#verse: wor

[halfmoonshines]

Hello! I saw that you write for TVD so I wonder if I can get a Damon x witch!poc fem reader, in which she, deferential to everyone who only expects the worst from him, sees something good in him, which is why she always chooses him and defends him (only Damon receiving all the love and care he deserves) please? With lots of fluffy and angst

thank you <333

deserving

damon salvatore x witch!poc fem reader

summary; you were not blind to everyone's aggression and faults, so why was everyone blind to everything but Damon's?

a note that this is not set anywhere specific in timeline - alsooo... minor Elena hate? She's such a villain to me.

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The living room of the boarding house had been destroyed, couch flipped and table turned to scrap by Stefan's outburst. He had stormed out quickly afterward, but not before telling both Elena and Damon that they had made him this way.

You stood near the entrance to the room, the magic in your veins humming as it begged to be released on the retreating, erratic vampire. He had been binging on human blood for so long now, you weren't sure he would ever go back to the mild mannered man you had first met all those years ago. No matter what scheme Elena and Damon concocted in their desperate attempt to save him.

"This is all your fault." Elena's voice wavered, but it was full of venom. Your eyes snapped to find her but she was locked on the eldest Salvatore. "You did this to him."

Damon shook his head, confusion marring his face. "Elena, you know that I've been trying-"

"If you had just cleaned up your act a bit sooner, Damon!" She was angrily gathering her things now, getting ready to storm out after her equally as volatile ex. "He wouldn't be this way if you hadn't influenced him."

Your eyes were only on Damon then, you could see the tell-tale clench of his jaw from across the room. The way his fingers flexed. He was upset, because he cared, but he would lash out because he didn't know how else to stand up for himself.

"That's not very fair, Elena. Stefan is his own person. Damon didn't make him do anything." Your voice was firm as you took the single step down into the living room, inching closer to Damon. Trying to let him know he wasn't alone.

Elena's eyes narrowed, a disbelieving smile gracing her face. "Are you really defending him right now?"

"Yes." No hesitation. "I am." You could feel his gaze burning a hole in your back while you stood like a human shield between him and the Gilbert. "I understand you're upset, we're all worried about Stefan. But it isn't fair to blame everything on Damon."

Her scoff would bother you for the next week. "Whatever you say." And with that she left.

The nervousness was settling in your chest when you finally turned to Damon, offering him a small smile. "Sorry about that."

His eyes searched yours for just a second before he turned around and walked upstairs silently.

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"Damon, you're bleeding." You noticed the blood literally pouring from his abdomen when he peeled himself away from you, having shielded you from the explosion that just rocked the gym of the high school. You vaguely noticed your friends pulling themselves to their feet around you, Caroline and Stefan arguing with each other over something. You didn't notice Elena storming over.

Everyone else's yelling voices faded away when you looked up to meet his gaze, noticing his eyes flickering over your dark skin, checking you for any injuries of your own.

You reached a hand out to heal him. You knew he would heal eventually, but it was the least you could do since he most definitely got injured shielding you. You didn't know what was going on with you and Damon lately, but just the thought of him bleeding made you nauseous.

Before your hand could make contact he was yanked away from you, a barely perceptible wince coming from him at the movement. You were angry before you even decided to be.

"How could you not warn us?" Elena's voice was shrill against the pounding in your head from the boom that happened moments ago. You couldn't help but noticed she didn't have a scratch on her but didn't hesitate to hit Damon right in the chest.

"Elena." You stepped forward to wedge yourself between them, not wanting Damon to take the matter into his own hands but not allowing Elena to put a hand on him. Vampire or not.

Everyone was staring now.

"No! Don't Elena me. He full knew that this group of vampires had ex military with them. A warning about potential bombs would have been nice!"

You tried hard to put a cap on your frustration. "Why would he willingly walk into somewhere that could blow him to pieces? Pretty sure there's no coming back from that. Even for a vampire."

Elena seemed to debate her reply for a moment, gaze going from the rigid vampire behind you to your own eyes. "One day, he's going to hurt you so bad, you won't care about his feelings anymore." She left with that, Stefan and Caroline in tow. Caroline was the only one who cast a haphazard glance back at you.

"Thank you." His voice was quiet, and your shock was loud.

"Of course."

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"Can you believe him?" You winced as Elena's angry voice sounded after the slam of the front door. You and Caroline had beat her to her own home after the showdown at the grill, hoping to clean up the broken glass you knew was waiting for her.

"I mean, what else do we expect?" Bonnie's reply was sardonic when they both rounded the corner, spying the other women in the kitchen.

"Damon is the most selfish, disgusting idiot that I have ever had the misfortune of knowing." Elena's tone was final as she slammed her purse down on the kitchen counter, pulling up one of the stools to plop into.

You tried to ignore that angry twinge that always started in your chest whenever people set their crosshairs on the older Salvatore. He seemed to be everyone's resident punching bag, despite the recent uncovered issues Stefan also harbored.

"I still say we should get rid of him." Caroline sounded chipper at the idea she presented, ready to have his head on a pike.

That was most definitely all that you could take. The glass you had been cleaning was roughly thrown into the trash can. "So we're going to get rid of Stefan too, right? Cut out the evil right at its root. Maybe Tyler too."

Her friends looked taken aback, each ones eyebrows pulling together while they stole glances at each other.

"Are you okay?" Bonnie was hesitant in her question, her caramel colored eyes focusing on your own.

"I'm fine, Bon. But it doesn't seem like you guys are. For the last year, all I have heard is how Damon is the bane of everyone's existence. How he's evil. How is what happened tonight his fault? Do you blame him for trying to save his mother? You surely wouldn't fault Stefan for doing the same. How can you make him the villain if you wouldn't hesitate to do what he does? If you were put in the same position?" You gripped the kitchen counter, willing your magic to calm from the swirling mess inside of your stomach.

"You can't mean that. He's done terrible things." Elena argued, arms crossing over her chest.

"So have you. So have I. But he's also done amazing things, Elena. He's sacrificed himself time and time again to try and win some kind of favor with you people but you've done nothing but take him for granted, and then demonize him even more when he dares to let your treatment of him hurt his feelings." By the end of your statement, you had your purse hanging off your arm and you were shoving past Bonnie to get out the door.

"Where the hell are you going?" Caroline questioned.

"To go make sure Damon's okay."

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You were pretty sure you knew where you were going to find him. Since The Grill was out of commission due to the commotion early in the night, he was definitely drinking at home. That's where you came upon him, sprawled out on the couch in the living room of his home, tumbler of amber liquid dangling from his fingers.

"Shouldn't you be plotting my demise with the Scooby Gang?" The defeat in his voice nearly made you halt, a sadness pulling at the back of your eyes. This man had no venom to him, only defeat.

You came around the couch and gently moved his legs to the ground, taking the seat you just cleared. Those clever blue eyes tracked your movements, something foreign shaded in them.

"I know you don't usually want to, but do you want to talk about tonight? It wasn't an easy decision to make, Damon." You tried to sound understanding without being placating, fearing him holding up behind those walls he so loved to build.

"It wasn't a difficult decision. She had to die. So she did." You would've believed his cold mask if you hadn't heard the cracking in his voice.

You sighed a bit, daring to reach a hand out to rest on his knee. His gaze snapped to yours quickly, hardening slowly like water in winter. "You don't deserve to feel like the villain, Damon. You're put in impossible positions to make terrible decisions, and then shunned for them. Please don't let their hatefulness make you feel any less than you are."

You thought he was going to quip back at you at first, a sardonic smirk on his face - but it dropped quickly, and his voice was almost a breath when he asked his question. "Why do you keep defending me?"

A million answers floated through your mind, because there were so many. But you felt like there was only one that would suffice right now. "Because I care about you."

His lips found yours quickly, fitting together like the last pieces of a puzzle.

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[pinehutch]

The Silt Verses my absolute beloved: I'm relistening and was so excited to get back to Chapter 17, and the way that most of the episode just sweeps over you with an unexpected degree of kindness. Important to be reminded that kindness — or something like it — is possible, even in this brutal world.

[headstrongblake]

someone tell octavia that she doesn’t need to bring skairipa into every verse she has cause she claims it’s part of her development.

[leorugiet]

@pyrrhicpaths​ liked for a small starter

“Don’t give me that look.” Actually, he can’t see any look she’s giving him, he has his back turned to her. It takes a great deal of effort to turn around on this knee. “You aren’t taking my job. I’m just telling you... I’m out of commission for a bit. You might have to take on some of my responsibilities. You can handle that, right?” He grabs the wall, lifting his injured leg before turning towards her. “Monica is busy at the base. You have to do the fieldwork. I can’t ask anyone else.”

[pyrrhicpaths]

@monicaelshett || [starter call]

Smaller hands pitter-patter lightly, repetitively upon the wooden dining table, giving a steady beat that practically echoes throughout the near-empty house. Coloured pencils and scribbled-on papers have already been forgotten, along with the rest of the toys and craft materials strewn around the room that were meant to distract the child for the rest of the evening.

Eventually, the hand beats that kept time with the pendulum of the old clock in their temporary abode lost steadiness, fingers drumming faster, harsher, more erratic-- only to stop abruptly with a silent wince from the boy's mouth when he finally notices the numbing of his digits, and how his own heartbeats thrum just as violently within his chest. The anxiety is getting to him.

"Monica," he calls out in a voice which wavers with deep worry over Dustin's and Iris' absence that can no longer be ignored with small distractions. "They're coming back, right?"

[galahdborn]

sorry ,  i’m just .  i’m so distracted .

↪     𝑯𝑶𝑳𝒀 𝑾𝑨𝑹  .   || @topmechaniic

"Hey." Nyx taps Cindy's shoulder, a small smile on his lips. He doesn't know her, but he can understand why she'd be distracted. The situation was pretty shit, after all.

"It's okay. The situation is pretty shit, but we'll manage. We just have to work together," he assures, knowing he'll do his best to believe his own words as well. He didn't survive the fall of Insomnia just to lose hope now. Hammerhead was a busy place, so it wasn't a surprise that their top mechanic was going to be busy.

"If I can help in any manner, just say the word."

[deluxewhump]

Pride of Princes

A story in the Blackmuir Reign Verse

2: the cell

CW: imprisonment, torture mention, fantasy religious persecution, threat of execution, royal caretaker

Prev

Robb Muirdwele was a prison guard for castle Blackmuir. He was not kingsguard, nor was he a knight as he’d once naively dreamed of. But guarding the cells below the castle was an easier job than others he’d had, and he was grateful for the relative shelter the stone walls provided, and the generous meal they were given once a day, as all staff and servants inside the castle were.

But there were drawbacks. For one, it was dark and damp, and even in high summer he had a cough he could not shake. For another, there was the new prisoner. Robb now had to be on his toes at all times because of unusual visitors to the cells, including clerics and more than a few knights. Not only that, but there were the awful sounds that accompanied these visits to the new prisoner. They were torturing him, that much was clear. Robb wondered what it was he’d done to elicit such ire from men of the Tercet and knights and soldiers of the king. The prisoner never said. He never said anything to Robb, or any other of his ordinary guards. He never begged for an audience with the King, or something to write with, or tried to bribe them with desperate promises of money and favor. He cried out and screamed during the torture, of course, but that was all.

When Prince Aedric came to the cells, Robb thought this prisoner must have really done something extraordinarily offensive to House Blackmuir. He bowed his head hastily to the prince, and let him inside the cell.

“Light,” he requested, and Robb lit the cressets. When he’d provided the prince with all the light the cell was designed to provide, he stood just inside the door and watched with his hands folded in front of him dutifully, his back straight. He’d never been this close to a Blackmuir, and only seen the king once. Aedric was the eldest son and heir, with pale brown hair and sharp, straight features that made his face both unforgettable and striking. He wore a doublet of black lined in silver, Blackmuir colors, and a knife at his belt. He’d brought two soldiers with him, but instructed them to wait at the entrance door ten yards down the corridor. They did so silently.

Robb watched as the prince approached the prisoner, his fine boots making soft chuffs on the stone. The prisoner lifted his head slowly, fearful and bleary. The last visit involved a cleric again, and he’d had him beaten before they’d even exchanged words.

The prisoner stiffened at this new presence and flattened as tight as he could against the cell wall. The prince squatted to sit on his heels before him.

“Lord Barrowfen?”

So that was his name. Not that it mattered to Robb. Sometimes he knew their names, sometimes he did not. It wasn’t his job to know them, only to guard them and keep them alive.

“Are you alright?”

The prisoner lifted his head. One eye was swollen to near shut, and he had caked blood that had dried from his nose to his upper lip. He held his arms protectively over his torso, which Robb knew was likely deeply bruised, if not riddled with breaks. The knights or soldiers did the hurting. The cleric only ever watched, holding his white robes an inch off the floor so they would not be dirtied.

“Will you not answer?”

The prisoner spat in his face. Robb flinched.

Incredibly, the prince did not retaliate, but lifted his sleeve to wipe his cheek. “I would feel the same,” he said wryly. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt. That was not on my orders, Lord Barrowfen. I want you to know that, because I’m trying to help you.”

“I’m not a lord in here,” said the prisoner. Robb strained to hear. “I belong to the gods. Not to my father’s new pretender gods. Nor yours.” The prisoner coughed and winced, giving an involuntary whimper at the pain it caused him to do so.

The prince turned. “Did you do this?”

“No, your highness,” blurted Robb. He’d forgotten the word royal. It was your royal highness for a prince, and then ‘sire’ thereafter. He licked his lips nervously. Why did the prince not know this was done by the king’s own men? Under supervision of the clerics? It didn’t matter. His job was to answer a Blackmuir’s questions.

“Who then?”

“Soldiers, sire. His Grace’s knights.”

“What about the clerics?”

“Yes, sire. They are present for it.”

The prince turned back to the prisoner. “Roan,” he said gently, almost beseechingly. “May I call you Roan, then?”

The prisoner looked at him guardedly. He blinked, something like a wince. Perhaps it hurt to shrug.

“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m going to send a healer down to you.”

The prisoner was caught off guard, if only for a moment. His look of naked hope turned to one of distrust. “One of the king’s healers?”

Robb could only see the back of the prince’s head, but he tilted it slightly at that. “I’ll come with him. I’ll watch him.”

“It won’t matter. They’re not going to stop,” said the prisoner. “They want me to recant.”

“Will you?”

The prisoner’s eyes grew bright as if wet, and he looked away toward the dark corner of his cell. “No.”

The prince moved from a squatting to sitting, letting his fine clothes contact the cell floor.

“Get us water,” he said over his shoulder. Robb turned to fetch it, wondering if it was for the prince or the prisoner. When he returned, the prince held out his arm to receive the cup without turning around. He dipped a kerchief into the water, and motioned toward the blood on the prisoner's face. Robb watched as the prisoner allowed the prince to blot the kerchief against his upper lip until the blood came off. When he was done, he offered the prisoner the rest of the water. He lifted one hand gingerly from his ribs to take it.

“But would it not be surrendering to go through with the arrangement?” the prisoner asked. Robb understood he had missed a piece of their conversation when he’d gone for the water. “Would I not still be capitulating?”

“Not to me,” said the prince, with his knees drawn up and his forearms draped over them casually, as if he were picnicking on a green hill and not sitting on the floor of the dungeons. “You can keep your gods, as far as I’m concerned. I’ll build you a shrine.”

“My gods have no need of a shrine.”

“Whatever it is they need, then. Whatever you need. You’ll have it, but we have to say the vows. I can protect you much more effectively if you are my peaceweaver.”

“Why would you protect me?”

“You’re betrothed to me. Why wouldn’t I? ”

“They won’t let me out without a recantation. They’re going to do worse, and then there will be a trial, and then they’ll kill me.”

The prince nodded. “It seems so, at the moment. Do you know how?”

“How they’ll kill me?”

There was silence before the prince spoke again.

“Treason is usually resolved with burning at the stake.”

The prisoner dropped his eyes.

“I don’t tell you that to be cruel. I’m trying to find an answer, but I think you might need to be that answer for yourself. Will you work with me?”

“I won’t accept the Tercet,” said the prisoner. His voice trembled slightly. “And I’m not afraid.”

The prince hung his head, and then brought it back up again. “Don’t do it out of fear, then. Find something else.”

In the firelight, Robb could see the prisoner’s eyes well up again. He grit his teeth and hugged his arms over his abdomen, looking over the prince’s shoulder at the wall of his cell. He was resolute. At length, the prince climbed to his feet.

“I’m still bringing a healer,” he said as he walked out of the cell. Robb shut the wooden door and fastened its iron bolt with the prisoner inside.

Next

[fourmula1]

Maxiel, heat

summer of cum whatever i want day 27: anon's prompt from 6 months ago

max/daniel. anxious baby omega max 'verse. 866 words.

-

When Max arrives in the Paddock he beelines for Red Bull’s hospitality and to get to Daniel’s room with as little interference as possible.

He feels like everyone knows; like one look at him will give away the fact that he just went through his first heat and he’s a ripe omega ready for the taking.

He isn’t. He hates it. He wants to be anything else but this.

Daniel’s room is predictably a mess already but it’s comforting to know that that means he’s already here, somewhere. There’s a hoodie flung onto the little couch, and various snacks and half-drunk drinks on his table and it’s. Familiar and safe.

Max drops his backpack and settles himself on Daniel’s couch, pulls out his phone to scroll and not think about all the appearances and team duties he’ll have to face over the weekend. He’s already hyper-aware of the leers he gets from alphas, but now he fears everyone will know he’s been through his first heat and it will only get worse. He can go on suppressants now, his doctor said, but his appointment isn’t for another week.

When the door to the room opens Max looks up, expecting Daniel’s surprise and eye rolls at seeing him there like he’s come to expect when he hides away in Daniel’s room, but this time there’s no surprise and Daniel slips in and closes the door quietly.

“You’re not surprised to see me?” He asks, joking a little as Daniel raises his eyebrows at him.

“Mate, sorry, but anyone with a nose is gonna know where you’ve been,” Daniel says and Max’s enthusiasm to see Daniel faulters for a moment, heart sinking into his stomach. Everyone can smell it. Him. Available omega fresh off a heat. It’s insurmountably upsetting and Max curls in on himself a little, crosses his arm up over his chest to rub at his shoulder.

Daniel must smell the way his scent changes because he’s over to the couch in a moment to squeeze in next to Max, the way they always do when Max hides in here.

“Maxy, it’s not a bad thing,” Daniel says, shaking his head a bit. “Sorry, just. It’s not easy being an alpha either, you know?”

I don’t, Max thinks, bitterly. Alphas are strong and respected and don’t have to deal with the nerve-wracking idea that they’re vulnerable to the world.

“Better than this,” Max says and he knows he sounds petulant. Daniel laughs, a little bitter himself, and Max looks up at him with a frown.

“I can smell not only you and your heat, but that you’re pissed off, too,” Daniel explains, shaking his head a bit. “It’s not easy. Alphas have instincts too, you know. It’s hard when I can smell that you’re upset and there’s nothing I can do about it,” Daniel says and Max frowns deeper because he supposes he hadn’t thought about that. Alphas can smell the change in omegas’ scents and moods, and Max knows that… that the good ones tune in more. Daniel tried to explain it before – instincts driving him to fix and make things better.

“Well at least no one’s sniffing you out thinking about making you some bitch to conquer,” Max says as he nudges his elbow into Daniel’s side.

Daniel is quiet, next to him, and Max is torn between wanting to look, and being scared of what he’d see.

“I’m not doing that,” Daniel says and his voice is quiet, subdued. Disappointed.

Max looks.

Daniel’s eyebrows are knitted together, eyes downcast at his hands in his lap and Max can feel a wave of empathy wash over him. Omega sense, he supposes, for the way he can feel and smell Daniel’s hurt feelings.

“I would never do that to you,” Daniel continues and Max feels his chest clench, feels like he needs to come up for air with how thick and cloying the emotion in the room is all of a sudden. He believes Daniel. He knows it’s true. Daniel’s been the one Max goes to escapes it all.

“I know,” he agrees, watching the way Daniel’s gaze is downcast, how he won’t look at Max. Something prickles at Max and he frowns a little, trying to work through what exactly he’s feeling. “I’m sorry, I know. You’re the only one, though,” he says, and Daniel snorts a little but it’s not a laugh. It’s annoyed.

“I won’t let anyone else, either,” Daniel insists, nostrils flaring a little, no doubt scenting Max without even really meaning to. “Just. Come to me always, yeah?” Daniel asks as he finally looks up at Max and meets his eyes.

Max feels a shiver up his spine at how intently Daniel is looking at him. Something… something beyond his understanding is happening here and he doesn’t know what to make of the woosh in his belly when Daniel’s hand reaching out to squeeze Max’s thigh gently.

“I will,” Max nods, watching Daniel’s tension soften at the assurance.

Something peculiar that Max hadn’t felt before… before his heat brought him into being a fully developed omega. A weird sort of pull, a tug, to assure Daniel and calm him.

Peculiar.

[sebsxphia]

ptolemaea.

preacher!rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: you and your local town preacher, rhett abbott, spend a night together in a motel room. rhett is there to calm your racing mind and have you admit your sins. based off the song, ‘ptolemaea’ by ethel cain.

￫ word count: 2.4K.

￫ c/w: heavy and dark religious themes, dark themes, fingering, kissing, swearing, overstimulation, edging, voyerism, mentions of oral (m!receiving), corruption and innocence kink, daddy kink, gagging on rhett’s fingers, derogatory language and cnc.

￫ a/n: i cannot recommend listening to the song ‘ptolemaea’ by ethel cain enough whilst reading this. the song, and entire album, ‘preacher’s daughter’, is a masterpiece. when i first listened to this song, the narrative voice in the song screamed preacher!rhett to me. this is part of ‘ptolemaea. | the verses.’ my main masterlist can be read here! 💌

previous chapter | next chapter

You pushed yourself against the back of the Motel door and closed it behind you. The paint was splintering and falling off in your palms. Rhett was sat at the edge of the Motel double bed. He looked up from his studious reading of his Bible, to catch your hesitant gaze.

“Sorry, Rhett. I didn’t know if y’ wanted me to follow you in, s’ I waited an hour or so back in the Diner.”

Your hands came round to your front and your fingers instinctively played with each other, trying to distract yourself from Rhett’s eyes boring into you, and from the situation that you had found yourself in.

When your town Preacher asked you to come away with him and see the sights of the West, you never thought you would. Well, you never realized how easy it would be. You mentally kicked yourself for allowing his calloused, yet gentle hands, to win you over so easily. But you couldn’t find yourself to blame him. He had nothing to fault.

Rhett parted his lips to speak and his tongue wet at his bottom lip. He let out a ‘tsk’ sound and shook his head in disagreement at your statement.

“I invited y’ in, twice. Y’ know there’s nothin’ for y’ to fear now y’ with me.”

Rhett’s eyes raked over your frame as if to study you. To read every inch of your flesh and how your body visibly reacted to his deep and Southern drawl. His insides were gloating with pride. He had managed to get you right where he wanted you.

You love blood too much, but not like I do. Rhett thought as you stood, still pressed against the back of the Motel door, as if you were in shark infested waters. He could smell your blood from miles away and he was about to go in for the killing bite.

“Suffer does the wolf, crawling t’ thee. Promisin’ a big fire, any fire, t’ keep you warm.” Rhett quoted back and out loud to you, when you didn’t react to his original statement. He was trying to soothe your racing mind and to convince you that this was right.

You held his heavy gaze, but you were unable to avoid the obvious spread of his thighs, with his palms planted firmly on his worn jeans. You saw his lips twitch in the corner, threatening for an almost Devilish grin to spread over them.

“That’s how y’ feel, don’t you?” Rhett cocked his head to the side and continued when you still didn’t answer. “I heard you at those Sunday Sermons. Moanin’ my name in the bathroom cubicle when y’ thought everyone had left. I saw you through the crack of the door, wi’ your hand down your pretty pink panties and y’ conservative sundress hitched around y’ thighs.”

Rhett continued as he read the way your body reacted to his words. How your chest was rising and falling quicker and how your fingers tangled messily in with each other.

“I gave you everythin’ you needed after, ‘nd now, I need you.” His tone became an octave lower at the seriousness of his words. “I love you.”

His final words were the lasting kick you needed to get yourself off of the back of the Motel door. It was the first time you had heard Rhett utter such meaningful words. No text, or lines from the Bible could mean this much to you both. His words spun round and round in your head as you made your way over to him in a flurry. He mirrored you in response and came crashing into you with his lips meeting yours.

His large hands were cupping your hot and rosy cheeks, with his rough thumbs cradling underneath your jaw to keep your lips planted firmly against his, as his tongue ran along your bottom lip and dipped into your mouth. A groan emitted from you both at the kiss. It had been weeks since Rhett had you to himself and you both craved each other more than you cared to admit. Sin had never tasted so good.

You muttered against his lips, over and over, like a prayer, in between the heated kiss, “Love you, love you, love you...”

You both pulled away from the kiss to catch up with your similar and erratic breathing pattern. Your breath hitched in your own dry yet sticky throat, trying to form some sort of salvia. Rhett still held your gaze and it felt as though he was burning through to your retinas. It burned more than the sinful guilt you could feel punching deep within your gut.

“In my prayers, they say I’m the one He’s gonna take. He’s gonna take me Rhett, f’ my sins. I feel like I’m on fire.”

You stumbled back with his hold still on your burning cheeks. You bumped against the lone desk that held the old television and sun bleached writing paper that adorned the Motels logo.

“Sufferin’ is nigh, draw to me, m’love. I will keep y’ safe.” Rhett soothed his thumb under your jaw and spoke with a calm and peaceful tone, never wavering in it’s meaning.

You could trust in your Preacher when he told you that he would keep you safe. Rhett told you that you were special. You were the white light that came through the muggy clouds to descend upon Earth itself. You were beautiful, finite and Heaven’s gift, all rolled into one. And if you could continue to stay with him, your sins would be forgiven.

His face shifted as he watched your eyes plead for him. His eyes softened to lull you into safety.

“When a body decomposes, even the iron in their blood still fears the rotting. Everyone is hidin’ from somethin’, ‘nd I cannot stop it. I cannot stop God from choosin’ us.”

Rhett’s reassurances calmed your pounding heartbeat that you could still hear swarming in your ears, yet still, there was a twinge of doubt in your mind.

You fiddled with the frayed hemming on your dress. “Daddy’s left ‘nd Mama won’t come home.”

For the past months, you were walking on shadows with Rhett. You found yourselves dipping in and out for quick, and sinful meetings, in his backroom office at the Church. The last meeting had ended with your knees buckled on the floor and when night came along, your parents had clearly worried where you had got to.

The sight of their own child with the town Preacher’s cock resting heavy in your mouth was enough for them to disown you altogether. It was after that, that Rhett suggested you both get away. The town no longer wanted a filthy Preacher in their midst and he would surely loose his place within the Church.

Rhett’s left hand and thumb reached up to run across your bottom lip. “You poor thing. Sweet, mournin’ lamb.” His thumb dipped in between your lips and you latched your tongue onto the pad of him and sucked him in greedily. “There's nothin’ you can do. It's already been done.”

It was a gentle, yet blunt reminder, but the feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb made your mind go fuzzy altogether. You kneed into Rhett’s touch with no remorse. It gave you a sense of real fear, what a man like Rhett could bring upon a woman like you.

Your eyes had fluttered shut by this point and you registered the feeling of his right hand leaving your face. You could feel his calloused fingertips slide up your bare thigh and under your dress. His hand didn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop.

Your body jolted under his feverish touch when his large palm cupped your covered cunt. His index and little finger curved around the seam of your underwear and dragged along your lips. You still had your now swollen lips around his thumb, but he pulled it away and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a pitiful whine at the loss. A string of saliva was connecting from the pad of his thumb to your bottom lip.

Rhett shushed you in response as he replaced his thumb with his index and middle finger. They pressed down onto your tongue and you let out a choked sob as they pushed further down. Drool started to pool and drip out the corner of your mouth. It fell down onto the edge of your dress that was now hitched around your hips as his fingers moved passed the barrier of your underwear and slipped into your cunt with no complaint.

Your arousal had come seemingly quicker than before and Rhett had a prideful smile on his face, however your eyes were still scrunched shut and relishing in the taste of Rhett’s flesh and feeling the delicious movement of his fingers burying deep into your cunt, pressing up on the sweet spot that made you silently scream around his fingers.

You were aware that his eager gaze was still on you. No longer were you kept hidden away in a religious and sacred place. You were completely stripped bare for Rhett to see under the dim light in this dirty Motel room. What fear a man like Rhett brings upon a woman like you.

You swallowed around his thick fingers in your mouth and he took it as his sign to remove them from your swollen lips, to allow yourself to compose your erratic breathing. Your eyes blinked opened to his face.

“Please don’t look at me.” You muttered out in between labored breaths, as Rhett’s fingers still showed no sign of slowing down.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as his thumb ran calculated circles on your swollen, and up until now, un-touched clit. How could Rhett ever deny himself of this Heavenly sight.

He was quick to shoot his hand out and his fingers gripped tightly onto your chin to bring back your lulling head to him.

“Show me your face.” He demanded and your pleading eyes moved back to his.

You moaned again at his grip on your chin and inside your cunt, followed by a name.

“F— Father.”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head at the name you had mournfully uttered.

“I can see it in your eyes.” He bit back.

He keeps looking at me. Oh, God. I know what he wants. You thought in panic to yourself.

“Tell me, what have y’ done?” He was pushing you further. He knew you were close by the feeling of your walls clenching, then fluttering, around him, but he wouldn’t let you come until you spoke his name.

Your hips were rocking against him as if to try and push his thumb harder against your clit. You were desperate to chase that feeling, yet he slowed down his ministrations. It was still enough to keep you dangling on that edge, but not enough all together at the same time.

“Please, Father. I— I can’t—” You whined out pitifully.

There were tears pricking in the corner of your eyes now. The delicious overstimulation, yet not feeling anything was blissful torture. Although you were seated high on top of the Motel desk, your body felt like it could give way with how hard it was trembling. You shot your hands out instinctively to hold onto Rhett’s large biceps to steady yourself.

Inside, your mind was repeating the one name that Rhett wanted from you. It was on the tip of your tongue, but it wouldn’t escape. He cooed and shushed you in response to your incessant whining and groaning, out of sheer frustration with yourself. Slow and agonizing circles were being ran around your clit.

“I’m the face of loves’ rage, but y’ know I can make this pain all go away. Tell me, what have y’ done, sweet lamb?”

The coil deep within your stomach was threatening to snap any second. All your innocence was currently being held in the palm of Rhett’s hand and you couldn’t hold onto it for much longer.

“Fuck!”

To anyone else the scream would have sounded blood curdling and murderous, but to Rhett, it was the sweet sound of your submission.

“I’ve sinned, Daddy. I’ve sinned!”

The name and words fell so freely from your mouth that it caused Rhett to finally break out into the Devilish grin he’d been hiding all this time. Your head fell back again under his grasp at your admission. All you could feel was his hot breath on your burning ears.

“Good girl.”

Like clockwork, his fingers picked back up their pace. Sliding in and out of you at a steady pace and curling up to press on the sweet spot inside you, that made your own cum seep out from your lips and drip onto the Motel desk. His thumb resumed it’s calculated circles and you could feel yourself hurtling closer and closer to the Heavenly release. His voice was still close to your ear as he started to pray, when he could feel the walls of your wet cunt tighten around him.

“Blessed be the Daughters of Abbott, bound to sufferin’ eternal through the sins of their Fathers committed long before their conception. Blessed be their whore mothers, tired ‘nd angry, waitin’ with bated breath in a ferry that will never move again.”

Strings of strangled cries left your lips as your orgasm approached and hit your whole body with a blinding and warm glow. The final swipe of Rhett’s thumb over your clit was all you needed and your cries turned silent with your nails digging so deep into his flesh that you knew it would mark.

“Blessed be the children, each and every one come to know their God through some senseless act of violence. Blessed be you, girl, promised to me by a man who can only feel hatred and contempt towards you.”

Rhett still continued on through your orgasm. Your hips were bucking ferociously against the palm of his hand, with you trying to rub your sensitive and swollen clit against the heel of his palm, to continue the feeling of the sensation and your earth shattering release.

“I am no good nor evil, simply I am, and I have come to take what is mine. I was there in the dark when you spilled your first blood.”

Your cries turned to incoherent mumblings. You were too drunk off Rhett giving you pleasure to string anything together. Of what he could make out, whilst he was still focused on reciting his prayer was, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…”

“I am here now, as you run from me still.”

He pulled the palm of his hand away from your cunt and he could feel your cum string from your swollen lips. His fingers pushed and brushed in turn against the sweet spot inside of you and his thumb returned back to your clit with no mercy. Your whole body was jolted back to the dirty motel room at the over sensitivity and your pleading tears now ran hot over your cheeks.

“S’ can’t, Daddy. Sensitive, ‘lease.” You wailed and begged Rhett for his forgiveness.

Your hips bucked again at his fiery touch. It caused the Motel desk to bump against the wall, yet he was still close to your ear and caging you in. The shark had finally had his taste of blood, and Rhett whispered his final prayer and wish.

“Run then, child. You can't hide from me forever.”

taglist: @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @iloveprettyboysblog @beachbabey @angelic-dreams13

[ghostofskywalker]

May I please request something where the (gn preferably) reader breaks their glasses during a mission so tech makes them a pair of goggles like his?

anon this is actually the cutest idea ever and as someone whose eyesight is terrible without my contacts (i used to wear glasses but not as much anymore) i understand the struggle <3

words: 2,454

summary: when an accident on the marauder leaves you without your glasses for an unknown period of time, tech takes matters into his own hands and makes you a replacement pair of goggles that match his own.

clone troopers masterlist

Seeing Double

“Kriff!” you swore slightly louder than you originally wanted to, but in your defense, this situation warranted it.

“Everything okay?” Hunter’s voice echoed from the device on your wrist, and it was at that point that you realized you had apparently forgotten to mute yourself on the comms, so the entire squad had just heard your outburst.

“Yeah, just that my glasses broke,” you said, trying to find collect the pieces from the dashboard of the Marauder. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue, except for the fact that it was currently nighttime and you needed them to see where you were going.

“Can you still steer the ship?’ Echo’s voice came through the device next. “We’re going to need a pickup soon.”

You weren’t too confident about your abilities at this point, but you also couldn’t let the team down. “It’ll be fine for a little while, but once you get back someone else needs to handle the controls.”

“Alright, as long as you don’t need one of us to go back there now.”

That was the last thing you wanted, because you were still a new member of the team and you definitely didn’t want them to think you weren’t capable. “No, just let me know when and where you need to be picked up from.”

The communication device went silent not long after that, and you were left to sit down in the pilot’s seat and attempt to repair your glasses. The actual lenses themselves seemed to still be intact, but one of the supports that rested behind your ear had come off (due to the fact that they had fallen to the floor and you stepped on the one side before you realized what had happened). But there was one flaw when it came to attempting to appraise the damage, and that was the fact that when they weren’t on your face, you couldn’t see all that well.

You weren’t blind per se (they had let you into the GAR after looking at your eye charts and seeing the glasses you wore every day), but you certainly didn’t see the world in high resolution when you didn’t have the lenses on your face. You had previously considered those tiny clear things that you saw friends put into their eyes, that would completely negate the need for you to wear glasses, but at the same time the idea of putting your fingers too close to your eye was a little bit nerve wracking (you knew the process certainly wasn’t for the faint of heart).

And you hadn’t experienced any issues with your glasses interfering with your work so far, or at least, not until now. Clone Force 99 had accepted you with open arms (well, it had taken a while in the case of one particularly grumpy sniper) when you had been assigned to them. Your technical title was “medic,” although you were also well-versed in mechanics and was qualified enough to repair the ship if necessary. You sometimes wondered if that acceptance had something to do with the fact that one of the members of the squad also wore lenses of some kind on his face, and if was, you were grateful to Tech.

If asked, you would probably cite Tech as your favorite member of the squad, and it wasn’t just because of your shared facial accessory. Even if you didn’t know whether or not his goggles were prescription or he just simply wore them for convenience, the two of you got along fairly well, which was a surprise because you were essentially assigned to them to do some of Tech’s job. But even though others might have seen you as a threat, you and the squad’s resident genius worked well together.

Bringing your focus back to the situation at hand, you realized that there was going to be no way to reattach the arm of your glasses without some kind of bonding agent (due to the place that the material had fractured and split apart when you stepped on it), and you gently pulled them up to your face. They certainly drooped on the side that had no support, but you would be able to see well enough to fly the ship for a few minutes until someone else could take over.

And it was a good thing that you could see at all, because the batch radioed in just a few minutes later, sending you a set of coordinates and telling you to step on it because they had met some hostiles.

Getting in the air was the easy part, but a flying animal that came out of nowhere shocked you to the point where you had to stop short, and your glasses came flying off your head. There was nothing you could do but watch as they clattered down the dashboard of the ship and once again fell and skittered across the floor, so far out of your reach that you knew there was no chance you could recover them before you had to move again. Instead, you would be flying blind (in the literal sense of the expression).

You were sure that the rest of the squad could tell that something was up when they saw the ship arrive at the coordinates, flying slightly tilted and having stopped short before you extended the ramp for them to get in. “Can someone come up here and take the controls?” you called out.

No one answered, but soon footsteps approached the cockpit and you turned around to see Tech walking towards you with his helmet under his arm. You stood up to greet him, but right as you opened your mouth to speak, the sound of transparisteel breaking filled the space, and the two of you looked down in horror as Tech lifted up his boot slightly to reveal your glasses, now completely shattered beyond repair. “Oh my,” he said as he looked at the carnage on the floor. “I deeply apologize, I did not know that was there.”

“It’s okay,” you said, still in some form of shock, but you didn’t want to make Tech feel bad over something he couldn’t control. “It wasn’t your fault, we’ll just need to put in an order with the Republic for some new glasses the next time we reach out to them.”

“That may be quite a while,” Tech responded, having reached down to collect the bent and disfigured remains of the glasses frame off the floor. “I may be able to-”

“Tech,” you cut him off gently, and he looked up at you as you placed your hand on his shoulder. “It’s not a big deal, I’ll be able to survive without them for a little while.”

“Alright,” he said, standing up. “In the meantime, you should rest. The assignment was a success and I will fly the ship until we stop for fuel or the next mission objective comes in.”

You just nodded and headed off to the bunks. You knew that sometimes if you went for a while without your glasses it could lead to headaches as your eyes strained to perform their usual function, so you wanted to avoid that as much as you possibly could (especially if you weren’t going to get new ones for a while). And as you drifted off to sleep to the sound of Gonky moving across the ship in the background, you really hoped that you’d be able to contact the Republic soon.

***

As he watched you leave the room, Tech couldn’t help but feel bad. You had assured him that none of this was his fault and that you weren’t angry at him, but he also knew how stressful it was to be living a life without corrective lenses when your eyesight was not that good. He had seen your glasses before and guessed that your level of nearsightedness was similar to his, and he would never want to spend any amount of time without his goggles, let alone an uncertain and extended period of it. He cleaned the small pile of debris off the floor and placed them in a small container once the ship had entered hyperspace, and for a while he just watched the blue streaks pass him by.

And it was as he watched out through the windshield of the ship that he had an idea.

His goggles were a thing of his own creation, and sometimes different parts needed replacing. Because of that, he had began keeping a small box of parts and pieces on the ship, with enough to make at least two other sets (just in case his primary pair was ruined beyond repair). If your prescription was similar to his, you might be able to wear a matching pair of goggles for a while, or at least until they could contact the Republic and order new glasses for you.

Right as he got up from the pilot’s seat, Hunter stepped into the cockpit. “Oh good, I was just about to call for you,” Tech said. “Can you watch the ship for a little while? I have something urgent to attend to.”

Hunter just nodded, and Tech was thankful that his brother didn’t ask too many questions so he couldn’t be slowed down. He wanted to have them ready for you by the time he next saw you, this way you didn’t have to go too long without any kind of visual aid.

He found the box of parts under his bunk, and after checking to make sure you were asleep in yours, he got to work, pulling the curtain around his cot to keep some privacy about what he was doing.

The shattered pieces of your original lenses turned out to be of some use to him, because he was able to calibrate the goggles to perfectly match your needs. It was much easier than he originally thought it might be, and by the time he could hear movement from outside his bunk, he was just putting the finishing touches on the goggles.

Wondering whether it was you or Wrecker that had woken up, he poked his head out to see you yawn and stretch. Quietly calling your name as to not startle you, Tech got out of bed and beckoned at you to follow him. “Is everything okay?” you asked, blinking as a brighter part of the ship came into view, and Tech quickly moved the hand that was holding the goggles behind his back so you couldn’t see what they were.

“I still feel terrible about your glasses,” he said. You opened your mouth (no doubt to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault), but he held up one of his hands to stop you and the other with the pair of newly constructed goggles in it. “And since I know the repercussions of spending extended periods of time without them, I made you something. I apologize if it is not a style you like, but I only had the materials to reconstruct my goggles and I figured it was better than nothing.”

You were silent as you took the goggles from his outstretched hand, but from the smile on your face, Tech knew that you weren’t spurning his gift. “Thank you,” you eventually said as you placed them on your face. “I love them.”

“I was able to use my scanner to match and calibrate this pair to the same level of magnification as your glasses,” he said.

You nodded, looking around the ship. “Thank you so much Tech. I really can’t believe you would do something like this, I’m so grateful.”

Tech went to respond, but you pulled him into a hug before he could get any words out. “You are very welcome,” he eventually managed to say.

“If you ever need anything from me,” you said. “Please don’t hesitate-”

He cut you off before you could finish your sentence. “I don’t want you to think that you are somehow in debt to me,” he said. “I did this because I wanted to help you, not because I wanted to gain something.”

For a fleeting moment, you looked like you were going to cry, and Tech’s eyes widened as you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek, your goggles knocking slightly against his. “I know,” you said. “But still, I want to thank you somehow. Maybe if we can get away from your brothers, I can take you out to dinner the next time we’re on Coruscant?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Those words were accompanied by a surprised (and hopeful) expression. He had of course taken you in as a member of the team, but it had recently been more apparent to him that how he felt about you was different than how he felt towards other people. He had always hoped that you felt the same way, but was never sure how to broach the topic.

“Yes,” you said, a smile on your face. “Are you accepting?”

“Yes.”

Tech stared at you for a moment, and you stared right back. He started to lean in, and you mirrored his movements. He was just finishing up calculations on how to best kiss you without bumping either set of goggles when he heard footsteps approaching, and he instinctively pulled back.

You apparently had the same idea, and the two of you turned in shock to stare at Hunter, who had just stepped out of the cockpit and had an exasperated look on his face. Whatever hope Tech had of keeping this new relationship development a secret was now completely dead, because with Hunter’s enhanced hearing he must have been able to hear everything before this moment.

And with the two of you wearing both matching expressions and goggles, it must have been a sight to behold for his brother. Hunter opened his mouth, but then closed it before taking a breath. “I’m going to take a nap,” is what he eventually settled on. “Can you two watch the cockpit?”

Tech was halfway through a confirmation of Hunter’s request before his brother had walked completely past them to disappear in the direction of the bunks, and right as he disappeared you quickly leaned in to place a soft (and far too quick, in his opinion) kiss on Tech’s lips.

The cockpit offered a better view anyway, and although it wasn’t completely shielded from his brothers, it was much more private than just standing in the middle of the ship. They didn’t have a lot of time before everyone else woke up and their little secret spread like wildfire through the ship, and Tech wanted to make the most of the peace and quiet.

- the end -

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[wifey-ohara]

Blood Like Fire. Burns The Same Way

Miguel O'hara&teen!Spidey!Reader (gn)

A/n (oh dear god there's many)

Angst/no happy ending, hurt/abso-fucking-lutly no comfort, theres a major absence of them in this fandom

Literally miguel's life falling on the seems and reader steps on it

Grief, lots of that, hospitals/car accident mentioned, dead character(s)mentioned, abandoned family, replaced family, basically cheating, rubbing slat on wounds, pure evil, well deserved tho, major daddy issues,panic attack,quick mentions of reader physically suffering(i made my spider bite to be very very painful) crying,planty of that,crusing(warn me if i should add more)

Reader acts alot like miguel and picked alot from him even without meeting him, manners, intelligence ect.. they also wear reading glasses,but they don't necessary need them seeing as they're a spider

The reader is evil,cold, unfeeling to miguel,they only make it worst , getting their revenge and getting it fast

Shoud be gender natural if i didn't slip (do tell me if i did so i can fix it)

i did proof read this but i haven't slept in more them 24 hours so correct me where i go worng

You're half way through your new book when lyla appeared above the book, catching your attention

"lyla?" you asked the AI, she looked frantic, worried, which made you, in return, worried

She never gets like this, unless it was something serious, mostly about the multi-verse

"y/n! The canon happened! Miguel he's-"

Oh

The "canon" happened

You stooped listening to her and worring about it, expression going blank, eyes falling to book to resume your reading, it was more interesting then his "canon"

Lyla fell silent above up, her figure flinshing back slightly "y-y/n?" she hesitated, something you know she did on purpose

Your eyes snapped up to her, your reading glasses' frame divided your eye sight in half, lifting an eyebrow, you waited for her to continue

"miguel is coming back... " she said, hopeful, yet knowing the reality of the situation

Miguel o'hara , your biological father, left you and your mother on your fifth birthday to go live with another family, raising another daughter claiming that it's the best for the universe.

You lived with your mother for the rest of her days, 11 years to be more exact

She would always praise your father to you, saying how much of a great man he is, and how he's out there leaving his two most beloveds to save this universe

You smiled at her and pretended to believe her, because you know that deep down, she didn't mean a word of it

And you didn't need to reach deep down to know, in fact, all you needed were mere touches on your cyan screen, activate a camera, to see him smiling at a mother that wasn't yours, a family that wasn't his and most of all, a daughter that wasn't you

He left when you were 5,your mother left when you were 16

you were bitten at that age too, sitting on your mother's grave, angry at your mother for leaving, angry at your dad because he doesn't know that she left and most of all angry at yourself for thinking about him in such a moment, that's when it happened, a little pinch at first, you thought nothing of it, but by the time you reached your room, you were crying, kicking and screaming, hell running through your flesh, lyla hovering around trying to offer words of comfort but to no avail

And that's what you call, your "canon" For becoming a spider, suffering alone..(it was actually losing your mother, but hey! Maybe with both being absent you'll have more powers?!)

You weren't put into an orphanage because you were almost 18 with stable income and good grades, one thing you could thank your father over is his pay check and his intelligence,, which you question from time to time if it was your mother's, and she decided to keep it hidden

After alot and of studying the multi-verse (mostly out of spite to prove that miguel didn't actually need to leave, to which he didn't, it was a canon for that girl to lose her father, by him being in the picture the universe he's in will get destroyed when her canon becomes his and he loses her!)

but then again, that lab that only opens to him was proof, of your intelligence, since it's your lab/work place now,, only opens at your command, full of your tools and projects, would he ask for it back? Not that you would give it to him,, it doesn't belong to him anymore, hell, nothing in this house does

By the time you re-surfaced from your dark thoughts you were already washing dinner's dishes, damn, you didn't even enjoy it, you rolled your eyes, as lyla flew around mumbling stuff under her breath, she sounds like fly, you held in your smile

You dried the last plate when you senced it, your face dropped and lyla paused.

He was here

You acted like nothing is happening, wiping the counters, your back facing the entery of which he'd reach a few seconds after unlocking the door

Lyla disappeared, probably not wanting to deal with the tension coming in the shape of traitor with bloody,torn clothes, messy head of hair, red,puffy eyes, and barely standing on his two damn feet

You heard him pause right before reaching the opening that signals the end of foyer and the beginning of the huge living room, dinning room and kitchen tied to it, the only thing separateing them were bits of walls and counters

You can hear his confusion, and damn it was funny, confused why didn't his "true love waits forever" wife come hurring to his side already? the memory of her wishing every night in that hospital that his mission was over and he'll come to her the next morning as you try to fall asleep in her side in that uncomfortable hospital chair ignited your hate for him like gasoline to a fire

He's dragging his feet carefully now, wondering why hasn't his daughter come with her mother yet, standing behind her, leaning on the door pillar, looking up at him like he was a gift sent from the sky, a dream came true, a legend proven real, a hero coming from war

You almost laughed at the idea, if it wasn't for his breath hitching at the sight of you

You were wiping down the stove now, pretending to be blissfully unaware of him, despite all your spider sences screaming at you to turn around, either fight back or swing away, even they knew he was a stranger

The stove and counter were half way through their third wipe down when he finally spoke

".. Hey" a broken, shell of a word

You turned around to face him, acting like you knew he was there, or that he'd been there for ages already, and both were correct, but he wouldn't know that

"hey" you repeated, voice louder but not attacking, monotoned to match you deadpan stare at his redish eyes

He took a sharp breath, the lack of reaction having caught him off guard, ego reversing itself back into a tiny black dot

You looked him up and down, features like an ironed shut book to him, good.

"um.. Do you know who i am? " he asked, confused, does he think you were not his?

You almost huffed out a laugh before swallowing it down by "Miguel O'hara?" it was worded like a question, toned like a state of the obvious, he almost folded in on himself, seemingly smaller, somehow..

"yes but what else? "

You snapped

He dares ask what else, as if he ever played any else it your life

Traitor, lier, cheater-

"-my sperm donor" you said, an extended hand, to give him a slap on the face

His eyes widen with horor

"where- where is your mother! " he was the one to snap, sharp yet weak, and you could almost see him yelling, blaming your mother "i leave to save this whole universe and what do you do??? Tell them I'm their sperm donor?!? You felt nothing towards me or my honor to tell them anything else!... You never really loved me huh?"

So you kept staring

" where is your mother? " words more confident this time, more angry

You swallow the knot in your stomach that brings tears to your eyes

It was now or never, break him or make him, and you're not a maker

"she was my canon event" you said, and you hoped that the hallowness of your voice did a good job in hiding the sadness that came with it

It takes him a moment,, then two, until he looks genuinely terrified, red-eyes becoming glossy, quickened breath turns into pants and little dry sobs, legs finally buckling down, arm reach to the nearest surface to insure a safe(r) landing, other hand reaching for his throat, tearing what's left of that blue and red suit of his, it was almost comical how it happned

Little pants turned into heaving "h-how-why-y.. What-" the rest you couldn't make out even of you tried

"car accident, last year, stayed three weeks in the hospital after they told us that even if she survives she'll suffer, do they pulled out the plug, by her call " you let the high walls get even higher because no way you are crying in front of this unfeeling man, no matter how much emotions are currently being on full blast in front of you right now

More heaving in hopes of enough oxygen to enter his lungs and calm his storm of thoughts

"the last weekshe stayed alive waiting for you, she was almost certain that you'll come see a last time" you didn't usually like rubbing slat in open wounds, but his look like a delicious meal for you

And there it was- that heart-crushing sob,that sounds like chocking and feels like it too, that always come with more tears then you know what to do with, as he leaned on the wall hands on his face,plams pressing into his eye sockets,,tears somehow still a stream down his face,despite the un-humanly possible pressure he's using..

For the first time since he entered, you took a step, out of the kitchen, then another, until you were in front of him...

He stilled a bit by your closer presence, and you resisted urge to laugh at him, he really thinks you're gonna be here for him? after everything? What a fool

You inhaled, his scent ten times in your lungs, well more of a mixture of salt, ash, dust, blood, sweat and if you focus enough a, colone

"your room is the same as always, bedding is the closet,clothing is as well , there is some leftovers in the fridge, do. Not. try and open any other room, they're not yours anymore" and with that you sealed you lips again

If he stilled before, now he froze, all tense

You stood back up, turned around and started walking to your lab

"lyla" you requested, the lighting figure appear within rhe second, face scrunched up and worried "yes y/n?"

"do help him if he asks, I'm done here" you almost added if asks nicely lyla turned to see that horrific sight, with a gasp, she turned towards you, but was cut off by his , repeated, quick, wet, inhales that only come with a scream as hurtful as death itself, been there, done that,

Before he reaches a range to let out a scream, you closed the lab's door and the sound proof walls done their job, having some homework to do and projects to work on.

Blocking a horrible, terrible, scream and grief and regret, tainted not by one, but four sets of blood, one still so warm and running down his skin as you breath when you closed the distance between you two, to throw ice at his boiling oil...

This took me almost 4 hours,short for my liking tbh

I think imma add a few more parts to this, to fully fefill the title's meaning, not sure tho, what yall think?

[prince-liest]

Your last 666 series installment is the best thing that happened to me. Its full of gore, somehow fluffy and wait-.. do I finally see some FRICKING COMUNICATION between the two idiots!?!?!

Ngl, Vox's 'Alastor not being able to love' statement hurt my soul. Your writing is brilliant and and let's just see what ending ya wro-..O MA LORD IS THAT VAL'S LOVE POTION!?!?!?!?

Now I need to know what's next!!!! And VOX I SWEAR IF U USE THIS SITUATION IN ANY WAY IM GOING TO SKIN YOU ALIVE.

This series is a blast♡ love it!♡ makes me weirdly passionate and excited hah!

Some communication, and some communication failure, hahaha. They're going to be talking a lot more in the next one, actually, because I meant to write some NSFW and they had to go and attempt a healthy conversation instead. What can you do.

Thank you so much, I'm delighted that you're enjoying! :D

And: Way more anon asks about the latest 666 getting answered under the cut! <3 I combined a bunch from the last couple of days.

prince, I'm going insane over the latest fic. so we know from Alastor's inner monologue that he knows the roofie was an accident, but considering the super stressful situation, the fact that Vox was the one to ask for a kiss and the fact that Alastor accused him of wanting instead of loving him not a few minutes ago…. makes me wonder if Vox might not be at least a little worred that Alastor might think it was on purpose <3 gonna be rotating this in my head for the foreseeable future - ✨

I am so glad that these things are on y'all's minds, hahaha. Because you can bet they are on mine. >:D And THANK YOU, very pleased to be dragging everyone down into insanity with me.

“Should I stitch together the scars your teeth left in me in a mirror of my own signature on your body.” Fucking. POETRY. 🐈‍⬛

I am always so happy when I write shit like this and instead of everyone pointing at me and going, "Look, what an EDGELORD!" the response is you people being VERY nice and leaning into the feelsy fun! 💛

holy moly ??? i love the new 666 addition aaaah 😭🙏 the trials and tribulations of feeling scorned and ghosted by a loser who confessed his love to you and the next time you see him he’s holding your LITERAL heart in his hands by alastor ! OMFG this was too good esp the part where vox is like “bro why do YOU CARE ?? i thought you didn’t love me huh?” and alastor is like well. maybe i.do. 😐 LIKE CMONN this really played out like some soap drama and i loved the neat details on resuscitative thoroctomy (learned a new word too so double bonus) the fact vel was on the line w her and val’s apparent surgeon for val’a little ‘incidents ??? GOLDEN I SAYY hope we see more of ur oc … 🫣🫣 btw ofc vox would love to an end an argument with a kiss OF FUCKING COURSE HE WOULD 😭 thank u sm for this chapter princeliest my dear <3 hope life is treating u well too !! -🦌

Vox is ahead of Alastor in terms of effective in-the-moment conflict resolution, but goddamn if he isn't fucked up in his own fun little ways. They're so not done with most of these issues, but at least they're on they're way to maybe be able to have a real conversation about them!

You know. If they chose to do that kind thing. Instead of whatever they will probably do instead.

Anyway, THANK YOU!! I had a great deal of fun writing this chapter and digging into some of the issues that have been slowly collecting underneath the surface of kinky radiostatic, so I'm happy you guys are enjoying as well!! :D

AS FOR MY OC... I WILL POST ABOUT THEM SOON. I LOVE THEM A LOT AND IT EXCITES ME THAT PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW MORE OF THEM. Tysm for asking Q^Q

Just read the new addition to the 666 verse, and inside of me are two wolves: The first is saying: Immaculate, artistry of the highest form. We finally get Alastor’s own confrontation with his vulnerability and him trying to figure out what exactly the relationship with Vox means to him. Cannot wait for how this all is going to develop. The other part of me: THE BREADCRUMBS WORKED THE MUSE IS WRITING!!! Followed by this image (since tumblr won’t let me attach it while being anonymous) https://i.redd.it/hx2shk642vs71.jpg -🕊️

LMAO THAT PIC. Amazing, flawless, thank you. The breadcrumbs DEFINITELY worked, please keep feeding. Digging into Alastor's shit is bringing me life and I'm happy to share it, hahaha. We're swinging even harder on the introspection in the next one!

As a sucker for medical gore and aroace angst, I lack the words to express my love and appreciation for your most recent installment of 666, but your writing of radiostatic's dynamic was captivating and proved to be such a lovely read as always! I loved that you touched on Alastor's relationships with the women around him as that has always been such an interesting aspect of his character to me! I never really put much thought into how Vox's apparent avoidance of Alastor in the show could mirror Alastor's disappearance, and now it will Not leave my mind. My heart hurts for these two dorks, super looking forward to chapter 2!

"Medical gore and aroace angst" should be the title of my memoir. Honestly, this series has ended up a lot more edgy-bloody than I expected it to, since I usually tend to prefer to portray my whump/angst/violence/etc in a much more roundabout way, but it's actually kinda tipped over into, like... part of the point is how banal it is, how beside the point. The upsetting heavy-hitting bits aren't the blood, they're everything else that goes on around it. Anyway, thank you so much! <3 I think your heart will find some relief in chapter two, haha, I hope you enjoy!!

Meanwhile alastor, completely convinced that there’s no situation where vox actually loves him and is happy with the way things are—either vox wants more and is going to start asking for more, or he doesn’t actually love him and just wants to have sex with him and thus either way he is a Liar. They’re so fucking bad at this. No one is capable of being the adult here. I think they need an auspitice.

It's really funny that you said that, because that is kind of exactly the role that [spoiler] ends up playing, though in a more roundabout way, hahaha. They certainly need someone to, like, get them to be having the same conversation with each other instead of two parallel ones. I think the fun thing about writing Alastor reacting to his own feelings is just how much his reaction can change based on how things are framed for him, and it leaves a lot of wiggle room for how differently I've ended up writing him reacting to the season 1 finale in 666 vs in Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy.

But, god, you really nailed the description of what Alastor is feeling. <3

Vox in the latest 666, my ENTIRE HEART. Literally nothing about how he read the situation was a bad take or a leap to conclusions, but alastor constantly says the opposite of what he means and refuses to admit vulnerability or friendship and what the hell else was vox meant to do with that, of course he backed off, they need to have this talk so badly

YES, PRECISELY! Like, I hope it came through that really neither of them was completely crazy to react the way they did! It's a result of how much of their communication has been nonverbal, implied, and talking around things - they'd been doing so well up until this point, but there's only so far that can take you before you start thinking that you're on the same page when really you're reading two completely different books! Thank you sm! <3

‘But I am capable,” Alastor says gently. “I love you very much.” Vox gapes up at him. “...I. Fuck you.” His voice is tight, strained. “I don’t fucking believe you.” Alastor feels his smile thin. “Well. That’s just dandy, then, isn’t it?”’ I AM NOT OK GOING FUCKING FERAL

Probably one of my favorite lines to write, ehehehe. THANK YOU ANONNNN <3 It's kinda interesting to see how differently some people read this. Some folks thought Alastor was saying it to hurt Vox (which is how Vox read it). Some folks thought it was true (how Alastor intended it). Some folks thought Alastor was trying to fit into the mold that he thought Vox wanted from him (how I intended it). All of them make sense as readings! >:)

[pyrrhicpaths]

@stonecoldmeme​ || x

“Right.”  And Prompto of all people is eager to help.  He just kind of needs some instruction on that.  A direction to go, somewhere to put his energy!  And maybe ways to actually be helpful instead of just.  Flailing uselessly at the whole helpfulness thing.

Maybe he’s likely to do a little of that, regardless.  “The whole, like… needing to warn him about real sudden and close danger, though.  Is waving my arms enough, or..?”  He demonstrates with a little less urgency than the way he’d be moving if there were a life of death emergency, but he hopes he still gets the point across with arms outstretched and waving in wide arcs over his head.  Just being able to yell things across the battlefield had its benefits, but when that wasn’t possible…

Iris nods at his signaling. "That’s sure to get his attention, yeah! But if you want to be specific about 'danger', there’s this sign for it.” The back of her open hands raise to either of her temples, thumbs flicking out middle fingers just once. 

She does think it’s pretty useful, learning sign language-- would be especially helpful for long-distance communication on the field or while hiding from daemons. 

“What other ones d’you wanna learn before I bore you with the basics?” She gives a sheepish chuckle after hearing her own words. “I mean. If you wanna keep learning more, anyway. Didn’t mean to force you to take lessons on your one day off-- ‘cause I can lend you the book, if you wanna take your time on it?”

[tangerinesgirl]

Kinktober 2024 - October 15th

Hair Pulling // Glory Hole // Teasing

Matthew Crawley x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+, mature

Word count: 600>

Warnings: fluff (am I feeling okay)

Notes: short but sweet one today! No sex in this one but I've rated it 18+ anyways as 1) no minors should interact with my blog or kinktober, and 2) there are some mature themes still as reader seduces Matthew.

Kinktober List || Masterlist || AO3

Entering the library, you're greeted to Matthew nose deep in a law book, looking very comfortable in an armchair next to the warm, crackling fire. Swinging your arms around, you huff and puff out of boredom.

"Y/N, can you please stop."

"But I'm boreddd."

Matthew rolls his eyes, "Then grab a book or something."

All he ever does lately is read up on his law books. You think he deserves a break... you both deserve a break. The house was skeleton crew today, since everyone was at the manor house up in Scotland. Matthew decided to stay here as he had a few upcoming meetings. So naturally, you decided to stay with him.

You've already read most the books here, but you decide to join him and pick up a book regardless, just grateful for the company.

You start reading the spines when one catches your eye; The Complete Works of E.E. Cummings. An idea springs into your mind as you decide to have a bit of fun with Matthew.

You plonk yourself down into an armchair across the room and flick to one of your favourite poems in the leatherbound book. The smell of old paper wafting from the pages. You loved it in here, Matthew clearly does too, spending many days and nights in this room.

Your mind snaps back to reality, remembering the plan to relieve Matthew from his law abiding duties. Clearing your throat, you start to read the poem out loud.

"May I feel, said he", you enunciate each word, they roll off your tongue like liquid velvet.

"Y/N, please."

"I'll squeal, said she."

"I'm trying to wor-"

"Just once, said he. It's fun, said she."

You pause a while, waiting for Matthew to settle back down. Then, you get up out of the chair and walk over towards Matthew, heels clattering on the wooden floor. Your fingers trail down his arm.

"May I touch, said he."

You grab his book out of his hand and close it. He attempts to speak but you close them with your index finger in a "shh" motion on his lips. The book clatters to the floor as you throw it out of the way. You lean into his left hand side, lips ghosting around his ear.

"How much, said she."

The hair on his arms start to stand up on end before you start to straddle Matthew's lap. He looks at you longingly as his hands wander around your hips, cementing you in place.

"A lot, said he."

Matthew starts to move his head towards you, going in for a kiss. You move your head slightly towards him, when you change your mind at the last second and move backwards away from the kiss.

Matthew glares at you, raising an eyebrow. You smile at his reaction, seeing how quickly he melts for you. The man is besotted. He meets your gaze, when he snatches the book out of your hand in return, also throwing it to the floor.

He gets up out of his chair, holding you tightly to his chest. You can hear the sound of your dress ruffling as Matthew grips hold of your lower back, the underskirt tangling up in his fingers. Your legs wrap around his waist giving him a helping hand.

Matthew effortlessly carries your weight out of the library. Closing the door with his foot, he starts walking up the stairs towards the bedroom. Your head resting on his shoulders, grabbing his back for stability. Matthew spins you around when you reach the door, you giggle as he does so catching you off guard. He manages to open it with one hand.

"Why not, said she", Matthew finishes the poem verse. His voice deep and full of lust, as the two of you finally kiss.

[sugarywishes]

Considering the age they grew up in, I figured I may as well ask: What were the Afton Family's favourite movies & video games of the era? Naturally I'm mostly asking around the 80's, although I will be happy to hear about how they changed as time went on (and games in particular improved) as well...

I think the only ones who would even enjoy video games are the kids, Clara and William seem too 'old school' to understand them 💀💀, but anyway, on with the questions! Answers below as usual.

I'm gonna mix things around and start with Evan! I can definitely see him as an animated movie enjoyer, so I think Disney and Warner Bros and other such studios would be his favorites (although most of the stuff the companies put out during the time kinda stinked...sorry about the poor catalog of choices Evan) His favorite animated movie would probably be Cinderella, he totally understands her. For live action movies, he has a lot less options since the movies around his time were a bit scarier than the ones we have today. I guess I can see him liking the Muppets movies? It's the only franchise I can think of that wouldn't scare him with special effects or violence or anything like that. (I'm not too well versed in any media that's not from my time lmao, any suggestions would help) He prefers the world of animated TV shows than he does movies, Fredbear and Friends was his favorite, but he enjoyed others as well!

For video games, I don't see him playing them a lot actually. William probably disapproves of his kids messing around with video games so he doesn't let them near them (despite the fact that his restaurant had an arcade, of course the kids would get access to them bro!) Evan I think would like Pac Man! Very generic 80s video game I know, but tons of kids loved it, including him! Maybe he would also play Pole Position and Galaca? Or Frogger or Circus?? I dunno, just think of any tame/kid-ish and kinda repetive games, and Evan would probably like them.

Okay now moving onto his brother (pre bite, I'm gonna start clarifying which version of Mike I'll be talking about from now on since pre bite and post bite Mike are basically two different people personality wise) Mikey is *COOL* and *EDGY* and *NOT A BABY!!* So you can expect his favorites to be pretty intense! He is a huge action and horror fan (he kinda forced himself to like horror in an attempt to look cooler for his friends) I think Halloween, Carrie, The Outsiders and Night of The Living Dead would be his top picks, maybe also Star Wars, but he'd rather die than let anyone know he liked the movies. For Post-Bite Michael, he only watched, you guessed it, The Immortal And The Restless! It brought him a little bit of comfort when uh...everything was going on, he developed a big interest in romance movies (if only he had a romance himself...) But as time went by (yk post scoop when he was stuck indoors for a while) he just started watching *whatever* to pass his miserable days, he basically became a couch potato for a little bit.

Okay so um now to video games, Post-Bite Mike didn't play video games at all after that, but pre-bite Mike, that's a whole nother story! This man was on the gaming grind, from Wizards of Wor to Space Invaders to Robotron to...whatever video games were popular with teens at the time I suppose! (He tried begging his mom to let him keep an arcade machine in his room, but he already had a TV in there, why would he need more?) (And plus there was like no room in there)

Onto Elizabeth! She had a collection of "girl" movies she owned like The Last Unicorn and Grease (she would've died for HSM if it came out during the 70s/80s) and things like that (although she usually preferred going outdoors than she did watching movies and stuff, so her collection would just collect dust mkst of the time, unless Evan wanted to watch some of it, which he did!) Her favorite movie was probably between Footloose or E.T (wow, those are some choices girl, she probably likes E.T because Charlie really liked it) She also enjoys a plethora of animated movies and TV too, if she knew what anime was back then she would've been an avid Candy Candy and Rose of Versailles fan, she liked drama too okay? (As a matter of fact Mike probably developed his like of drama because of her)

For video games, I don't think she would play a lot of those. She did her best to obey her father's rules so she stayed away from them as best as she could (One day she got to play Dragon's Lair with Charlie and Mike, she really enjoyed it because of the visuals!) But I guess she has no favorite because she didn't play them at all.

Now onto Clara, her favorite types of movies were drama and tragedies, her favorite movie was Eyes Without a Face (I think it would count as a horror movie but I don't really consider it one tbh) and maybe Family Secrets? It reminded her a lot of her old family and she sometimes imagines that maybe she'd be able to reconcile with them one day (Well, that never happened!) But she also enjoyed artsy movies, she just understood them to a deeper level than most would. As I said before, she did not play video games because she didn't care to.

Now finally, William. I see him as the kind of guy to not even watch movies or TV shows. He is straight up BORINGGG. (He will of course watch anything Evan asks him to watch with him, for the sake of his dearest son 🤧) I know there are people who headcanon him to like horror movies because they're violent and scary and he's also violent and scary, but I personally think he finds horror movies weird and annoying. (Nothing can compare to true murder and fear in his eyes) The closest thing to a favorite movie (genre) are 'humanoid object possession' movies (by humanoid object I mean like dolls or mannequins or wax figures, stuff like that) it reminds him of a few certain possessed robots...

He doesn't like video games because he absolutely sucks ass at them.