
You pulled the lever back again, tears building in your eyes as you clenched your jaw, unaware of the blood started to drip into the ship and onto your skin, mainly the side of your face and trickling down your neck. With another forceful shove of the lever, you rammed into whatever was in front of the ship, hearing a yell of pain in the voices swimming through your head, all of them yelling in unison until everything went black.
You shot awake, skin covered in a layer of sweat that made you peel off the layers of clothing that covered you. They felt too tight, too suffocating, too much. Once you were stripped down to a tank top, the pants and boots, you leaned back against the metal wall, the cool touch a stark contrast against the heat of your skin. It was then that you realized that something was holding your hand, making you look down and spot the other hand laced with yours. You followed up the arm until your eyes landed on Simon’s face, his gaze meeting yours, his eyes full of concern and searching your face to make sure you were okay. It was in that moment, as you looked over and took in his features, you realized how much he looked like his mother.
"You want the butcher?!" Um yeah I really fucking do Simon.
By that I mean a knife to the throat as Simon looks wild-eyed, teeth gritted, another person altogether the other part of him the butcher. The one who killed to feed the last tree of Eden before gaining some sort of conscience or maybe it was always there but the thought of being part of something bigger, of Eden, made it okay... That's the man staring now, a killer, murderer, and yet there's something beside the fear in your belly- lust.
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