#this deleted scene kills me. look at his FACE look at his EYES why they deleted this I will never understand

[nikki-rook]

You think you're gonna have all the time in the world... but nobody does - 3x13 (deleted scene) / 4x20 x

[angelsdean]

*record scratch* freeze frame. Reality Check. "You're the one who came and got me at school. You're the one who dragged me back into this." let's re-evaluate that statement, Sam, because that is not, in fact, what happened.

The context in which Sam makes this statement is that he's arguing Dean used to care about the revenge quest and killing the demon because Dean is the one that came and got Sam and thus "dragged him back" into the quest to kill the demon. But, that is not why Dean went to get Sam at school, it was to find John, who was missing and possibly dead. Dean didn't even Know about the demon at this point (they don't find out that "the thing that killed mom" is a demon til 1x11) or that John was closing in on it. Dean goes to Stanford to ask Sam to help him look for John, that's it. Then, at the end of 1x01 Dean brings Sam back to school in time for his interview as promised, and drives away. He only turns around when, in the deleted scene, he notices his watch has stopped, cluing him in that something is wrong. And he gets there in time to save Sam from the burning building.

Sam then makes the choice to leave with Dean because now that he's lost someone, he is personally invested in finding John because John knows more about the thing that killed Mary (and now Jess) than anyone, and Sam is the one who is now consumed by the need for revenge and the first step in getting that revenge is finding John, something he had no vested interest in doing before, but is now heavily invested in, even more than Dean is, as we see throughout the first half of s1 where Sam is often the one calling around looking for John and is more interested in searching for John than taking on random cases.

Anyways, it's just so interesting to track this revisionism of events and how both Sam and Dean come to accept this as the truth when it's literally not what we saw happen throughout the season. And we see Dean start to absorb this belief after Meg plants the seed in their heads in 1x16, trying to drive a wedge between them, by falsely saying Dean "drags Sam around like luggage" when literally the whole reason Sam and Meg meet is because Sam wanted to part ways in 1x11 and Dean let him go. Sam then comes back and decides to stay all on his own, even after Dean offers to drop Sam off somewhere.

Dean expresses in 1x16, that yes, he wants Sam around, he wants his family together again, but at the end of that very episode Dean is also the one who says they need to split up from John, even though it's the last thing he wants. Dean consistently is willing to let people go, even if it's not what he personally wants. And especially Sam. Over and over throughout the season he expressed how he wants Sam to have a normal life, is willing to let Sam go, or stay in some random town and drop the search for John. So even IF Dean did secretly want Sam to stick around when he went to get Sam at Stanford, he never expected it. Never enforced it.

That Sam comes to think Dean "dragged him back" into hunting is a purely revisionism and a bit of projection, I think, because Sam might not want to face the truth of the matter which is that he consistently chose to stick with hunting, and actually enjoys it more than he'd like to admit. And, as both he and John express, this quest to kill Yellow Eyes becomes "their" obsession. Not Dean's. Dean is the one who says he'd rather they never find the demon if it means losing his family. Dean is the one that says getting revenge isn't worth dying for. And then, Sam takes this to heart, when at the end of 1x22 he refuses to kill John Possessed by Azazel at Dean's pleading, AND when he tells John that killing this demon does not come "before everything" while eyeing Dean bleeding out in the backseat.

Dean was never the one invested in revenge. He did not come get Sam from Stanford to aid in the family revenge quest, he came for help in finding their missing father, something Dean cared abt simply because that's family, and Dean cares deeply, despite everything John put them through. Dean is the one that cares, the heart of the narrative, etc etc. He comes to Sam because he is alone in the world, because their only other blood relative is missing, because it's a very human thing, to reach out, to want family around. And still, he was always going to let Sam go after the 1x01. He didn't like it. It's not what Dean wanted. But he was going to let him go back to his life. Sam chose to follow Dean and continue searching for John.

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 8)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 📍 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦

Part 8 - Trust

Detective Brady is sharper than you initially thought, though Alastor is (seemingly) unfazed by the threat. While you both explore the idea of ‘home’ a familiar face shows up at your apartment.

「Warnings/Tags: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, Detective Brady exists a lot and maybe too much, fingering lol, phone calls, almost our first fight, stress, Disney mom rule, Ruth is pretty alright for now, Brenda」

forgot to tag you in the deleted scene for TRDFAHS

M👻D☠️N👽I😈

Your mother always said ‘Anger is your sword and shield’. So you postured yourself as someone mad. One hip out, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“Sir I don’t appreciate a man in a lady’s space.”

Brady bit his tongue, wanting to say something sharp.

 I don’t see any ladies here.

 He met the glares of the women behind you. “Ah, well-,”

“Do you really expect her to leave in her robe?”

“Aren’t you the man whose been stalking her?”

“Autumn I’ll go with you.”

“You want her to get into a strange man’s car?”

He felt like a fox about to be pecked to death by the hens.

“Now-! Alright I’m seeing I maybe,” he set your shoes down and slid past you and between the other performers, “got a little eager to speak to you.”

“Does Janet know you like to hang around burlesquers?” Someone said as his back was turned.

Like having ice water poured over his head, his shoulders tensed as did his tone. “I’ll be right out the door.”

You tried to hide the tremble in your hands, but failed. Ruth slid beside you, “What do you need?”

A phone. But the cord wouldn’t reach that far. You wanted to tell Alastor. You needed him to know that detective had you cornered and knew of his existence.

“Could you stay with me? I’m not going anywhere. But I’ll feel safer if I’m not talking to him alone. In case he tries to drag me out. He seems a little off his rocker.” You were genuinely scared he would grab you by the arm and pull you out of the theater if he didn’t think anyone would see. 

She patted your back, the others filing in to continue with their work of getting dressed and undressed. You took your time, trying to plan what you would say.

Brady felt an embarrassed blush take hold as the women moved past him with scowls and tsks. He could feel a little bit of his sanity slip back now that you were in front of him. 

“I have some questions about Tommy. I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks. We can head down now.”

Oddly, your mother also taught you, ‘You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’ 

She didn’t always make a lot of sense, contradicting herself daily. 

Time to use the tried and true tactic, “I am sorry, detective. I had some trouble recently and have been keeping to myself… going home as soon as possible. Just trying to keep my nose clean. So to speak.”

Brady watched you look up at him with a face his daughter often gave him when she was in trouble. But you weren’t a child and you surely weren’t his daughter. “That’s no excuse to dodge me.”

Your turn to bite your tongue, “Of course, sir.”

Ruth was… confused. She’d never seen you so obedient. You had more venom in your voice after taking a hit from Tommy knowing a third could be close behind. Why were you being so small?

“Are you ready to go?” He fished in his pocket for his car door keys. 

Ruth felt the need to interject, “She’s not going anywhere.”

Perfect.

You nodded, “I won’t be out at night, sir. You know better than most about the dangers.” Your dangers. Your darling Alastor.

“No, no no,” an unhinged chuckle from the fraying detective, “You’re not slipping away again. I have my car, I’ll take you there and bring you home.”

Ruth looked to you, then back to the detective, “Is she under arrest?”

Brady rolled his eyes, “Of course not.”

“Then? What gives you the right?”

Technically, nothing. He didn’t need to talk to you. His lead still stood. But maybe you’d slip and say something to expedite his search for the radio man. Maybe this would only end with Tommy. But he felt something tickling the back of his skull. An urge to not stop pushing.

“I’ll meet you at the station tomorrow morning. Is it the address on the card you gave me?” Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn’t. You just needed him gone so you could call Alastor. 

He was shaking his notebook, key looped onto his finger. A nervous habit. “You still have my card?”

A smile, “Of course. In case any news came up. I’d have called but I didn’t realize you were so worked up.”

He scoffed. He wasn’t worked up. He was just annoyed. Maybe a little rougher in demeanor than usual but whose fault was that?

“If you don’t turn up tomorrow-,”

Ruth, taller than most women and some men and wide at the shoulders, leaned in.

Brady’s eyeline adjusted from yours to Ruth’s. Skye Scraper wasn’t just a pun, it was a cruel nickname she took ownership of. “Finish that sentence.”

The conversation ended there, Brady leaving with a huff.

You’d memorized the number the night Alastor gave it to you, too scared to write it down. He warned you though he wouldn’t be the one to answer.

“Is Alastor still there?” You tried to smile so you sounded less panicked. Ruth mouthed his name and pretended to swoon as you held the phone close to your ear. 

“Uhh depends, who is this?” Brenda answered, a voice you’d never heard but a woman Alastor had primed you for. 

“….”, but why hadn’t you thought through this part, what name was safe? Which was recognizable? You didn’t like the idea of this woman knowing your name. “Tell him it’s Autumn.”

“….” 

You laughed at Ruth, waiting still for a reply from Brenda, “Hello?”

“Is this a crank? Autumn like the season? I-,” a commotion, “Hey there! No. I don’t know. Well it’s past hours anywa-.”

Alastor was lying across Brenda’s desk to reach the phone, having wrestled it from the woman’s grip, “I’m here. What’s wrong? I was about to leave.”

“I’ll walk home tonight.” It hurt, physically hurt, to say it.

Alastor tried to keep his face neutral, “Oh.” Nervous fingers twirling the cord, “One second.” 

Harsh whispers, some clicks, and he was back, “I’m in my office. What happened?”

“Yeah Ruth is with me. It’s okay. I’ll call you like normal tomorrow?” 

“Should I swing by your apartment?” He considered doing it regardless of your answer.

“Ah, no. I wouldn’t recommend it. I’ll be heading to the police station early tomorrow so I’ll be asleep as soon as I’m flat.” Putting your hand over the receiver, you spoke to Ruth, “Thank you, we got it figured out.”

His heart sank to his stomach, “Did he finally manage to catch you?”

“Yeah. Or—-,” your voice cracked a little, the fear rolling in as soon as Ruth walked away, “Yeah.”

“I’m coming over to the theater.”

Cupping the phone you curved your shoulders in and turned away from the staff milling about, “Don’t, that’s worse.” Tears stung your eyes. You felt like you’d failed him. You had somehow, hadn’t you? The loose thread Brady could grab ahold of was you.

“If you can’t come to the alley I’ll leave after a couple minutes. But I’ll be there in twenty, same time as our normal pick up.”

“Alastor, that’s reckless.”

“Please, dear, I don’t want our first fight to be over my work line.” A calming breath, “You don’t have to meet me, but I’ll be there. Just five minutes, then I’ll be off.”

You decided the safest thing to do was to wait in the alley. If you saw any signs of Brady or anyone coming out, you’d go back inside and just miss the meeting. But the idea of Alastor being just beyond the wall, waiting all alone, was too much.

But how much harder would it be if the wall was of the prison? Or worse, dense earth under your feet? That’s what Brady was wanting. 

You hadn’t realized you’d been chewing your nails until his car turned down the alley from the back and you tore off much of the length of your thumbnail.

Your arms were thrown around him before he was fully out of the car, “Alastor, he knows I have a guy. He wanted me to go down right now but I managed to push it to tomorrow.” Alastor tried to decipher the words as you spoke them into his vest, “What do I do?”

Normally you’d have your own plans in mind but this was too big, this was capable of hurting him more than anyone else. 

He smelled like ink and smoke, a scent you inhaled as you tried to calm your breath.

A large hand patted your head, “Okay. You go tomorrow. It’ll be fine. Don’t stress.” Pulling you off he placed chaste kisses across your face. “Think about what you want to say to him and we can talk it out in the morning. Everything is fine.”

The reality of you standing in a dirty alley crying into the arms of a murderer set in. Then the little detail you were both killers creeped over your chest and took hold of your throat.

He was impressed at the strength of your hands as you gripped at his clothes. Leaning against the car, he offered you his most charming smile.

“Deep breaths, dear. Do I look scared?”

He didn’t. He looked like a magazine ad for French cologne or razor blades that left the softest skin. 

“No.” You shook your head.

“No.” He nodded. “It’ll be okay. If you don’t go, he will hound you worse. If you do go, maybe he’ll realize he’s got a handful of nothing.”

His smile blinded you. Bright grin as he rested against his car, arms open. 

“Do you really think so? A handful of nothing?”

“Did he say my name?”

“No.”

“Did he–” he elongated the word, lips pursed as he searched the sky for his next words, “have Tommy’s body?”

You laughed, morbid but preposterous, “I didn’t pat him down. Coulda.” 

Alastor snapped his fingers, “We’ll have to just assume he didn’t.” A moment of tension. The act of joking barely traversing the space between your bodies let alone reaching the stress under your skin. His hands came to your shoulders; firm, secure. “Did you want to have that fight now? About me coming over here.”

You rolled your eyes, obviously not. “Ala-,” you started and stopped.

“I’ll admit I’m being reckless but I think we can both agree my way is more fun.” Smile sliding into a smirk, he cocked his head and lowered it to get back into your line of sight. When you stuck your tongue out he took a deep breath in, relief. “Are you sure I can’t take you home?”

To which home, you wondered. He used the word so casually and interchangeably…

Face close to yours. Eyes solely on you. Perhaps the stage wasn’t as necessary as you’d once thought. Lips on lips, the feeling of his smile spreading as he returned the kiss. A second of panic as you realized you couldn’t see or hear or sense what else was happening anymore in the alley. Brady could have had you in handcuffs and you wouldn’t be the wiser. Not as long as Alastor’s mouth was moving over yours.

“I’ll call in the morning.” He said into your exhale.

You hadn’t opened your eyes yet. Not ready to return to earth. A pout from you. A chuckle from him. “I’ll be waiting,” You finally said. 

While you did your waiting, shuffling around the theater and later tossing around in bed, Alastor fell into a different kind of purgatory.

One he hadn’t realized he’d made for himself until you weren’t there. 

The house was quiet, almost eerie. Even with music on he found himself nearly uncomfortable. He shifted several times in his chair while reading, not finding any way to settle in. 

His bed was lopsided. Suddenly one side was too light. Multiple times his hand slid under the sheets in search of you out of habit. 

What a terrible feeling; to want someone. To know you could have them but they just… weren’t there.

It didn't make any sense. He knew he’d see you soon, in less than a day's time even. He typically enjoyed his home and its silence. Being alone was predictable and therefore comforting. Well, it had been. Before you. 

The feeling in his chest, akin to a magnet tugging through his sternum toward a distant partner, didn’t abate.

Only when he heard your voice again over the phone did he find a sliver of peace.

“I’ve decided I’ll deny I have a guy. And, I’ll never tell him about you. It’s safer if he never connects us.”

Alastor was listening, honestly, but he wasn’t really processing. His mind was worried about something else. The detective genuinely didn’t bother him but he had to agree, “I suppose that’s best. As long as we can manage it, to not let him know we’re together.”

Together.

You were together with him. An item. How spectacular you must be to be a part of anything with him.

But for how long? With a certain detective breathing down your neck…, “I’m scared. Actually.”

You could hear the smile in Alastor’s breath, it was odd but eased you. 

“He will never have enough to convict us. He’ll drive himself crazy trying. Trust me.” He soothed. 

Did you have any choice? “Okay. You’re right. I trust you.” Unequivocally so. 

He cleared his throat, “Sorry to change the subject…”

“Please.”

“I want you to come over again tonight. What do you think?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course, don’t even need to ask. I’ll always say yes.” All you needed to do was get through Brady and you’d be home.

But for Alastor, well, he wasn’t done asking the question. A moment of panic from a place unrecognized in his brain, fear of losing himself entirely. But what good was a safe harbor if he never ventured out to sea? That’s just a restraint then, isn’t it? 

Maybe you held a place for him even richer in its comforts than his solitude.

So he let himself drift away from familiar shores, no sails and no compass, “I think it’d be smart to bring over a couple sets of clothes. I can keep them washed and always here for you. Would that be alright?” He had wanted to suggest it while together, but Brady was ruining more than his sleep.

Oh.

The same silence from when he first extended the invitation, the deja vu not lost on you. You struggled to decipher the second meaning you were sure was there. Maybe he didn't know what he had asked. 

“I know it’s boring out in the boonies but, you’re welcome to just stay over while I go to work. I can come back and get you for rehearsals… I’ll enjoy the clubs or come back and make something for a late dinner for us, and bring you home when you’re done.”

He said it. He hadn’t really meant to, so he felt the need to clarify, but you also needed him to clarify just as quickly, “I -,”

“Did you me-?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“No I interrupted you-,”

“Not at all pl-,”

“Alastor for the love of God please don’t make me keep talking right now.” You lightly knocked your head with the phone a few times. Your heart was gasping for an ounce of understanding.

He chuckled, glad you were still very much yourself, “I meant, take you home as in, away from work. So, here. Or, there, if you’d prefer.” His face scrunched up, this wasn’t a conversation he had any practice in, “Anywhere really. I’ll drive you anywhere.”

“Alabama?”

He looked at the phone as if you were in it. Alabama? 

“Like— the first time you asked me over.” You added quickly. A terrible joke, a bad callback that made it painfully obvious you committed everything he said to memory.

Alastor rested his cheek on the dining table, laughing into the wood before bringing the receiver back. You always offered him an out of uncomfortable situations, “Well the offer still stands. I'd be willing to even venture at least halfway across Texas.” 

“The best half of Texas is on our side so that’s a generous offer. But, given our work schedules, I think your house would be much better. Time wise.” 

He let his eyes close as he felt the coldness of the wood, “Is that a yes then? To bringing over a couple of items… for ease.” Was it a mistake? Would he regret it? 

You were worth regrets. He had decided. He wanted you to say yes.

The weight of what he was asking wasn’t lost on you an ounce. You could see your window from the phone booth. You took great pride in your little apartment. It was your space and no one else’s. As a child you struggled to have your own anything, so you valued your home. 

But could you call any place so far from Alastor a home?

It’s just a few items. You weren’t giving up your lease. It’s a baby step. One you could easily walk back if you needed to later. It’s not like you hadn’t spent every night possible already since that first offer.

“Yes.” 

It was a plan that took your mind off cops. Have your interrogation, go home, then go home for a relaxing evening of jazz and drink.

The levity ended though the second you hung up the receiver. An obstacle between you and him still stood. You pulled out your bag but couldn’t find the will to pack it. Your hands were too busy as you chewed on your thumbnail again.

Brady noticed the uneven length when you sat down and set your hands on the table.

“Surprised you showed.” He opened his notebook and readied his pencil. “First things first, what is your legal name?”

A chill. You’d gotten your warning the night before to prepare something to say but ignored it. Your mind was flipping through words and images. Piercing all of it were the white reflective eyes of the deer along the road. You decided to lean into what you knew. 

“Autumn.”

“Really? Never heard the name Autumn before.”

“Me either. Made for an easy stage name.”

“I’ll need to see your birth records, just to be sure.”

You sucked your teeth. “Ah, unfortunately…all that stuff was left behind with my mom when I moved.”

“And where can I find her?

“Corner of North Villere street and Piety.”

“And your address?”

You paused. His eyes rose and met yours. The radiant aqua from the cafe morning was now an icy color. “I don’t give my address out. You know where I work.”

“But you’re fine giving me your mother’s address? That’s cold.”

“Not as cold as she is, I’m sure of that.”

“Fine, I’ll find it in the census records.” He flipped the page, “Tell me about the dates Tommy arranged.” He tapped his notepad on the table like it was the starting bell of a fight.

You wished Alastor was with you, but also wished he would never enter that station. “Apparently many of the dancers agreed, got a cut. I had no idea about it until he,” you remembered the man and his ugly tie, “introduced me to a man who was very forward. I insulted him and ran off. Lost Tommy good money, apparently.”

“And who was that?”

You searched your memory, “S something. Mister Stein? I honestly wasn’t listening much after I realized what was happening.”

Brady nodded, “And then he knocked you around?”

You winced without meaning too, “Yeah. Got me good.”

Brady waited for you to continue talking, but you had learned this game. People know silence is uncomfortable and will use that against you. So you let the silence stay. Let the awkward tension build. You had limited time, he knew that.

He caved first. “And… the next date. Last time anyone saw Tommy. Tell me about that.”

Lying was second nature to you. You had killed for Alastor. You could do this. Deep breaths, slink into yourself. You imagined Alastor choked on the park grounds, wet and unmoving. Imagined him cold to the touch.

“Tommy said he’d kill me if I didn’t go. So I did. Promised me he’d stay with me for protection.” Tears welled. Bloody hands and a large rock. “But as soon as he got his money he left.” 

Brady was writing, “And the man? What was his name.”

“Something foreign. Kerr-something. Or Car?”

He looked up slightly, “You’re pretty terrible at names.”

You wiped away your tears, “I had more pressing concerns at the time than trying to remember that man’s name. I was hoping I’d never need to know it.”

Brady hummed, “Yeah. And what did your beau think of this?”

Did you hide it? The flash of panic that rolled under the flesh of your face, “If I had a beau Tommy wouldn’t have made me do that. He said that himself.”

“Too bad he’s not here to confirm.”

“If he was we wouldn’t be having this conversation, detective.”

“Touché. Clever little lady aren’t you?”

Fuck.

You shifted slightly in your seat, looking downward in an attempt at being bashful. “That’s kind to say.”

“So why did,” he flipped through his book, “Beth say you stopped singin’ on Sundays cuz of your radio boyfriend?”

“Ah,” a weak laugh to hide the way your breath got sucked in with panic. The words ‘radio boyfriend’ punched the air from your lungs. “You must mean the rake. Took me for a ride at a club corner and sent me off in a cab to never see me again. Didn’t know he was in radio though.” 

“Well now you’re lying and I don’t appreciate it one ounce ma’am.“

“What?”

“Beth says he’s been coming to your shows for nearly half a year.”

No acting necessary for this part. “What are you talking about? I met him at a club. We arranged a date and he picked me up at—“

“Beth’s dive.”

“…. Yeah. Well.” He’d been there before? So often? And you never noticed…, “That’s news to me, that he had been there for so long, it’s got its regulars though so...” You shifted again, this time with a clear uncomfortable edge. 

“He stopped coming when you stopped singing.”

“….guess he got what he wanted then. A fun time in the swing hall bathroom.”  Anger. Unreal and unfounded. Trying your best to hide how confused you were.

“Sounds like a stalker, miss. Maybe one who woulda been quite unhappy to hear you were selli-,”

You cut him off, eyes snapping up to meet his, “I really recommend you reconsider your wording.”

Brady laughed with a huff, “A man dizzy with a dame can do some funny stuff. Especially if he hears she’s in a pickle.”

“Well, no knight coming to rescue me. I’ve sworn off men. It’s why I’ve been leaving work early. Getting home, reading, sleeping. He really did a number on my heart and my pride as a woman.”

Brady’s pencil stopped moving. 

“And his name?”

You’d never fucking say it. He could walk in on you moaning ‘Alastor’ and you’d still act like you’d never heard that string of syllables in your life. 

“John.”

Brady laughed and tossed the pencil to the table, “Let me guess, last name Doe?”

You shrugged, “We weren’t on a full name basis. He was handsome, he took me out, we fucked, I never saw him again” You delighted in the way his face screwed up at your unladylike language. 

“So, someone in radio named John. You know I’m going to be at every broadcaster talking to every John, right?” The nervous shaking of his notebook again. 

“When you find him let me know.”

“Oh I will.” He said it so quickly, so sharply you could feel it cut at your cheek as the words flew past you.

You pulled your hands into your lap, eyes firmly locked on Brady’s. “You look tired, sir. I hope my answers will help you. So you can rest.”

“I am tired. Of people jerking me around. You won’t give me your address, you don’t remember anyone’s name, not even your own, and you deny having a man I know you have.”

If you screamed would he have you committed? “I’m terribly sorry,” you leaned over the table and pulled a piece of fuzz off his shoulder, “my friend gave you inaccurate and dated information. I am genuinely trying to help as much as I can.”

Upon closer inspection, his eyes were more than just blue. They were dark and light, deep and shallow. Blue so far down it was nearly black. A blue so bright it was a cousin of white. Eyes you were sure would haunt you. 

“Help me then, Autumn.” Your brows rose at the request. He leaned back and away from you, “Just tell me what happened to Tommy. What your guy did. If he was trying to protect your name then we could find a sympathetic jury.”

Sympathy? Your smile was too wide, stare gone too soft. What sympathy did he have or would anyone have for you? Did he think you wanted the tender hearts of strangers? “Tommy ran off with a bag of money. He was a good man with a bad habit. That’s all I know. I have no partner, man or otherwise.”

A standstill. 

Brady felt a twitch in his hands he wasn’t used to. An itch to move. Unlike him, and a little frightening. 

Maybe he had been running himself ragged. 

Back sliding down slightly in his chair, he laced his fingers and rested them in his lap, “You know I’m gonna find out what happened, right?” His tone had shifted to something serious and calm. He said it like he was telling you a secret. Low but firm. Steady and sure. 

Those eyes. No, worse. What was behind them. You could see it clearly; unflappable determination. He absolutely would. 

“I trust you will.” A moment of silence again as you both felt the conversation die. As you stood, Brady did too.

“I wasn’t bluffing about him going to Beth’s for more than half a year now. I don’t know how you think this is gonna end but it won’t end pretty. Whether it was just your boss or all the others on my desk, end it with him and help us bring Tommy home to his mother.”

You adjusted your purse on your shoulder, “I don’t know how many time-,”

“Autumn. I’ve seen enough make up covered bruises to clock em from across the room. That’s the act of a possessive, immature man. Just think about what I said,” You opened the door in an effort to keep your hands from shooting to your neck. “There’s no white picket fence or church bells for you two. He’s a bad man. I think he may even be an evil man. You’re gonna end up hurt, or dead.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest but you managed to stifle it. With an honest smile you replied, “We’re all gonna end up dead someday, Detective. I’ll call if I have any news. Thanks for your concern and … evident hard work.” You offered a little nod of your head before leaving the room and the station as quickly as you could without running. 

When he set down his notebook after returning to his desk, he couldn’t sit. Energy was buzzing in his limbs. He needed to run or swing or pace.

His desk neighbor watched him immediately pick up the notebook again and grab his hat. A few other men shared a glance as Brady rushed out, an unsettling feeling passed among them. 

“He’s still on that case?” One asked quietly, going back to his papers.

“Not officially….” Answered Freeman, standing at the window and watching Brady flag down a taxi.

“North Villere street and Piety, please.” He told the driver, not noticing his friend in the window.

It wasn’t near the station, nor the dance scene. He wondered if your mother would be any more amiable. What kind of woman would raise such a creature as you?

When the car slowed, Brady clicked back into his surroundings. He looked through every window hoping to see something different.

After a long pause the cabbie asked, “Ya gonna get out?”

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the seat. “No. Take me back to the station.”

His blood pressure rose so quickly he was sure he would black out as the cab turned around and drove back past the sign; Vincent DePaul cemetery.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Alastor kissed away the worries when he took your bag from you. Every detail of the interview was just hummed away. “Even if he finds me, without a body he has no case.” He reminded you like it was nothing short of fact.

“What if he gets one?”

“Not one of mine, I can assure you. He’d sooner need to kill someone himself and call it my fault.” A pause, was that something the detective would do? He shook off the thought. 

He was so confident that even though you knew it was just skin deep it still gave you a sense of calm. The bodies, where they went after he was done with them in the greenhouse, was the last step he hadn’t shared with you.

There was one thing you didn’t mention about the interrogation. 

You waited until you were a few drinks in, Alastor’s bowtie off and shirt unbuttoned several buttons before bringing it up. Uncharacteristically nervous about how he’d react when you broached the topic, you needed several deep breaths to get up your courage. Normally the idea of offending a man with an honest question wouldn’t ruffle you a bit, but once again there was nothing normal about you and Alastor. He made you so unlike yourself but not necessarily worse. Perhaps some consideration of other’s reactions wasn’t a bad thing. 

“This is awkward to ask.” It was dark already, the sun setting earlier and earlier. The buzz of the kitchen light could be heard through the screen door, the light just enough to let you see each other's features clearly. Leaning back on both hands for support, your legs rested in an unladylike spread down the porch stairs. No shoes. No girdle. No pretense.

Would he be mad? Or maybe offended?

“Brady said you had been going to my Sunday shows for awhile. Months before we actually met. Did you really meet me by coincidence?”

“Or was I stalking you as my next victim?” His head fell to the side, eyes closed and smile wide. “I saw you there, yes. And though you weren’t the best singer, I did enjoy your shows.”

You tried to see him without directly turning your head. 

“But yes, it was a coincidence. I had noticed that brute of a man a couple weeks in a row, staring at you so intensely. Word got around he had made a scene some time ago with a dancer.” 

You listened like someone was telling you your own story. It was an odd feeling, hearing someone recount your days from a different perspective. An unknown one. 

“I was surprised to see you at the theater when I followed him there. Even more so to see you in the alleyway.”

If he had said it wasn’t a coincidence, you genuinely didn’t know what you’d have done. You’d be scared and angry. Another predator lurking just past the tree lines.

Your relief must have been visible. “He really got to you, didn’t he?” Alastor asked, leaning over and letting his shoulder bump into yours. He was still riding the high of putting away your belongings in his closet and drawers. 

“Yeah. He gives me a bad feeling. Like…a brick wall barreling toward me.” You kicked a leaf off the steps, “Or like, when you see a big dark cloud on the horizon. Can’t do anything but wait and hunker down.”

How do you wait out a storm so set on burying you?

“Dear,” his hands rose and palms flipped up in a way that said he wasn’t hiding anything, “We get hurricanes annually. We’ve survived every one thus far. He’s just a drip. A sprinkle of a man.”

People have drowned on land before. A sprinkle could lead to pneumonia and that could lead to a wooden box. 

He tried to change the topic, laughing about Brenda’s reaction to the call and making plans for an evening out when things settled down again. You listened, but it was your turn to be half there. 

You could barely muster concern when you realized you’d forgotten your makeup and hair wrap at home when you were preparing for bed. What you would give for going home barefaced with a ruined hairdo to be the biggest stress of your week. 

The distance in your stare was weighing down his joy, how could he relish in the newest addition to his home when you were so burdened? Even in the moonless night he could see the faintest light reflecting off your eyes as you stared at the ceiling. Did you even feel his stare? 

He couldn’t let Brady poison his bed, and the man was clearly there now. Chasing you in your mind still. 

“Could I offer you a distraction?” Alastor slipped up against you, hand finding your hip. He could see your smile forming. 

“I wouldn’t argue against a distraction…,” you’d beg for one if you didn’t want to feel any lower than you already did. 

“Perfect. This bed isn’t made for three, so let’s eject that little nag, dear.” His hands slipped down your legs, “I want to replace your thoughts with better ones.” He pulled you to him, your back pressed into his broad chest. The way his soft hands smoothed over your silk slip felt like foreplay, so smooth and slick. Frictionless and gentle. Those same hands ran down and between your legs, following the line of your thighs until they found your center. “It seems you forgot something else.” Two fingers caressed your lower lips, barely parting them, “Not that I’m complaining…,” his lips found the back of your neck as his fingers rubbed gently at your core. 

It took so very little to get your body on board, wet and relaxed for his practiced hand. Your own fingers coming down to rub at your clit quickly when you felt your pleasure winding up. 

He sighed directly into the shell of your ear, hands working in tandem with yours under the covers. His back pressed against you, hips rolling into your backside in time with his fingers. 

“What are you thinking about?” Barely above a whisper as he said it into your heated skin.

“Fingers.”

“Whose?” His voice was deeper than his usual speaking tone. A tenor that made you clench around him.

“Yours.”

You’d never been so satisfied with hands before. With breath. With the sounds of a man. Never saw stars while clothed and not under the lights of the stage. Warm and wet kisses to your neck as you came down from your high, you’d never considered sex could be more than a man fucking someone. Nor that a man could find pleasure so readily with his cock still in his pants. But the way he hummed and growled softly into your skin was proof of his good time. 

You’d learned a lot from those progressively chillier nights at Alastor’s over the first week of your constant cohabitation. How much you liked waking up with someone just a reach away. How Alastor woke slowly, incapable of coherent speech for at least the first twenty minutes of his day. He’d stare and smile as his eyes blinked out of sync, rolling back occasionally as he fought the urge to fall back into sleep. Hair disheveled and soft.

When the weekend came, Alastor offered again to take you out. A promise to take you somewhere no detectives would be hiding about. A week without a peep, you were sure he had followed up with your mother and was probably steaming to get at you. But, for some reason or another, he hadn’t appeared again in the crowd of your shows. 

A week of going into work unmade and unkempt, you finally gave in and asked to be taken to your apartment early Friday. You’d grab a few items you needed, take them to work, and be back home that night. 

Your eyes were on Alastor when his car pulled up to your building. When he kissed you, your hand scratched at the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck. Eyes closed, you could smell him and feel him so much clearer. Perhaps when you were old together you wouldn’t have to worry about your sight giving out, you thought. Because you’d always know it was him by the way his skin on yours lit you up. 

“Pack something you’d like to wear out tomorrow night.” He reminded you before you pulled yourself from the car and waved him off. You lingered for a moment as he drove away, wondering if maybe the storm had been pushed off course.

“Oooh, who is he?”

Whipping around, you saw a familiar face sitting on the stoop of your building. An unwelcome one, though. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Mavis?” Your bag fell from your hands as the strength drained from your limbs.

She patted the dust off her dress before bouncing down the steps.  “The names Ephi now.” A half sister, though perhaps a quarter sister would be best to describe the often absentminded, when not literally absent, sibling. 

“That’s not a name that’s a fucking letter of the alphabet. Mama would smack the color of your cheeks if she heard you.” You were sure you’d not see her ever again, not after she ran off to head north before your mother passed. She scowled, arms crossed as you brushed past her. “I don’t have any money so you wasted a trip. See ya in another decade.”

Ephi grinned up at you as you climbed the stairs, “Looked like he had some money. Mr. Big Shot and his shiny bus.”

“Lotsa people have cars.” Your eyes landed on the suitcase poorly hidden behind the steps. Hand halting its search for the building key as you could feel the stare of your mother looking…down? A weight slipping over your shoulders like a man’s heavy winter coat.

“Well I don’t need money or cars. I need a place to crash.”

Your head fell. You could feel it coming. The gust of wind dragging the clouds slowly towards you. No, the storm wasn’t off course. It was just building momentum.

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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[always-just-red]

Heyyy guys, quick update: am working on a multi-character fic at the moment and I've not had much time for writing, so figured I'd share this deleted scene from my last fic in the meantime! It was low-key a prologue but it killed all the suspense, so I decided to take it out. Enjoy!

Prologue to To Remain Silent (a.k.a. 'Why Sylus Totally Had It Coming') Sylus x reader, 460 words, no warnings

“I wanna arrest Skye.”

Your declaration is bold— seemingly random— but it doesn’t stir Tara from the report she’s working on. She hums sceptically. “Sorry, but I don’t think singing that bad is actually a crime.”

“Nah.” You lean back in your chair to look thoughtfully up at the ceiling. “Not for that.”

“What, then?” your co-worker prompts. She glances up at you, eyes alight with mischief. “For being so, totally hot?”

You snort. “Is that a crime?”

“Yeah,” she says like it’s obvious. “And he’s super guilty.”

Your phone is out on your desk and you can’t help your gaze drifting to the open chat with Sylus. He peers at you from a background photo between the recent messages, and yeah… Tara has a point. He’s driving you crazy for all the wrong reasons, though, and that face is a ‘get out of jail free’ card that’s been vastly overplayed. You reread the messages. Those infuriating messages:

You: I’m not blind, Sylus! I saw Mephisto

You: You’re keeping tabs on me at work now?? NO

Sylus: …………..

Sylus: Relax sweetie. Mephistos with me

Sylus: Hes not the only crow in the world you know 🙄

You: Stop gaslighting me??

You: HE HAS RED EYES

Sylus: All crows do?

You: STOP

Sylus: Fine. It was Mephisto. What are you gonna do about it?

Sylus: Arrest me?

You’d thrown your phone down at the last message; it must be the man’s favourite joke. Has he annoyed you? Then arrest me, sweetie. Want a promotion? That’s a breeze for you. Come on, just arrest me. You don’t know if it’s a casual flaunt of power— the hubristic assumption that you’ll never actually do it— or if he just wants to corrupt your mind with the image of him in handcuffs.

You tap your pen beside your close-to-finished mission report. Click. You’re thinking about the time Sylus got his hands on that Hunter’s Association uniform. Click. Waltzed around in it gleefully all day. Click. He still wears it sometimes, just to get on your nerves. Click.

Tara expels an impatient breath. “Something’s really bothering you, huh?”

“I wasn’t kidding,” you say, suddenly inspired. “I wanna arrest him. Let’s do it.”

Tara tilts her head at you, curious. It won’t be easy; it’s gonna have to be so, so convincing. But you can pull this off, right? Half the workforce owes you favours— even Jenna. You’re going to have to put on the performance of your life, but you’ve had acting lessons from the leader of Onychinus himself.

“He’ll never think it’s real, right?” Tara ponders out loud. “What crime could he even be guilty of?”

Your eyes find the board across the room, smattered with wanted posters, and oh— you have a deliciously wicked idea.

[disaster-writer]

Tear You Apart (Deleted Scene)

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Summary: This is a deleted scene from my fic Tear You Apart that I really liked but had to rewrite for the published fic. You can read the full fic on my blog

Word Count: 638

Warning: Dark fic, mentions of drugging, masochism, noncon, masturbation (male)

Rating: X 18+

Minors DNI

You had Dabi wrong this whole time. His aloof, cool guy act was all a fucking facade for the psychopath that lay beneath the surface.

His crazed eyes and sick grin told you which one you were talking to right now

The entitlement he felt towards your body made your skin crawl and your stomach nauseous. The way he thought and talked to you made you want to deeply hurt him like no one else before.

You still could.

Your entire identity surrounded the fact that you caused people pain— such excruciating pain that more than just that one man has killed himself because of you.

If he thought your drugged out body was an honest representation of the strength of your quirk…

He had another thing coming.

It was as if your hands had a mind of their own as you placed them against his bare chest. 

But the reaction you got wasn’t the one you expected.

You’ve seen and heard expressions of agony your entire life and this was not that.

Another deep groan ripped from his throat, much like before. But unlike earlier, you hadn’t been able to see the expression held on his face, but now you could see how his eyebrows pinched together and his mouth fell open as he cursed.

You knew this was nothing but unbridled pleasure.

You pushed harder, fingernails digging into the seams of his body, drawing blood.

He quickly grabbed onto your wrists as some sort of anchor, the sensations making his knees weak. “Fuck— fuck— that’s different.” He laughed. You watched in horror as he continued to grunt and groan, pressing you hands harder into his chest. “Why— why is it different?”

”Because,” you started, planting your foot onto his abdomen, “I’m not drugged you sick fuck,” you kicked him hard, and his previous instability had him laying on the floor now.

You gaped as you listened to him laugh, and stroke down his chest until he reached his cock, squeezing himself through his boxers.

He started to pull his cock out—

“What the fuck—“

“Don’t give me that look,” he grunted, now fisting his cock and stroking it, “You’ve seen it before, you just don’t remember.” He taunted. “Now come here,” he stuck his free hand out to you, “Ride me crybaby.”

This—this was not how you thought tonight was going to go.

You tugged at your hair, the roots screaming in pain as you tried to figure out what to fucking do.

”I already told you. Put that thing anywhere near me and I’ll tell the world who you are,” you said shakily, back hitting the wall, “You demented creep.”

He laughed again. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him laugh before tonight— you didn’t think he was capable.

You finally realized that while you thought you had Dabi figured out… you knew nothing about Todoroki Touya.

”I’ll let you call me Touya if you want~” he lilted, continuing to stroke himself.

You sunk to the floor, knees to your chest as you continued to pull on your hair. You just wanted him out— maybe you should call the others, you knew they’d help and get this madman off your bedroom floor-

“Don’t tell me you’re not even a little bit curious,” he gained more stability in his voice. You knew some of the pain was probably subsiding. “No other man can touch you— no other man would want to touch you.”

You peered at him from behind your knees.

”You’re insane.”

”What sane man would want you?”

His gaze held yours in the dim light, refusing to look away as he kept jerking himself off, each barbell of his piercings glinting in the moonlight.

”C’mon crybaby, I don’t wanna cum if it’s not in you.”

You buried your face into your knees, “You’re disgusting.”

-

Full Fic

Tear You Apart Prequel (Dabi x Reader x Shigaraki)

[flowerygrdn]

WHAT THE FU- || k. parker

pairing: kai x vampire!reader

warnings: swearing, kissing, fluff, obsessive!kai (sort of)

summary: y/n is on her way to the sheriff's funeral when she gets an alarming call from alaric...

a/n: hello, so i used the deleted kai and jo scene for this because, let's face it, that scene deserved kai's redemption.

---

I could hear my heels clicking on the pavement as I walked towards my car. My head was currently tilted downward towards my purse as i was trying to dig out my keys. This is why I need to clean out my shit more often. Aha! I finally found them. After about five minutes of digging.

Suddenly, my phone starts ringing. Now I have to dig that out of my purse. Damn this bag. Once I retrieved my phone from my bag, I saw the screen lit up with Alraic's name across it.

"I know, I'm running late. Can you tell Caro-" I start, but was immediately cut off by Alaric.

"y/n, I need you to get over to Jo's place right now." His voice is urgent and I immediately stop right in my tracks.

"Why? Alaric, I need to be at the funeral right now."

"y/n, just get over here! You'll see why I called you when you do." I didn't know what to do with that. I didn't want to disappoint Caroline by not being there, but Alaric sounds like he's desperate.

"Okay, but I swear to God if it's something stupid, like you got your hand stuck in the sink, I'm gonna be so pissed." I say as I open my car door.

"y/n!"

"Stop your whining, I'm on my way." I hang up and change the gear to drive. Alaric better have a good excuse.

---

I get to Jo's apartment and open the door. I have no clue why it was unlocked. Do they not care about serial killers? My heels click with every stride I take towards the living room and soon enough I'm at the doorway.

"Alright, what was so impor-" I stop in my tracks when I see a devilish smirk from across the room. Along with the stupid expression, I get a little wave. My eyes shoot over to Jo, who's now standing there, giving me a look of pity.

"What the fu-"

"y/n, save it for a better time." Alaric says, putting his hand up to hush me.

A better time? The best time to swear would be right about now. When Kai Parker is standing there, smirking at me.

"This is why you called me here?! Jo can I please kill your fiancé?!" My eyes begin to darken and veins flash under my eyes. My vamp side comes out when I get pissed. Jo immediately comes over to calm me down.

"Okay, calm down. y/n, no one is killing anybody. We just called you over because we knew that if you were here, my asshole of a twin wouldn't try anything." Jo turns her head over her shoulder and sends Kai a glare.

"She's right." Kai shrugs, still not whipping that stupid grin off his face.

"You! I do not want to hear another word out of your mouth!" I demand. His hands go up in defense.

"Yes, ma'am. " he mutters under his breath.

"Why me though?!" I shout some more.

"Because he's obsessed with you." Alaric responds, rubbing his temples. Kai winks at me. I roll my eyes and try to walk out, but Jo pulls me back.

"y/n, please. He claims he's sick, so can you please come with me to my office so we can check him?" Jo's voice makes me calm down a little bit. I've always kind of seen her and Alaric as close friends, family even. So, if me being here ensures their safety, then so fucking be it.

---

Me, Jo, and Kai walk into her office and Jo leads us to one of the rooms.

"Motus!" Jo says as soon as the door closes. I see Kai fly across the room and hit the wall. She then does that one spell that makes your head feel like it's going to explode. It nice to be on the opposite end of that for once.

"Talked to Dad. Guess who's not sick? Him, Liv, and I'm feeling pretty good right now. Which leads me to believe I'm not gonna die anytime soon. So, what's your game?! Tell me!" She shouts.

"I don't have a game!" Kai shouts back. "God!" He shouts again before doing the same spell to her. I fall down next to Jo, grabbing her arm and trying to think of a way to help her. He stops when I make eye contact with him. I'm pretty sure my vampire face flashed because, he looked a little scared.

"As much as my suffering might bring you two pleasure, this is not the way to handle the situation." He stands up and starts towards us. I help Jo to her feet and dust off my dress.

"Is this all just a ploy for you to get more magic?" Jo's tone is an accusing one, and Kai's face twists into a serious one. A face I've never seen before.

"It's a ploy for us all to stay alive, actually. I'm sorry if that seems selfish!"

"I don't believe you! Because you are a liar. And you are the worst kind of liar because your lies sound so much like the truth, it's impossible for me to tell the difference. " That's something me and Jo agree on. No matter what faces I've seen before, Kai has never shown an honest one.

"You're right, I am a liar, alright? I'm the black sheep. You know, the defective twin that nobody wanted." His voice cracks and this gains my attention. Something about me is that, even without compulsion, I can tell when someone is being sincere. And for once, Kai is.

"It must feel real nice for you to stand her, judging me. Surrounded by all the things you got out of life while I spent eighteen years in isolation as the family reject." His eyes flash over to me before returning to Jo. I never thought I'd be saying this right now, but I kind of feel remorse for Kai.

"Let me tell you, every inch of me wants to kill you for that. Every part!" I slowly start to step in front of Jo, but she pulls me behind her instead.

"But I can't. Because the only way that I can survive is if you help me. And I'd like to live, frankly. Because I didn't get to do a whole lot of that before everyone decided that I wasn't worth it."

There it is again. The feeling of remorse for the man in front of me. His words made me realize that he wasn't born a monster. His coven made him that way. All because he was different. Malachai Parker is evil, but maybe there's a part of him that isn't. A part that can consume the evil and make a whole new person.

"I'll give it to you." Jo replied.

"But under one condition. You take it and get out of my life. I never want you anywhere near me again." She spits out.

"Fine."

"I'm not finished. If you break our promise, I'll kill you." My head snaps towards her.

"I'll take myself and our entire coven down with you. Because I don't want to live another minute, afraid of my own brother." I'd never have thought Jo would do that, but given everything Kai did, she has every right. But something inside me hopes, prays even, she never has to do that.

"You got it?"

"Got it." Kai looks over at me again. My eyes have softened, and I'm now starting to see a whole different person when I look at him. He brushes past us and walks out of the door.

---

After Jo gave Kai her magic, He was out the door in a heartbeat. Not before whispering one last thing in her ear. I quickly say my goodbyes and run after him.

"Kai, wait!" He turns around while standing in the middle of the parking lot. His hands are in his pockets, and his lips part at the sight of me lightly jogging. When I stop a few feet away from him, my words suddenly exit my mind. I have no clue what to say.

"You know, I always thought that the only thing that would make me happy was being coven leader." Kai starts. My eyebrows scrunch. I don't know where he intends to go with this.

"The day I met you in the prison world, I started feeling things. After I merged with Luke, I started feeling even more things. And then it dawned on me." He started taking steps towards me. My feet stay planted in the pavement below me and my stomach twist into knots. I don't know what I'm feeling but, I don't want it to stop.

"Sure, being gemini coven leader is amazing. The power, the title, it's all I've ever wanted. But, then I met you. You are what I've always wanted. Well, maybe not always, but from the day that I met you, you were all I wanted, no, needed." He stops in front of me. My breath gets caught in my throat.

"It's always been you, y/n. And I know you hate me. I know I'm just another monster that you and the gang had to face, but to me, you are my world." What is happening right now? Why are his words having this effect on me? Why do I want him closer? What the actual hell?

"When you're happy, I'm happy. When something hurts you, I want to hunt it down and destroy it. So, hate me. Help your friends plot my death. But just know..." His hand comes up to cup my cheek. I flinch, but don't take his hand away. For some weird reason, I like the way his skin feels against mine.

"I'll love you even if I'm in hell." Holy shit.

Kai Parker loves me? How? Why? What the fuck?! Wait...no there's no way...do I love him too? All I've ever felt for him was disgust, but maybe that was just a cover-up. Because what I'm feeling right now didn't just happen within the span of a few hours. I guess it's always been there, I just didn't see it before.

He leans down and kisses my forehead then turns around. He begins to walk away, but I don't want him to. I can't let him.

"Kai!" He stops and turns around again.

I don't think. My body is moving before my mind can process it. My legs are taking long strides, and soon, my arms are thrown around his shoulders, and I'm pulling his head down to mine. Our lips meet in the middle, and his hands quickly find my waist.

Passion. Sparks flying everywhere. That's what I feel when I'm kissing Kai Parker. His hands are moving up and down my back and mine are racking through his hair. We only pull away when we're about to run out of oxygen. We keep our heads rested on each other's and try to steady our breaths.

"I love you, Kai." I feel his arms tighten around my waist. He let's out a breath that sounded like he had been holding in.

"I love you to hell and back, y/n." He says before capturing my lips in another passionate kiss.

---

[porkcutletbowl44]

Pls post deleted scenes 🙇🏽‍♀️

Hi anon! I'm sorry this took so long, but I wanted to accumulate as much deleted scenes as I could until I started running out of the intrusive ideas for now 🤣

A lot of these won't make sense, hence why they are deleted because I have deleted a lot of scenes because I change my mind a lot, most are just funny replies, my notes to read for later, and just... Feral in general lmao.

So, yes, deleted for a reason! (I will be adding to it if I come across more out of pocket shit)

(probably riddled with spelling and Grammar mistakes)

Far From Perfect Deleted Scenes

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

(Spoiler free! at least one of these scenes is NSFW)

-----

That comment strikes a nerve, and for a fraction of a second, Keegan's composure falters.

But he quickly regains his composure, and a flicker of irritation shows in his eyes. "Twat?" he repeats, his voice just as cool as before. "That's a new one. I prefer handsome devil, personally."

"More like arrogant prick." Simon replied with distain.

-----

He knew that Simon was a strong guy, and he had no doubt that he could hold his own in a fight. But he also knew that strength wasn't everything.

He glanced at Simon struggling with the barbell, silently amused. He chuckled to himself and leaned over to Hesh, who was watching the scene unfold with a smirk on his face.

"Y'know, for a big tough guy, he's got some pretty small dick vibes," Keegan quipped, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Hesh snickered, trying to muffle his laughs.

"Yeah, he's overcompensating for something," he said, his eyes fixed on Simon.

"Probably said micro penis."

-----

Soap only shook his head with a scoff, muttering out, "Bloody hell..." under his breath, before leaning over and smacking Simon upside the back of the head.

He grumbled out in irritation, "Get yerself together, ya prick."

-----

Fawn looks up from her coloring book, looking over at her cow.

"Dad...you're a heifer. Just like my cow."

-----

Simon huffs in annoyance, you swear you saw his eye twitch to hold back his anger.

"You think you can just excuse your actions? Moving on like nothing mattered between us?"

"I swear to GOD I'm gonna invest in a meat hook next to make the other side of your ribs to match."

-----

[this shit is ass delete immediately, uncontinue, swap for 3rd]

"Do you remember when we first met?"

It was a dumb question, he knows you do. You’ve told him countless times that you’ll never forget.

You shake your head, confused, "Simon, what is this about?-"

His large hands moved from your arms to your thighs, pushing them apart so he could step even closer to you.

His warm hands gently grip your soft flesh, his fingers squeezing your thighs gently.

"Just answer me," he pleaded.

He wanted to get closer, but he’ll hold himself back.

"Do you remember when we first met?" He repeated.

"Yes," you whisper.

A small, halfhearted laugh escaped from him, but it lacked any humor.

"What was your first thought o' me?"

He knew the answer to this, again, it’s a dumb question, but he wanted to hear it from you. He needed to.

"It was dark, all I saw was your mask and I thought you were gonna kill me..." You nervously smiled, trying to suppress it.

He almost smiled— but he didn’t, not just yet.

Not when he was standing between your legs, his fingers digging into your thighs.

"An' when you saw m'face?"

His head tilted down towards yours, making sure you had no choice but to look up at him with those pleading eyes of yours.

"I...." You trailed off, taking in a breath. "I don't know how to answer that."

His hands on your thighs squeezed gently, as if trying to keep you there. He was losing his patience, fast. He had to keep it together. He can’t get angry, it would wreck everything.

"Say it," He urges. "What did y'think when you saw m'face for the first time?"

"I thought... Maybe you weren't such a asshole after all. You trusted me,"

His thumb moves to start rubbing small circles on your inner thigh, his mind remembering how it’d move between your legs.

"Y'were the only one I trusted with a lot o' things," he said hoarsely, his eyes scanning your face.

His touch was making you shiver, he knew. But he wasn’t going to do anything irrational, especially when he knows you're still hurt, mad at him.

"The only one I trusted with m'heart," he continued. "The only one that I trusted with my life... Y'know that."

-----

"You just said y'would. You'd consider it."

He steps closer to you again, the distance between your bodies almost nonexistent thanks to his fat chest. "You'd consider going out with another guy, just like that?"

"Well, it's a good thing I'm free to do that if I want to, huh? Considering YOURE THE ONE WHO LEFT ME FOR A FUCKING BIMBO!"

-----

"I’ll go pack up her stuff if y'wanna go pump."

"Im gonna use the electric one finally, see how it works." You brush off

He didn’t respond to your statement, simply nodding his head in acknowledgement.

Though, he made a mental note to buy you a better electric breast pump. He’d been meaning to, for sometime, but just didn’t get around to it.

He gave you a light pat on the hip, signaling that he would head over to the nursery to start packing Fawn’s overnight stuff.

You sat Fawn on her play blanket, and fished around for the pump.

You opened the box and read the instructions.

In the other room, Simon headed into the nursery and began to gather up the items he’d need to pack into a small overnight bag: a couple of onesies, a change of clothes, nappies, powder, wipes. The usual supplies for a baby.

It didn’t take him long to get everything together. He sat down on the bed near the nursery and began pulling things out of the bag, double checking he had everything. Simon checked his watch and glanced towards the door, curious how long it was taking you to set up the breast pump.

Normally, it didn’t take long, just a few minutes of getting everything ready. It should’ve been done by now. But you were taking a long time, a noticeably longer time. His curiosity was starting to get the better of him.

He quietly walked to the door, silently slipping into the hallway and going to the living room.

Simon continued to slowly walk down the hallway, looking down when he heard you mumbling to yourself. He saw you sat on the couch, holding the breast pump in one hand and the instructions in the other.

He stopped in front of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, an amused look on his face.

"Everything alright, love?"

You huff silently, "It says to be placed with the opening at the top, but there's two openings..."

Simon stepped up to the couch, sitting down on the cushion next to you. He looked at the breast pump with you, seeing exactly what you were talking about.

"Y'don't say." He responded, unable to keep the smirk from playing at the corners of his lips.

"Maybe..." You capped the top one, and stuffed it down your shirt and held it in place.

You pressed the on button, and it started to work

He raised an eyebrow, looking at the sight of the pump resting against your chest. The way it sat, pushed against your chest, looked uncomfortable. He reached over to adjust it for you.

"It’s not uncomfortable?" Simon questioned, hand hovering in the air.

"No, it's just...cold." you shrug, letting him hold it in place.

His eyebrows furrowed in thought as you informed him that the pump was cold. Which made sense, considering it was sitting against your bare skin. He adjusted it slightly, trying to ensure it was secure.

"Right, right…" he responded, his voice a tad lower than usual.

Simon found his eyes drawn back to the sight of the breast pump, sitting against your chest.

"At least it's the right titty size."

You huff, deadpanning at him. By the time you were done, you were filling up the biggest mason jar you had with milk. Simon sat there, watching the jar you had the pump connected to fill up with an impressive amount of milk. He was… in awe, mildly shocked at the amount.

"Jesus… that’s a lot o' milk." He mumbled.

"Liquid gold," you smirk, circling the milk around the jar.

"Guess so," he hummed as he watched you circle the milk around the jar. His eyes were still fixated on your tits, particularly the area where the pump was sitting against.

He could feel his jeans growing tighter by the second, and quickly tried to find a distraction. He cleared his throat, trying to think of something to say. He knew that if he just sat there and stared at your breasts, he’d get distracted and things would escalate quickly.

"Y'know, this new pump works… efficiently." he commented, watching as you held the jar.

You nod along, holding up a finger for him to listen to the whirrr of the machine

He went quiet, listening intently to the sound the breast pump was making. He had to admit, the new one was faster, and much quieter than the one you were previously using.

Simon hummed in thought.

"Y'were right 'bout the new pump bein' better. Quiet too,"

-----

"No?" Simon repeated, his eyebrows raising in surprise at her reaction. "You don’t think they are nice?"

"No, because momma always says 'romance is dead', and 'men ain't shit', whatever that means..." She explained casually.

Simon sputters in shock and laughter, "Don't say bad words,"

"Sorry..."

-----

[black jack or crazy eights]

Hesh looks up from his cards with a pout.

"I'm not a sore loser, I just don't like cheaters," he retorts, his words laced with teasing humor.

"You're just a filthy cheater."

"Womp womp, L, ratio, get absolutely shit on—"

-------

[trashed for the better note]

Simon is home from his long day at HQ, locking the deadbolt behind him with a call of your name.

"In here, Si! I can't really walk fast..." you called out.

"'M comin'!" Simon shouted back, his voice a bit rougher than usual.

Simon eyes the kettle already cooling down from its boil, smiling appreciatively.

"Damn, look at ya... lil rascal getting ready to pop, huh?"

You smiled softly, leaning on the counter.

"Yeah, ready to pop my bladder. Been laying on it all day," you rubbed the back of your neck.

"I swear, you didn't have to piss so much before getting pregnant." Simon replied, turning the kettle off the eye.

"Then again, y'know how it is..." He shrugged. "Nothin' but a big ol' baby to the back of your bladder." he said, taking a couple of steps towards you, his hand reaching out to support your back.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his masked cheek.

"I'm ready for this thing to get outta me... I miss having sushi." You whined pitifully.

"Jus' a couple more weeks." he replied, resting his hand on your swollen stomach.

Simon looked down at you, his fingers tracing a small circle.

"Sushi an' wine. Thas what ya missin' the most, eh?" he asked.

"I can deal without wine, but I'd kill for a snow crab roll." You replied with a playful seriousness.

Simon scoffed, though it held no genuine disdain as he laughed. "Yeah, thas you just 'bout. Kill for food, sleep, an' me. What else?" he teased.

He drums his fingers on your belly, "Jus' hold on, yeah? 'M sure we can get you some sushi after things settle down."

"yeah." You smiled up at him, moving out of the way for him.

Simon chuckled, starting to go about the task of making tea.

"Not to mention the little one will be out n' 'bout before we know it." he said, looking down at you.

"An' then we'll have to deal with that. We're gonna have t'get used to bein' tired all the damn time... or just ya, really."

You glared at him slightly, dipping your pretzels in peanut butter.

"'M just sayin', 'm already used to bein' tired." Simon said with a small, smug smile, leaning against the counter.

"An' you'll be the one that's gonna have t'get up in the middle o' the night... feed him an' all that. So 'm gonna have me a lil sleepin' buddy." Simon joked, chuckling again... before realizing what he was saying.

"That uh, that sounded better in my head."

"'him'?" You looked at him confused.

"He... He... It... It's..." Simon replied, his voice growing frustrated as he tried to explain himself. "Whatever it is."

Simon paused for a few seconds, taking a deep breath to try to gather his thoughts

"I mean... I'd be fine no matter what it is." he offered, "I just.. just want it t'be healthy, Y'know?"

"yeah, I know. You think it's a boy?" You asked curiously, munching away.

"I mean..." Simon muttered, his tone growing serious, "I hope it's a boy... I, just,"

Simon sighed, "Just wanna be able to do the things with 'em. Take him out an' about. Teach 'im the things that I think a Dad should teach 'is son."

Simon paused again, letting out a small sigh.

"Sorry... I-I," Simon's voice had gone quiet.

what are you complaining about? It should be enough to have a healthy and happy child... right?

Your eyes softened.

"I get it...you wanna be the dad you didn't have."

"Exactly." Simon muttered, "I don't wanna be... well, I don't wanna be him."

"God, this kid is gonna be glued to your side." You giggle.

"I hope he is." Simon muttered, chuckling softly as he realized how he sounded.

"But... I want 'em to not be afraid to speak up and tell me 'bout stuff. I want 'em to not be afraid to let me know how they're feeling. I want 'em to come to me when they're sad or excited or hurt. I never *got* all that.. and.. well.. I want to give him the childhood I never had, you know?"

"you're already a great dad." You murmured affectionately.

Simon scoffed, though it held no genuine malice as he let out a small, soft chuckle. "Nah... haven't been a Dad yet. Just a... an expectin' father who's gonna soon be a Dad."

He paused a moment, looking down at your stomach, his hand shifting to rub it.

"The baby's still cookin' in there... we still got a ways to go before we start doin' the Dad stuff."

"well...you practically raised your brother. I think you have most of the skills already," you murmured carefully.

Simon stiffened slightly, his fingers tightening a little on your stomach for a moment, before settling once again.

"Right... well... he wasn't my son. He was my brother."

Simon sighed as he continued to massage your stomach.

"It's different." he said shortly, the topic of his brother something that Simon had always been sensitive about, even if he rarely spoke of it.

"it is different, but its still the same necessities, y'know? Feeding, bathing, bedtime..." You trailed off.

"I suppose..." Simon grumbled, his tone quiet, and his grip on your stomach now loosened, his hand now resting gently.

"I just want to be a better father than mine was... better than his. I wanna make sure this kid gets raised proper, y'know?"

"Just wanna be the father that a kid deserves. Not the alcoholic, narcissistic prick that I got." Simon grumbled softly, his words holding no malice, just the facts of his own miserable childhood.

"you're gonna be such a a good father..." You sighed out tenderly, cupping his cheek.

"I sure as hell 'ope so." Simon muttered, nodding as he looked at your hands on his cheek.

"I couldn't bare for our kid to experience even half the trauma that I did. Can't let 'em go through that, y'know?"

"you will." You assured. "You're not your father's son anymore." You shook your head. "You are your own person, top of the Riley family tree."

"Hmm.." Simon muttered softly, nodding as he took a deep breath.

"I know, but I can't help but... I just get scared." he admitted, looking up at you and meeting your eyes.

"Just the idea of havin' to take care 'o somethin'... someone other'n myself... it's a big responsibility." he breathed in again and let out a shuddering sigh, looking back to your swollen stomach.

"we are in this together, okay?" You murmured, trying to wash away his worries.

--------------

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

WIP Wednesday

Hello, it’s me- the angst fairy- back again with something needlessly angsty. I was reminded recently about a scene I’d deleted from an old fic of mine. No regrets about deleting, it was the right decision, but I was sad to cut it. B-15 deserves more character analysis. So sharing it now.

Tagging just a few folks who I don’t think will mind the angst but anyone else who sees this and wants to participate in sharing their art or writing- please do! 💚 (And please tag me in your posts so I don’t miss it) @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @lgwilt @dewdropreader

Deleted scene from a fic where Mobius is trying to ignore his trauma but the memories of those he’s pruned keep on coming. B-15 helps him through it. (I noticed on B-15’s Funko Pop that she tracked her kills on her helmet and decided, as I do, there’s an angsty story there.)

Verity stopped and opened a small door to their left, pulling Mobius inside an empty room.

“I thought you said we were running late to another meeting?”

“There’s no meeting,” she said. “Just looked like you needed a break from the briefing. Take a minute.”

Mobius nodded and let his head fall against the door behind him, relishing the feeling of cool metal against his skin. It was quiet. There were no glaring lights, no beeping machines, no questions he didn’t know the answer to. Mobius took a few steady breaths until the headache pounding in his head subsided. He opened his eyes to find Verity watching him closely.

“Thanks,” Mobius said, pushing himself from the door and straightening his tie. “I feel better. Don’t tell Loki he was right. He warned me that a meeting on numerical code methodology for new timelines would put me to sleep.”

He turned to share a laugh with Verity but her face didn’t show any amusement. Instead, she looked concerned.

“I don’t think this was as simple as you falling asleep in a meeting,” she said carefully.

Mobius stilled. He had hoped his episodes weren’t noticeable but he should have known he wouldn’t be able to keep them from Verity. She was smart. It’s why he named her Deputy Director.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked after a few moments of silence.

Flashes of a park on a sunny day, a couple laughing, a timestick in his hand, a scream of terror, and a case file— variants eliminated— sped through Mobius’ mind before they were gone.

“No… I don’t remember what I was thinking about,” Mobius answered honestly. It was probably for the best he didn’t remember.

Verity frowned. “You shouldn’t repress your memories.”

Mobius slumped back against the door with a groan. She was right. While they still didn’t quite understand what the TVA had done to them, they were beginning to understand how they could heal their broken minds. Mobius knew the steps a TVA worker should take when they felt their memories resurface —he’d help write the protocol— but it was time consuming. For an organization that existed outside time, Mobius sure felt they were constantly running out of it. He didn’t have time to practice the techniques he’d taught others.

“There are too many cases that need my attention right now,” Mobius said.

“You need to offload some of those. I keep telling you-”

“I know, I know. I will. I just need to get through this Mandarin case first.”

“And then?” Verity pressed.

“And then I’ll take a few days off and sort through some of this… stuff.

Verity gave a disbelieving huff.

“I will.”

A heavy silence fell between the two agents and Mobius looked at the room around them. They were in one of the storage rooms that used to hold confiscated variants’ possessions. Without the stolen artifacts filling the shelves, the room seemed hollow. Purposeless. Mobius didn’t know what he was supposed to do with it in the reallocation.

“You’re not the only one who’s struggling,” Verity whispered. Her voice was soft, so soft that even in the silence of the abandoned room Mobius hardly heard her. At first, he wasn’t sure she intended to speak the words out loud.

“That’s how I knew you were having an episode,” she continued, twiddling with the cufflinks on her new suit in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. “I get these… headaches sometimes. Everything blurs together and I can’t remember where or when I am. It’s like I’m lost in my memories or, no, it’s like I’m trapped… trapped by him again… like we never escaped.”

Verity clenched her eyes shut with a sharp inhale of breath as if she were trapped inside a memory right now and Mobius reached out, taking her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He knew how terrifying it was to be stuck in your memories, to feel like you were back under his control. They may have defeated He Who Remains but he was still here. He always would be. There was no amount of running they could do to escape him entirely. It made Mobius feel weak. He hated thinking Verity felt the same.

“Did you know I used to track kills on my helmet?” Verity asked.

Mobius nodded. He remembered. His memories might be splintered but he remembered enough. He remembered what they were a part of.

“I hated that thing,” she scowled. “I hated that number printed on the side. The paint was fresh when I started but sometimes I swore I could see the etchings of another number. The number of whoever I replaced when they were deemed ineffective. I wondered how long it would be before they replaced me.

“I thought if I marked my helmet as my own, if I made it look different, I would feel better. They wouldn’t paint over it so easy. I thought if I pruned more than anyone else, I could prove to the Timekeepers that I was better than everyone else in my unit. That I would feel useful, good, like what I was doing mattered but-” Verity’s voice cracked and Mobius squeezed her hand tighter. “I only ever felt more angry. So, I pruned more hoping that feeling would go away. It never did. It just kept getting worse and worse and worse until…” Verity trailed off.

“Until Sylvie,” Mobius finished.

“Until Sylvie,” Verity agreed, wiping her eyes and pulling back with a soft smile on her face. “Sylvie showed me everything I lost and suddenly it all made sense. I knew why I hated that number. I knew why I woke up furious at the world, looking to punish anyone who got in my way. It’s because that number wasn’t my name. Who they made me wasn’t me.

“They took everything from us and while we can’t travel back in time and change what was done, we can change our future. We have the opportunity to fight for something we believe in now. Sylvie and Loki gave us that.”

Warmth spread through Mobius as the mention of Loki’s name. He looked down at the ring on his left hand and smiled, running his finger along the band again. He would never understand how he’d gotten so lucky; he would do everything in his power to be the man Loki believed him to be.

“You gave us this opportunity too,” Verity added. “When we burnt down our old TVA, you built a new one and you didn’t dictate a new purpose but rather showed us what a new purpose could be. We chose to follow you. We choose this life. And…” Mobius felt Verity give his hands a gentle squeeze. “You don’t need to carry it alone. We want to help you.”

Mobius carefully untangled his hands from Verity’s and took a step backwards. “I know.”

“Good,” Verity nodded with an air of finality. “At least let Loki help you. I don’t know what’s going on between you two but he’s started helping me with my cases.”

Mobius snorted. He could only imagine how that was going.

“It’s not funny, Mobius. He’s driving me nuts. You need to let him return to smothering you otherwise I might just send him to the Void without his TemPad.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Mobius chuckled at Verity’s hollow threat. “I’ll talk to him. Now, come on. I think we both deserve a little treat after all this. Let’s see what Processing confiscated today.”

Verity hesitated. “Mobius, I don’t care how many different variations you force me to try, I’m not going to like any timeline’s Josta.”

“What?? After all that talk about hope and change. One day I am going to find you a Josta you like. But no, I actually wasn’t talking about Josta this time. I heard Processing just got back with a case full of strawberry margarita mix. If that interests you.”

Verity’s face lit up in a brilliant smile. “Now, you’re speaking my language. Lead the way, Director. Josta aside, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

I’ll follow you anywhere.

Mobius’ steps faltered as he swallowed over the lump of fear in his throat at the words. Verity and the entire TVA would follow him. They were depending on him to show them the way, to fix things and Mobius couldn’t let them down. He wouldn’t.

Okay, I’ll write something fluffy and cute for next time. I promise I do know how to write sweet things 😅

[minsarasarahair]

Reasons why you must watch Shao Nian Ge Xing donghua (Me trying to convince people)

Its free. You can bingewatch it in Youku animation or Bilibili youtube channel with english subs. Its very accessible for international watchers.

Its ongoing and has already 3 related donghua. Aside from main story, you have the assassins' own spin-off and prequel about uncles' youth story.

Its a must watch if you like handsome characters, and bromance. Like I feel Xiao Se and Wuxin look gayer in the donghua. They have a scene in the donghua that was deleted. It just means it look too gay so they deleted it. I remember watching that scene but I can't find that particular scene anymore. I'm definitely not delusional because they still show that scene in the donghua opening visuals. Its very real and not figment of my imagination.

One of the good coming-of-age Wuxia donghua out there. The fighting scenes are so good. You can really feel that they are powerful characters. If they are a threat or a veteran, that's definitely the aura they gave you.

Did you know the drama adaption used the storyboard of the donghua for the earlier episodes and the donghua's theme song? Meaning the donghua is that good if the storyboard and theme song can be use again. It has great useable value and donghua has established good reputation.

Dark River in the donghua is so good in terms of character designs and compelling complex agenda. They have the coolest character introduction ever.

Xiao Se in the donghua is more sassy, has older friend vibe and has attitude problem. The drama tone it down, of course. His facepalm, the way he squint, his droopy eyes and the way he raise his eyebrows are very entertaining to watch.

They don't force the romance in your face. They slowly introduce Qianluo as Xiao Se's love interest and at the same time they show how the characters have great brotherhood with his friends. I think I ship the bickering dynamic of Qianluo and Xiao Se in the donghua but never in the drama.

The battle of the 3 Princes in donghua is like a cautious chess game. It don't feel like a fight between 3 siblings but more like a fight among 3 ambitious people who know their own goals. Their drama version is more straightforward. The emperor is still biased for Xiao Se so even if they are against Xiao Se, I can't help but sympathize with them.

They have strong female characters. Yes, they are the love interest but they have their own story to tell and can stand out on their own as characters. For example, Ye Ruoyi actually want Xiao Se to join the battle for the throne because she support him even if she's also Lei Wujie's love interest.

The 3D animation is quite decent. I actually watched this before so I can get used to 3D donghua as preparation for SVSSS donghua. As my first 3D donghua, this is definitely a good experience.

Its a good mix of court politics and jianghu politics. If you ask why jianghu play a big role in the story, the King of Langya(Xiao Se's uncle executed because of a crime accusation) is like a bridge to Jianghu and Palace. Since the emperor ordered to kill him, it heavily affected the jianghu because that's like their friend and you killed him so they obviously felt betrayed. Xueyue city is protective of Xiao Se because he's close with his uncle and he questioned the emperor's decision back then that resulted him being exiled and assassinated that destroyed his martial arts core.

[wheels-of-despair]

Under Pressure | Eric x You vs. The Apocalypse | Series Masterlist

Chapter Eight: Deleted Scenes Summary: Someone may have forgotten to mention a few things... Words: 2.8k

One Month After Meeting Eric

"I want to invite your brother over for Thanksgiving."

You see Evan tense out of the corner of your eye. He's putting the finishing touches on a pasta dish he's about to bake. You're washing vegetables for a salad. It's the very picture of domestic bliss.

"Why?" he asks without looking at you.

"Because he's your brother, and he lives ten minutes away, and he doesn't have any other family on this continent. Letting him spend Thanksgiving alone would be a crime."

He heaves a sigh.

"Why do you hate him so much?" you ask.

"I don't hate him," he says quickly, sticking the pan in the oven and letting the door slam shut. He walks to the table and drops into a chair, putting his head in his hands. The salad can wait. You abandon the vegetables and silently sink into the chair across from him. "I just… we have nothing in common."

"You don't even know him," you remind him. "You only saw each other on holidays, right?"

"Yeah," he sighs, leaning back in his chair. Boarding school. His father had shipped all of his sons off to boarding school as soon as they were able to feed themselves. As children, they saw each other on Christmas and over the summer, where the older ones delighted in tormenting the smaller ones. Especially the one you married. Which is why he fled the country at the first available opportunity.

You cross your arms and lean forward. You've been eager to know the whole story since the night you met Eric, but have been afraid to ask. Evan doesn't like talking about his family, but this is driving you crazy. He looks at you with pleading eyes… and sighs.

"Is this the part where you huff and you puff and you try to blow your way out of this conversation?" you tease.

He chuckles, and you reach across the table for his hands. He takes them.

"The only time my older brothers ever included me in anything is when we were taking the piss out of Eric."

Your heart sinks.

"Don't look at me like that," he begs. "He did it to me too. We were the youngest. The weaklings. We were practically interchangeable."

"And it never occurred to you two to join forces?"

His eyes narrow, and he pulls his hands away to cross his arms.

"They would've killed us both," he drawls. "Literally."

"They're not here," you remind him. "And neither is your old man. It's just you, and the other brother who spent his entire childhood getting bullied. Do you really think it's a coincidence that out of everywhere in the world, millions of different cities all over the globe, that he chose to go to law school here? Mere minutes away from you?"

"Father probably chose for him," he scoffs. "Consolidate the disappointments. Dash the spirits of two pathetic birds with one yearly visit from the stone."

"Shut up," you say lightly. "He's here, he's alone, and I want him to come spend Thanksgiving with us. Will you at least consider it? Just this once? For me?"

He gives you a hard stare. You bat your eyelashes flirtatiously. His cheeks twitch as he attempts to conceal a smile. You poke out your bottom lip, clasp your hands, and bring them to your chin for a proper beg.

"Oh, alright," he laughs, "but only for you."

"Was that so hard?" you tease.

"That salad's not going to make itself," he gripes.

You laugh and toss a kitchen towel at him when you get up and return to the sink.

Eric's coming for Thanksgiving.

Two Seconds After Thanksgiving

The door is barely closed when you start missing your new friend. Eric's visit went so much better than you expected.

"Did you just invite him over for Christmas?" Evan asks from the couch, lying on his back with his hands laced behind his head.

"I may have," you admit guiltily.

"Ughhhhhh," he groans, covering his face with his hands.

"Oh, come on," you laugh, locking the door and going to him. You crawl onto the couch and settle yourself between him and the back cushions, resting your head on his chest and an arm around his waist. "You had fun."

"Yeah," he admits, wrapping an arm around you. "It wasn't terrible. But we don't need to make it a thing."

"He's your brother, dammit," you argue, poking him lightly in the belly. He grunts. "That is the thing."

"Why are you so attached to him?" he asks.

You have to think about it for a moment.

"He's easy to get along with," you shrug. "He's sweet, and he's funny. Your relationship, or lack thereof, fascinates me. And the hold that your old man has over him is devastating. He's just this adorable little brown-eyed ball of anxiety, all alone in the big scary city. Sound familiar?" Silence. "That's what I thought. Can you blame me for wanting to look after him?"

Evan lets out a long sigh. "No," he admits.

"Good," you say quietly, a grin growing on your face. "'Cause he's coming for Christmas. Deal with it."

Evan retaliates with a tickle attack on your ribs, and you laugh and writhe and flail against him. When you finally get his hands pinned, in a truly impressive self-defense maneuver, you're straddling his waist.

"I love you," you say fondly.

"I love you, too," he smiles.

Three Minutes 'til Christmas Eve

"God, I thought Peter would never leave," Evan complains as he flips the bedroom light switch off. "Take a hint, man!"

"So glad that's over," you yawn, exhausted from the Christmas party you'd thrown together. Evan crawls into bed next to you.

"My brother followed you around like a little lost puppy all night," he smirks.

"The poor kid was so nervous," you sigh. "I may have undersold the crowd when I invited him to the party."

"But you both survived," he notes.

"Mhm," you hum.

"At least you'll have each other while I'm away."

You've been working so hard to avoid thinking about the fact that your other half is leaving for an entire year, the reminder almost comes as a shock. You barely remember what your life was like before he came into it. What the hell are you supposed to do without him?

A moment of silence passes.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Our first date," you smile at the ceiling.

"Oh, God," he laughs, shaking the bed. "I was in such a panic, I would've taken anyone with me."

"Wow, that means a lot to me, thank you so much," you deadpan, rolling away from him to face the wall.

"You know what I mean," he purrs, sliding an arm around your waist and holding you from behind. "I'm so glad it was you."

"Me too," you admit, reaching for his hand. "Your old man never knew what hit him."

"I've always suspected that you might've hit him if he'd kept on that night," he laughs.

"I would have," you confirm. "Nobody talks about my best friend like that."

He sighs into your hair and gives your hand a squeeze.

"How do you remember it?" he asks.

"Fondly."

"Details," he presses.

"Are you asking me for a bedtime story?" you grin.

"Yes," he mumbles, shifting to get comfortable under the blankets but not letting you go. "Proceed."

"Once upon a time," you laugh, "there was a handsome but insecure Englishman living in the big city. He was a great doctor, but he never had much luck in the romance department, so he developed this really sleazy habit of hiring beautiful women with no personalities to be his fake girlfriends when his father came to town. One day, he ran out of supermodels and was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, so his entirely average best friend came to the rescue, and he had to settle for pretending to date her instead. She'd heard so many horrifying stories about what a bastard his old man was, so she came ready for a fight. They met him for dinner at a smoky shithole with really good bread, and every time that old man said something mean, she'd say something meaner. And just when she thought they were going to throw down and have a knife-fight in Soho, he laughed. 'Keep this one,' the old man said, rendering everyone speechless. And so the handsome Englishman asked for his best friend's hand each time the old man visited, and they were such a great pair, the ancient fuck never suspected a thing. The End."

"More," he groans.

"You asked for the story of our first date," you chuckle. "And I told it masterfully."

"Keep going," he whines.

"Alright, alright," you relent, pausing to plan where your story should go next. "The handsome Englishman and his entirely average best friend loved their little game so much, they started doing other things together, too. They went to museums and plays and pretentious art galleries, and she happily listened to him ramble for hours afterward. She loved spending time with him so much, she barely cried when her girlfriend of several years dumped her. Because the handsome Englishman welcomed her into his home with open arms. They cohabitated happily as the best of friends, until some ugly troll whose anti-troll procedure didn't take threatened him with a lawsuit and possible deportation. He was terrified of being sent back to England, with the rest of his awful and notably less handsome family. She was sick of friends and coworkers trying to set her up with total losers. So one day, they took a little road trip to admire the fall foliage and pick apples, and came home married. And they lived happily ever after, rotting their brains with trashy reality television and then trying to make up for it with documentaries and museum visits."

"Hm…" he hums. "Not bad. But I really think you're understating the handsomeness of this gloriously attractive Englishman."

"So sorry," you smile. "I'll do better next time."

He chuckles and kisses your shoulder.

"G'night, love."

"G'night."

Four Days After Eric's Birthday

"I've met someone."

"You're in an entirely new city," you joke, "I'm sure you've met lots of someone's."

"You're very funny, darling," Evan drawls over the phone. "But this one… this one's different."

You feel your heart sink through the floor… and several below it, then plummet into the earth. You knew this was going to happen. Your other half has been chosen for a year-long fellowship in Los Angeles, and instead of learning whatever the hell he went there to learn and coming straight back home to you... he's fallen in love.

You're allowed to see other people. Encouraged to, even. You just... stopped bothering after a while, when you realized that the best part of any date was coming home and complaining about it together. You thought he felt the same, since he'd never been out more with the same person more than once since your wedding.

"He reminds me a lot of you, actually."

Why does that make it so much worse? You reach for a pillow and hug it to your chest, hoping to stop the ache.

"Yeah?" you ask, trying not to cry.

"Yeah," he laughs. "But he's not as good at yelling at reality show contestants as you are. Your creative insults are unparalleled."

"Muchas gracias, Señor Spray Tan," you say sarcastically.

"I'm actually getting a bit of a real tan, believe it or not."

"Not."

"He's going to teach me how to surf this summer."

They're already making plans for the summer?

"That's great," you lie, tears leaking down your cheeks. "Can't really picture you surfing, though."

"Then I shall send you photographic proof!" he laughs.

"I can see the headline now: Pale British Man In Banana Hammock Gets Bullied Off Beach By Tweens."

"I'll be wearing a wetsuit, thank you very much," he says haughtily. You both laugh until it trails into silence.

"How was Eric's birthday?" he asks.

"Uh…" you chuckle nervously. "We had a lot of fun."

"Fun, in one of the most acclaimed restaurants in New York?"

"We didn't exactly make it to the restaurant," you admit, smiling at the memory.

"Why not?!" he demands.

"Some little bitch had just broken up with him. With a text. On his birthday."

"Ouch," he says.

"Yeah," you sigh. "He was pretty upset about it, so I dragged him to the arcade instead. We had a lot of fun. Ate a lot of fried food. He absolutely kicked my ass at that dancing game you used to love."

Evan laughs.

"Have you seen much of him since I've been away?"

"No," you answer. "He's busy with school and people his own age, why would he want to hang out with his boring-ass sister-in-law?"

"Because you're amazing," Evan chuckles. "And he really likes you."

"Of course he likes me," you smile, "I feed him."

"He'd like you even if you didn't feed him," he laughs. "The boy was practically glued to you at Christmas."

"Because you invited a bunch of strangers over," you argue, "and instructed them to throw their coats on his bed."

"You know, I felt awful about leaving you in the city alone… but knowing that you'd have him nearby made me feel a lot better."

"Cool, so you pawned me off on your little brother before abandoning me." Your eyes bulge. You didn't mean to say that out loud.

"No, you sarcastic ass, I did not."

A moment of tense silence follows.

"How are you?" he asks, his tone changing.

Lonely, heartbroken, miserable, would give anything to have had the hospital pick literally anyone else for this stupid fellowship and not steal your best friend away from you for an entire year and possibly forever. You hate everyone, you hate everything, all you want is for him to come home to you. Does that sound a little desperate?

"I'm fine," you lie. "It's kinda weird, though. Watching trash TV isn't fun anymore? I picked up a book the other day and read like six pages. Don't know what got into me."

Evan snorts, and the sound makes you smile.

"I miss you too, love."

A voice in the background.

"I have to go," he says. "I'll talk to next week, yeah?"

"Yeah," you breathe.

"Love you."

"Love you, too," you respond.

You end the call and sob into your pillow.

Five Minutes After Leaving Eric in the Hospital

"Hi, love."

"They're keeping him," you inform your husband, dodging slow walkers on the sidewalk on your way back to work. You've got so much to do between now and tomorrow at this time, when Eric will hopefully be coming home with you.

"Did you see him?"

"Yeah," you answer, "but not for long."

"How is he?"

"Not great," you croak, tears welling in your eyes at the memory of Eric sobbing into your shoulder. You hate that you had to leave him there, all alone.

"So he did try," Evan sighs. "Did he say why?"

"No," you answer. "The only thing he said was that your old man would probably enjoy reminding him that he fails at everything."

Evan groans.

"I think we should tell him, Ev," you say quietly.

"No."

"Evan, I'm going back to get him tomorrow, or the next day, or whenever they let me. He's coming home with me, and I'm going to take care of him for as long as he needs me to. How can I look this poor boy in the eye and ask him to tell me the truth about the worst day of his life, when our entire relationship is a lie?"

"It's not a lie," Evan argues. "We are married, we love each other, and he is your brother-in-law. He doesn't need to know anything more."

"And what if he tried to check out for the same reason you did?" you challenge.

Silence. Evan's darkest hour, now just a distant memory from med school, is rarely spoken of. You hate having to weaponize it.

"And what if he runs back to England and tells everyone?" he asks.

"Then it's the desperate ramblings of a suicidal loser trying to take the heat off himself," you spit. "Who do you think they're going to believe, Evan? Us, or him?"

Evan stays silent for so long, you hold the phone away from your face to see if the call got dropped. It didn't.

"Alright," he says eventually. "I'm going to wrap a few things up and try to get back there in the next day or two. I guess we should probably do this together."

"Good," you say, tone lightening. He's coming home. Everything will be alright when Evan comes home.

"I'll see you soon, alright?"

"Okay," you smile, feeling your spirits rise for the first time in months. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

[sunwarmed-ash]

The Eden Club-Deleted Scene

So remember when I said the plot of The Eden Club changed 12 times?

Well it did, haha and I had to delete whole scenes I don't think will end up back in the story. So I decided y'all get the deleted scenes just for following me :3 here's one of them 😈

Tags: Convin, sex worker Connor post revolution, enemies to lovers to friends, bdsm elements, Dom Connor, Sub Gavin

The Eden Club-Convin deleted scene

“Please sir…” Gavin begs, he’s been on edge for hours, and his cock aches under the hard toe of Connor’s shoe. 

“No,” the android growls, and Gavin whines knowing it means he has to wait longer until he can get what he wants. 

“No?” he repeats, begging for guidance, “Please- Sir, tell me, tell me what you want…”

“Don't call me that.”

Gavin feels like he's losing his mind. His core is throbbing, begging, screaming for release. He hasn't been broken like this in so long his body has been crying out for it. And he’s close, so close, to getting it, he’s just not there yet. But he wants to be, he wants more than anything to be good. To follow instructions and be rewarded for it. He takes an unsteady breath, keeping his head lowered as he asks, 

“What do you want me to call you?”

Connor presses the rubbered end of the flogger under Gavin’s chin, helping him look up slowly until their eyes met. Gavin is frozen there, held in place by piercing, ordering eyes. His cock throbs again underfoot. 

“I want you to call me by my name.”

Gavin’s shoulders lower and he shudders, eyes slamming closed in submission as pleasure plummets through his body and his cock twitches hard under rough plastic. 

“Connor please, please, let me cum.”  

Connor hums, pleased in his throat and Gavin feels a tension in his chest he didn't know he was holding loosen. 

Connor was proud, he did good. 

“You don't deserve it,” Connor teases, but his voice is light when he says it. 

Gavin agrees. 

“I know.” 

“Are you sorry?” He asks, and Gavin’s never been more sorry for anything in his entire life. 

“Sorry it doesn't fix it…” he says, because sorry hasn’t ever fixed anything for him. Not really. 

“It does for me, so i'd appreciate it if you changed your attitude. If you want to cum still that is. If you’ve changed your mind though-” 

“NO!” Gavin’s eyes snap up to meet Connor’s, searching his for something, some hint he was lying, just waiting for the moment for Gavin to show his belly before he struck. But Gavin didn't find any of that there. Instead he found what might even be the stupid fucking android equivalent of a soul in those suddenly innocent looking eyes. 

Tears are blurring his vision before he can look another moment, and the words are spilling out of his mouth on instinct. “Connor, I'm so phcking sorry.”

He watches how the comment effects the android, how it bleeds into every circuit and brings a stupidly pleased smile to his face that is 100% Connor and not the killing machine Cyberlife intended him to be. 

“Thank you Gavin. I'm going to let you cum now, do you know why?”

He looks back at the android with watery eyes, 

“No, actually... You just said I don't deserve it…”

“You didn’t, originally. But I’ve changed my mind based on your good behavior. So answer me, sweetheart, why am I going to let you cum?” 

The soft pet name after such a long, degrading, painful session has his emotions welling up at the surface and spilling over. He knows he's going to need a good fucking cry after this. Like a break down and ugly cry kind of cry. The android has somehow managed to tap into a space Gavin didn't even know he was letting him access until now. 

“I don’t know…”

“Yes you do baby.”

Connor’s hand replaces the flogger under his chin and Gavin sniffles. 

“Because you are merciful?”

Connor smiles, pride radiating out of every synthetic pore. 

“Yes, I am. And why is that Gavin?” 

Breath hitches, tears streaming, hips aching against Connors shoe. He doesn’t know. He doesn't want to be wrong…

“Because I am proud of you.” Connor finishes before finally, finally removing his foot. The sound that tears its way free of Gavin’s throat is nothing short of feral. His orgasm takes over his entire body, his hips hump automatically into frictionless air, chasing pleasure as it shoots out his tip and coats his chest, neck, stomach, cock, and the floor. 

Connor could watch this on repeat forever, it invoked the same low burning stimulation that watching his first porn star did so many weeks ago. Gavin is completely overwhelmed with pleasure, an experience that seems rare in humans. He’s absolutely breathtaking to behold. He his body stops twitching, he tells Gavin that. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Gavin pants, chest still panting through the after shocks.

“What was that babe?” Connor teased, with just a hint of his previous Dom tone that he’s now learning Gavin responds to after sex as well.  

“I’m not beautiful.” he mutters, pushing his hair out of his eyes.  

“You are, And you can't see what I’m seeing so you don't speak for me. You’re absolutely gorgeous. I wish I could preserve the moment of your climax forever.”

Gavin’s face flushes bright red. 

“Can’t you already do that?”

“Yes.”

Gavin rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you Gavin.”

Yes he would, everyone always lies to you. No one wants you anymore Gavin. Why do you think you’re here?

Gavin shakes his head before the bad thoughts can get their hooks into his frontal lobe. 

“What the hell are you even talking about, yes you would, you have! And besides you don't need to blow smoke up my ass, we both already got off.”

“I’m not blowing smoke up your ass, I was simply attempting to transition into aftercare.”

That makes Gavin laugh. 

“Aftercare? What did Kamski make you read 50 Shades Of Grey?”

Connor took a minute to respond as he was probably googling what 50 shades of grey was, Gavin used the time to begin to locate his clothes. Oh, well after he got the feeling in his legs back. 

“No, I don't believe 50 shades of grey does a good enough job of describing BDSM elements and relationships as a whole. Nor does it show healthy examples of consent. While there are ‘contracts and labels’ in common, you are free to leave at any point. I would even give you your money back if you wanted. If you’re not enjoying something, I would expect you to tell me, and the same applies to me.” 

Gavin turns around and looks at Connor. Really looks at him. For a long fucking time. 

“Who the phck are you?”  

Connor smirks.  

“Detective Reed, My name is Connor, I’m an RK800 android prototype attempting to pass for human. How am I doing?”

“Frighteningly well.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Perhaps I can I get you that coffee now?”

“T-The coffee from 10 months ago??”

“11 months, two weeks, and 5 days. But, yes Detective, that one” Connor sasses.

Gavin hates the visible shiver it causes him. 

“Fine, phck it, sure, there a phcking food menu too?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Shit, this place really did get better…”

Connor is quiet for half a beat, before asking, 

“So you have been here before?”

“What? Yeah, of course I’ve been here, I'm human aren’t I?”

Connor pulls up the menu screen and adds Gavin’s coffee before opening the folder for food. 

“The first time you came here, and stayed with me, specifically, I asked you if you’ve had sex with an android, you said no.”

Gavin ignores him for the menu, which was over 30 pages long. What did they merge with Cheesecake factory?

“That wasn’t the question you asked.”

“Why are you deflecting Detective?”

Gavin’s eyes glance up from the menu screen, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He felt like he was being interrogated, but lightly? Almost like he was being teased, but also the man was genuinely curious. Fine, time to see how good his skills were. 

“I’m not deleflecting, it's not the same question!” He chuckles, adding a cheeseburger with all of the fixings, fries, and a chocolate milkshake.

Connor eyes the total calorie count worryingly before deciding to just allow it. 

“So, you haven’t had sex with an android?”

“Nope, just you. Lap dances don't count as sex.”

Connor flushes all the way up to his artificial hairline. 

“Oh. I see,” Connor chuckles, understanding the loophole now. 

“You're more than that, by the way.”

Connor looks at Gavin perplexed, attempting to understand what he could be referring to. 

“More than what?”

“Just an android. I mean, I don't think you shutting down on me would have freaked me out as much as it did, if I, didn’t believe I killed something. That there was something in there to kill. I know I’m an ass, but I’m not stupid. t’s not beyond my belief that technology finally got smart enough to create a perfect, indistinguishable, soulless mimic. But that's not what you are.”

Gavin can feel Connor's eyes on him, burning through his skin all the way down to his nerves. Not actually, but when he felt already scrubbed raw, Connor might as well have heat vision. He continues talking to distract from it. 

“Before the revolution, before, all of you woke up, or whatever, the androids, here especially, were different. Way different than you, and I felt that way before you deviated. You’ve always had, I don't know, something in there. Something deviant. I mean, you mouthed off to me on your first day! I’ve never had an android talk back to me, freaked me the phck out. Thought I was actually gonna get shot in the break room.”

Connor laughs at that. 

“I wouldn't have shot you. I didn't have a gun.”

Gavin finally shot him a look, and Connor’s stupid, pleased as shit fucking smile made his heart clench. Goddamn post sex hormones. Always turned him into a sap. 

“The new you is still a lot like the old you. Sassy and cocky as shit. But I can also clearly see Anderson’s bad influences mixed in there too.”

“Mm, yes, I have grown fond of the word ‘fuck,’ and sex.”

Gavin snorts. 

“Yeah babe, I know.” 

There was something else Gavin needs to say, and if he doesn't do it now, it might stay inside for another year. After everything Connor’s done for him, he deserves to know. “Hey, Connor?”

When Connor’s huge expressive eyes are on him his heart clenches. He needs to push through this. Connor’s worth it. “I was wrong. Before. You are alive, and I was pretty phcking stupid to think otherwise. So, I’m sorry about that. About how I treated you. All of it. Really.”

When Connor doesn’t immediately say anything, Gavin instantly worries he fucked up, again. Despite trying to do everything right. When he takes a closer look, he realizes he’s just been shocked silent. His mouth actually drops open after the out of character apology. At least until Gavin glares at it. He didn't like feeling mocked. 

Connor snaps his lips closed and his cheeks flushed pink. Connor was obviously thinking several things at once trying to figure out which is the right to ask first. It was making Gavin edgy to wait. 

“Will you just ask me whatever you’re frying your breadboard over-analyzing?”

Connor’s face scrunches together adorably, and Gavin hates how stupid hooked he was on Connor already. 

“Would, you consider dating me? Officially?”

Gavin obviously didn't expect that question because now his mouth drops open. Unfortunately for him that freed his tongue, which answers without his brain or hearts consent. 

“You, want to date me? Like more than just hook up?”

Connor nods immediately, pink still dusting his cheeks. 

It wasn't a good sign that he actually missed the blue right? That feels like a four-letter-word red flag warning. 

“Yes, and that's not my social relationships program speaking. I swear.”

Gavin looks at Connor for a moment before saying, 

“Yeah, I believe you.”

Connor closes the distance within a fraction of a second but once he was just a breath away, he took his time, looking Gavin in the eye and making his heart sputter and choke weakly like a winter-frozen engine. 

“You mean it,” Connor says finally, and Gavin bites his tongue before it can answer on reflex again. 

Instead he nods, and then Connor’s lips are on his, hard and bruising in a way that took his breath away. He hasn’t felt this plummeted by a kiss since his first kiss with Hank in 2029. He hates what this means for him, but he can’t get himself to pull away. 

Connor kisses differently than Hank, differently than random hook ups he meets at bars, than most people Gavin’s been with because Connor’s curious, genuine, and deliberate. Probably taking fucking notes in that big brain of his, studying him, studying how his body responds to each press and brush of lips. No one’s ever bothered to pay this much attention to him before and Gavin’s overwhelmed by how it makes him feel. Connor tastes like clean silicone, but he feels so much softer than that. Different enough from human skin for him to notice but not enough for him to want to stop.

They are startled apart by Gavin’s arrival of food and the older man actually growls out his disappointment. It causes the sweetest chuckle out of Connor.

“We can always kiss after. We can stay in here as long as you want.”

“Yeah, like I can afford to spend more than I’ve already spent here this week,” Gavin scoffs playfully, but in reality he was hiding his profuse disappointment. 

“I’m sorry for the ambiguity, I meant on the house. I take breaks between clients all the time.”

“Whoa, what? Seriously?”

Connor nods before pointing to his rapidly cooling meal. 

“Eat your food, and then you can ask me more questions.”

Gavin flushes, temporarily forgetting about his food for the conversation but now suddenly starving. 

After he ate three bites Connor continues. “I make my own schedule, Elijah doesn't take a cut of my tips. I can work the floor or in here whenever I want.”

“Sounds too good to be true, sure he's not playing you?”

Connor shrugs. 

“Not entirely, but so far he’s kept things professional, more or less.”

Gavin didn't like the way that statement made his skin feel. Or the way the name struck a familiar, unwelcome cord in both his heart, and his gut. 

“What's more or less?” He didn't really want to press, but he felt a duty to Connor, Hank, and his job to push. 

Connor appreciates his concern. 

“Everything has been mutually consensual Detective, he’s running a clean operation, in legal terms at least. Though I doubt this place would pass a health inspection.”

Gavin unfortunatly agreed with that statement. 

“Alright, well, good. You make sure to let us know if that changes. Hate to learn our ‘isolated incident’ was a pattern in front of our faces all along.”

“I’m very lucky to have two strong officers to protect me.”

Gavin barks his laughter, but it sounds genuine and not forced.

[dia-souls]

🐺 Shinyui fanfic 🐺

Pairing: Tsukinami Shin x Komori Yui

⚠️ TW: Blood Mentioned, Violence, Death, Pregnancy, Toxic relationship, Marriage without love, Tragedy end ⚠️

Author: Admin Irsa

Note: I have been trying to working on it for three days 😷, this one is really something the main couple was supposed to Shinyui but Carlayui is my fav I couldn't control myself to not to add Carlayui in it. I literally deleted a lot of scenes again and again and rewriting it. Reviews are welcomed. I hope you all will like it! It's all for the Tsukinami fans out there!👀 Whom love them like me!

Bloody Throne

"What?! Are you joking with me Shin-kun?"

Shin huffed in annoyance.

"I am not joking Yui. I really want you to do this!"

"Are you sure about what you are asking??!"

"Yes! I am 100 percent sure!"

Shin looked Yui with cold gaze.

"Why are you not gonna do it? ...You said you will give your life for me Yui.... I am not even asking for your life? Is it too much to ask?!"

Yui now looked down. She sighed.

"But.. I love you Shin-kun."

She glanced at her long flowy pink dress. She occasionally looked at the ball. They both were in balcony away from prying eyes of Shin's wife. Yes, Shin's wife.....

"Shin-kun... I think this isn't a good thing to do. Carla-san doesn't deserve this neither your wife--"

Yui stepped away fron him. Her blonde hair now shadowing her face as she felt tears pricking her eyes she tries to control her emotions.

Shin now rolled his eyes. He walked towards her and hugged her. He carresed her hair trying to relax her.

"I just ask a small favour Yui.... You don't need to get this emotional. Besides my current wife is for me to gain political power not for love. The only person, I love is you Yui."

He cupped her wet cheeks to look at her eyes. He didn't take long to kiss her forehead and cheeks.

"If you love me Shin-kun, don't ask me to such a big sin. I am not yours. We shouldn't meet each other like this, I already carry the biggest sin on my shoulders. Scheming against your wife--"

Shin sighed again.

"There is no need to cry, I will make sure that by the end of the game you will be mine so our meeting aren't that much off a big sin! My wife, no that women means nothing. I will make sure she will be dea--"

"No! No Shin-kun. She is innocent. She shouldn't be treated like that--"

"The only thing I care about is that you and me!! I don't care what happens to anyone. Yui it's not her it's everyone!!?"

Yui huffed. She then seperated from Shin's hug and turned away.

"Yui... Will you do it?"

Yui didn't answer but she felt Shin's arm pulling her back. He was now hugging her, his head on her shoulder.

"Yui you know it's my biggest dream to surpass him. What I asked you to do isn’t that difficult. You just need to cooperate. If you don't do it, then I will never have the power to make you mine and to divorce my wife."

He turned her around.

"But Shin-kun, killing Carla-san isn't a good idea. He is your older brother, rightful heir to the throne. Besides snatching something that already belongs to him is wrong---"

"Yui.... Did you forgot what he did to me?!"

He took her hand to his eye which is now gone and covered with patch.

"You already knew how I wished to surpass him to win against him!? And this time he humiliated me infront of those inferior viboras!? What did I do huh? Just told them their place? What type of king bows to inferior being, sacrifice his own brother's eye and apologize to snakes?! "

Yui looked at him with sorrow as she knows how much Shin wants to surpass him and his desires.

"Shin-kun but still we shouldn't stomp so low..."

"Yui whatever I am doing is for us, too I have so many reasons to kill Carla... I want to kill him to prove myself and besides, a king doesn't bow. He doesn't deserve a throne, I am doing this to save kingdom from such an unreasonable king?! More importantly..... I am doing this to get you, to gain the power, to get rid of my wife and to have you, I am doing it for our love Yui! "

Shin seperated from Yui, He gave her a strange blue veil. He turned around to leave.

"This veil has Endzeit. A disease that can only kill a founder. Yui marry Carla and make sure to give this poison in small amount to him."

He turned to look at Yui. Whom was now red because of crying tears were sliding down her cheek.

"Don't cry Yui... If you do this I will become king and our dream to be together will come true. We will live happily... But."

Yui now looked at him with her red eyes. Her hand now weakly held the veil as if she will drop it at any moment, she is disgusted to do such thing to Carla.

"If you don’t do it, consider it the end of our relationship and don't approach me again, it's time Yui for you to prove your love for me."

Shin now looked coldly at Yui hoping this threat will convince her to commit this act.

Yui's hand on veil tightened as she heard his words, her heart was crumbling. Her head was hurting as her love for Shin and desires were fighting against her morals. She looked at Shin pitifully before smiling her tears still were sliding down her cheek.

Whatever sin and thing I will do is for love. God is forgiving man. if sinner sins and ask for forgiveness. Beside isn't everything fair in love and war she is going to do this for love. Carla snatched her lover's eye she will snatch his health.

Yui looked at Shin.

She needs to prove her love.

*TIMESKIP*

Yui nervously sighed as she looked around her bedroom. Her new home. Yui thoughts trail to present events. She is now sitting in bedroom of Carla. She successfully married Carla. Unlike Shin's wife, she doesn’t have any influence or power. She is high priest daughter. Her father was a very respectable individual in society. Church had a great influence in this kingdom thats the reason she was allowed to attend balls and parties.

Carla knows that if he married her he will gain influence from his kingdom which is nothing compare to marrying a foreign princess whom will actually tie her own kingdoms string with his. This is what Shin had done. He married a princess because of this he had a backup. Carla as heir, as king was expected to do same but she knows and Shin too how much Carla loves Yui. He always have loved her if only she will comply he won't hesitate to marry her. He prioritise his love for her over political power.

If only he knew what a big price he is going to pay for his love.

Yui internally was comparing Carla with Shin. Both are brothers but both have different priority. Shin wanted power before her but Carla, he didn't care of how big opportunity, he is going to let go a queen position is no joke after all, he might recieve love from their kingdom but other kingdoms whom were expecting their princesses to be married will be dissapointed and salty.

Yui looked up as she heard door open. She saw Carla entering her room. It's their wedding night after all.

Carla walked closer to Yui and sat on bed. Yui looked at him her heart felt heavy not because of what She is going to do to him but because it felt as if she is going to cheat. Her heart was blackening but love is a pure feeling but she is feeling a burden on her heart.

Carla touched Yui's face, caressing her face gently his hand then went towards her neck to pull her closer to him.

Yui felt tears pricking her eyes but she controlled herself she refuse to reply to his affection and advances whatever she is doing is to satisfy shin not her. She didn't feel anything when carla confessed his love for her, how much he wanted to be her his hands touching her and removing her clothes. He was gentler with her not like thoes husbands whom only care about satisfying themselves using their wife bodies as a plaything. He was being kind with her the scary wedding night stories she heard from her fellows are completely opposite to what was happening to her.

She groaned when she felt Carla getting rougher with her, his pace getting a bit faster, her back hitted the bed, her leg lifted by him. His lips collided with as they both layed bared, his kiss unlike his action was gentle and sweet. He mumbled "I love you" while biting her neck.

_________🌹_________

"Achooo!!... Ach..waghh"

Carla continued to cough black his condition was getting worse councils were noticing it too the way his health was detorating his weakened state yet his sense and gaze remained firmed and cold showing no weakness. Yui heard him coughing. Her heart twisting painfully. She felt so bad but she didn't move from her fake sleeping. She pretended as if she was sleeping while hearing him coughing furiously.

Tears slid down her cheeks but she remained asleep her hand went towards her stomach she was going to be a mother soon. Shin wasn't happy by the news but he told her to wait some more as Carla unlike others was way too strong to pass away soon. Yui wondered what will happen once he dies what about the baby. Shin won't tolerate Carla's baby inside her.

Only Yui knows his health issues as she was always around him. He made her not to tell anyone he was making Yui's mission easier. He once caught veil with her she nervously asked for it back to which in reply he smiled and handed her back at that point she felt something she and him are going to be parents soon their baby--no they both had no future why because she loves Shin and she is going to be with someone whom she loves. Shin loves her and they will be endgame not Carla and him or Shin's wife and him just her and him!

Yui heard Carla finally stopped coughing she remained still his next words broke her heart.

"To think that such a weak man will protect you... I hope I will be able to protect Yui and our child"

Yui felt tears dripping down her cheeks upon hearing his words is it really worth it. She thought her desires are going to take two lives..... Two inncoent life.

_________🌹_________

Shin sighed as he rubbed his temples getting alies is really something how does his brother deal with them?! He thought he is superior and powerful if it weren't for Carla not dying quickly he wouldn't bother doing this dirty work with Carla's child on his way his chance to attain throne decreased he needs to pull Yui out of this mess.

Speaking of Yui only he knows how much rage and anger he feels seeing her next to Carla and their so called child is what caused Shin to go on rampage he saw red but he knows his patience will give him a reward.

"They are so cute!" said one maid.

"Us founders are so lucky to have King and Queen like them they are perfect together I wonder--" said another maid.

In a split second the maid head was smashed against the wall, blood drips to the floor like droplets the wall had cracks on it. The present maid gave a shrill scream in horror, she felt so scared.

"Get out..." Shin said while moving away from scene while stepping on maids hand before moving.

The maid was whimpering to stunned to move.

"I SAID GET OUT!!? DAMN IT!!" He grabbed maid by collar his golden eyes shinning dangerously.

"Don't. Speak. When. You. Know. Nothing!??" He said while throwing the pale maid and getting out off room.

He will kill Carla, he just lended her Yui but she will remain his for forever

"Tch!! Damn it!"

*Few months later*

"No!" Yui said

"What do you mean by no?" Shin asked as he walked towards Yui. To which Yui backed away maintaining their distance.

"I won't give any poison to Carla anymore. He and me have a son together there is no way I am going to let you harm him no my family! "

Yui was than slamed against wall by Shin. Shin gripped her neck applying a bit pressure.

"You realize what you just said?!? Yui we both are lovers we love each other!!?"

"I won't follow your plan anymore!!" Yui said with determination in her eyes.

"A plan?! Yes! A plan for us for our bright future!! I did everything for us!? "

"No!! Shin you did nothing but cause me pain you married your wife for influence but why is she preganant by your child?! You used me as a bait to finish off Carla you did all this just for yourself not for--"

Shin slammed his hand beside Yui. Yui was again crying she was startled.

"Oh really?!! Do you realize how much anger I feel whenever I see you with his child?! I just want you to feel same pain as me Yui! It frustrated me too... but Yui you I love you what I feel for that women is nothing?! I did got her preganant but it was all mistake on my part!! "

Yui than pushed Shin away from her.

"I dont care Shin it's enough! You and me aren't possible... I am your brother's wife. I am ending this relation of us right now. I can't sacrifice my son for your desires!!"

Shin laughed at her, Yui loves him but it's her motherhood that is stopping her from staying by Shin's side. Shin now realized didn't all this started when he reavealed to Yui how much he detest her son as he is sick of hearing all palace talking about them. Since that day Yui has become quite and distant.

"I will kill your son for sure Yui... It's too late Yui.. You will be mine one way or another because I have already pulled strings. Carla will recieve death penalty you and your son will be at my mercy! "

Yui walked towards Shin. She asked in desperate voice.

"What did you do to Carla?! "

"Nothing, I just killed some vibora and pushed blame on him and he will be punished for violating treaty vibora demand his head..... Council members already know of his sickness. He isn't suited to be king because of his health so this give them a reason to get rid of him. I did pulled some strings by using my wife background. He is sentenced to death." He gave a sadistic smile to Yui.

Yui's eyes widened. She immediately ran out to search for Carla. She saw him in a distance being unconscious with alot of black blood. He was being carried by soldier. She sprinted towards him.

"CARLA!!" She yelled but was stopped by soldiers.

"Please!! Stop this please--"

Yui was then knocked unconscious by Shin who was following her.

________🌹________

Yui was kneeling at dungeon floor while crying. Her eyes out as she looked at Carla in cell being restrained who was constantly telling her to stop crying.

"I did wrong to you Carla. It's all my fault. Forgive me please!"

"Hahha.. How does it feel big brother I finally surpassed you. I snatched everything from you."

Carla laughed at him. He looked at him in eyes. His state was literally pitiful but he still seem majestic, his aura still powerful.

"Snatched? Do you really think, I wasn't aware? You snatched nothing from me rather I was ready to give it to you if only you were patient Shin."

Yui and Shin looked at him confusingly not understanding his words, Carla smiled at them.

"I knew it from the start what you both are up to and what's your relation with each other. I wasn't poisoned rather I was already infected with Endzeit long ago. I knew what Yui was doing. My throne would be yours if only you waited one way or another way it was going to be yours."

Carla coughed again.

"But I decided to play with you both for trying to scheme against me. I loved Yui and snatched her from you. Yui and me have a child. If you waited me and Yui will never be married neither she would come to love me. I didn't lose. I spend my last moment with my love. I am ready to go. Yui you can still be happy right?"

Yui's face was red as she was still sniffing. Shin was enraged all this was for nothing. It feels as if he hasn't accomplished anything rather was played by Carla. He suffered watching Yui with him for nothing.

"Execute him right now!!" he gave order to the guard. He grabbed Yui to drag her away from dungeon who refused to leave Carla but Shin still dragged her away.

"Stop crying Yui!? You belong to me!! What is bothering you huh?!!"

"You won't understand what I feel right now Shin!! You used me and betrayed me!! "

"Betrayed you?"

Shin rolled his eyes, he grabbed Yui by shoulders gently this time, he looked at her swollen eyes, her cheeks still wet with tears, he caressed her cheek.

"Yui, don't do this..... you hate that she is pregnant right? How about I kill her and her child off. Our baby will become next king, how about it?! "

Yui's eyes widened in horror.

"You! Shin you realize what you are saying?! That's your baby!! "

Shin rubbed his temples.

"I just don't care... I don't care about her and her child, I care about you. Only you and our child matters to me most. She served her purpose. I will execute her right now!"

Yui pushed him, she was disgusted why? Why did she loved him?!

"You are.... You are a monster. You just care about yourself and your desires matter--"

Yui was then slapped by Shin.

"My desires??! .....MY DESIRES WAS ONCE YOURS TOO!!"

He grabbed Yui by hair.

"Where is my son?"

Yui asked Shin gently this time. She remember putting him to sleep and had maids watch over him. Her heart was racing as her baby thoughts filled her mind, she wanted to hold him right now!!

Shin sighed.

"Dead... Dead like him, he was killed before him actually."

Yui didn't react. She free herself from Shin and ran towards balcony and got on top off it, she felt her head getting heavy, her whole body felt as if she is on fire and she looked at shin.

"So, I will join them...."

"YUI!!! NO..... STOP GET DOWN!! "

Shin sprinted towatds her and try to catch her but Yui's body already had hitten the hard ground, an ugly crack was heard.

"NO!! PLEASE DON'T GO YUI! Why... Why would you do that to me?!! WHY DID YOU ALSO PUNISHED ME?!!"

[chaoticbardlady99]

Lethal Woman- Chapter 6 (GN! AFAB! Reader x Astarion) 18+ MDNI

Author note- work has kicked my ass left right and center. I also deleted my draft of this chapter like three separate times until I finally wrote something I loved.

CW- mentions of still birth, mentions of miscarriage, smut, fluff (I think? Any emotional intimacy is fluff to me 💀), mentions of torture, mentions of rape/sexual assault, mentions of physical and emotional abuse, violence. (I think that may be all? Also this all looks not awesome, but I promise it’s a lot more awesome than you think and not Uber grotesque.)

It’s been mostly edited and I definitely have chapter 7 basically done so I’m anticipating being happy with my draft by Sunday. Happy reading! Thank you for everyone who likes my little self indulgent angst fic!!!!

Also- please remember I take creative liberties. A good chunk of the Nightmasks are dead canonically (RIP my guys) but for the purpose of this story, they are alive. Oh and the names are hard so forgive me for the lack of consistent spelling lmao

Chapter 7

“Ugly, wretched little thing.”

Dahlia’s term of endearment sticks to your brain like- well- an illithid parasite. You are sitting with Karlach and Shadowheart, each of you on your fourth glass of whatever alcohol you could find as the Tieflings jovially celebrate around you. You want to feel the same warmth and happiness everyone else does, but you are too busy trying to ignore the fact that Alfira and Astarion have been talking since the beginning of the party- Alfira immediately walking up to him with her stupid, beautiful face. And her stupid kind heart and pretty voice.

You liked her enough to be her friend, but now? You are struggling not to haul her off by her horns and kick her into the river in the stinking Owlbear den.

Get yourself together Rowan, it was never going to happen anyway.

“Soldier, you might want to stop burning a hole through the Bard with your eyes- Astarion can’t tolerate fire remember?,” Karlach jests and you give her a sour look.

You hadn’t really talked to Astarion since earlier in the day when he had come to your aid when Priestess Gut had a firm grip on your mind, then he fought by your side while you freed Halsin. You had split up after that, him going to help Shadowheart and Karlach and you off to support Wyll and Gale’s group. The fight against Dror Ragozlin and his crew of misfits was easy and Lae’zel evidently enjoyed getting to fight next to you for once. You wanted to enjoy the moment with your companions, your victory just in your grasp, but you had been somewhat distracted during the battle because Minthara’s thoughts had been so Gods damn loud.

You appeared to be the only one experiencing this problem- you assumed that she is specifically targeting you for a reason, but you couldn’t figure out why until she showed you a different image than the fight in front of her.

It was you, standing over a drow female in Menzoberranzan. The alley way is dark with her blood dripping into the cobblestone. You could feel Minthara’s rage- you had killed her lover.

You remember that contract now- It was one of the few you had received where it was required that the target be mutilated and you hated every second of it. Minthara was one of the few people who had ever managed to almost catch you, but you had evaded her successfully. The picture changed, she showed you a flash from Shadowheart’s perspective- it’s you and Astarion, talking in hushed voices and close to each other by the fire. The scene is far more intimate than you realized and certainly incriminating. Her voice boomed in your head.

You killed my lover. Now I’m going to kill yours.

A scream pierced the air as Karlach cried out for Shadowheart. You watched in horror as Shadowheart hit the stone wall hard and dropped flat on her face- unmoving. Karlach was at her side within seconds, trying to get her to wake up. Then Karlach pitched forward after a spell hit her. Karlach was screaming in terror at the top of her lungs and rolling around in pain. You stared at the scene for what felt like hours- rigid and mortified- until Minthara caught your attention again.

Minthara showed Astarion- fighting for his life against her as her blade nicked him and cut him superficially. Thankfully he is a lot faster than her, but your feet were moving before your brain had time to process your actions. Your rage is all consuming- every part of your body feels like it’s on fire.

Between the use of Ghost Step and Spider Crawl, you made quick work of sneaking into the battlefield. You waited for an opening- Minthara and Astarion were neck and neck, blow for blow before Minthara managed to break one of his daggers and slam the hilt of her longsword atop of his head.

Astarion stumbled backwards and fell over on his side. You tried to suppress your own nausea as you watched him struggle to get up as Minthara began menacingly moving towards him. The bloodlust in her thoughts- you could taste it on your tongue. Vengeance is in her reach, but you are not the same you when Tessa died. You will be damned if this bitch of a woman was going to torture two of your closest friends and kill the one person who has made your barely beating, locked away heart a little less heavy to carry.

You cast Evard’s Black Tentacles and manipulated them so that one vine grabbed Minthara’s right hand and ripped it away from the left- her long sword fell to the ground. You picked it up as she screamed profanities at you.

You manipulated another to wrap around her throat and it pulled her down on her knees- she faced the bridge with horror on her face as you stalked towards her with your vampiric stare. You watched as she confronted her own mortality with angry tears- her tadpole hurled profanities at you in Elvish, Drow elvish, and Common. You just smiled at her, sweetly, slowly, like you had perfected for years now.

Minthara’s tears were running down her face and she fought against the tentacles as they squeezed tighter around her throat and wrists.

The next words you had spoken in Elvish- “Say hi to your lover for me”- before you cut her head clean off her shoulders with her own weapon.

You hadn’t looked at Astarion after you had killed Minthara- you were actually too afraid to see the way he may look at you. Would he be repulsed by you? Afraid? You didn’t want to know.

So now, instead, you are stuck watching him flirt with the feminine, beautiful tiefling that you want to go and feed to the resurrected harpies (they aren’t resurrected- yet). You know it isn’t her fault- you just never stood a chance.

“Roo, really, he is barely focusing on her,” Shadowheart says with a roll of her eyes, “he keeps looking over here at you anyway.”

“Oh I’m sure he is after I brutally murdered someone in front of him,” you cross your arms, your tone laced in venom, “yeah that’s a real attractive quality to have- I am capable of brutal MURDER.”

Shadowheart goes to protest, but Karlach beats her to it.

“I don’t know Soldier, he looked pretty dazzled to me.”

You bust up laughing, choking on some of your wine.

“Dazzled, you say?”

“Razzle DAZZLED!” Karlach offers big explosive hands with her statement, “and I mean- he’s into blood so it’s not like you beheading something is all that damning. Maybe he’s really into it.”.

You choke on your wine again, this time it comes out of your nose. You are both dying laughing now, evidently the alcohol had gotten to your heads. It wasn’t because you were making fun of him- it was just the whole idea itself was so ridiculous and the fact that you can nonchalantly talk about beheading a person as an endearing prospect with these two individuals is so bizarre. Shadowheart was laughing despite herself.

Eventually the three of you make your way to the firepit and join Halsin and Gale while they smoke something out of Halsin’s pipe. You ask to try it and it burns your throat as you cough harshly. Halsin laughs hardily and says you’ve passed initiation. Shit, you don’t even remember walking over to the campfire anymore.

Another hour or so passes, Astarion is out of sight and the high has worn off. You feel pleased to see Alfira standing and talking to her friend dejectedly. Maybe he rejected her? You might be a terrible person, but you feel like you already knew that.

You feel overwhelmed all of a sudden by the proximity and warmth of everyone around the fire. You wait for the right moment to remove yourself from the situation- desperately needing a moment of peace and quiet.

If anyone notices you get up, they don’t say anything. You quickly steal another bottle of wine from beside Gale and Halsin and sneak off into the woods.

You crack open the bottle and slowly sip on it as you meander through the woods, finding the secret path to the beach that you have come to adore so much. You had been eyeballing one specific cliff edge ever since you and Astarion had found this place. It wasn’t a massive cliff, but the pool at the bottom of it is deep enough for you to jump into the water without injury. It was something your father used to do with you when you were a child. There was a river that ran outside of your little town and as you moved further into the woods, you could find a waterfall with a deep pool at the bottom. He would teach you flips and different jumps. He had deemed you the world’s finest diver right before he died- cheering you on from the ground below.

You feel warm and melancholy from the memory. Gods you miss your parents.

You drop the bottle of wine and strip down to your underwear and make your way towards the top of the waterfall.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion had finally managed to get Alfira to leave him alone. She is an adorable little creature, but she is not the one on his radar right now. Adorable does not compare to the vision you are- nor the protection you provide.

Astarion had spent the last painstaking hour and a half watching you laugh with quite literally every person in camp who has a crush on you- Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Gale, and even Halsin is fucking smitten now. Gods could you just stop being yourself for five minutes? Astarion needs (and silently wants) your attention to only be on him. It is absolutely crucial to his survival. Speaking of which, where the hells were you?

You were no longer by the fire where he had last seen you before he snuck into Gale’s tent to steal one of the nicer bottles of wine he hoards away from everyone. Astarion had planned on using your shared connection to ask you to meet him at your spot, but now you are nowhere to be found.

Astarion fights the urge to scream out of frustration as he treks through the woods towards the spot on the beach hoping by some miracle that you may already be there.

Astarion stops as your scent hits his nose. He walks around the corner of the rock that you both use as a landmark and freezes when he notices your clothes are sprawled across the ground and a bottle of wine is a third of the way empty. He tries to ignore the ache that is starting to consume his chest. Did you bring someone else here? Shadowheart maybe? You were sitting rather close to her earlier…

Did his three days of stubbornness really just allow you to fall into someone else’s arms?

Astarion’s sinking feeling gets worse when something flashes out of the corner of his eye.

He sneaks around the corner- reminding himself that he is merely just making sure Shadowheart isn’t being… Shadowheart?

Imagine his shock when Astarion doesn’t see Shadowheart at all. Instead, he witnesses you complete a perfect aerial twist before graciously diving into the waves below. He feels completely frozen until you break the water and laugh wildly. Astarion thinks his own heart might start beating from his chest being filled with the sound.

You jump out of the water and race back up to the top of the rock using Spider Crawl- something you had promised to teach him when you found out Cazador had never actually made him privy to the entirety of his capabilities as a spawn.

Astarion grins as he watches you once again go flying into the air, doing a backflip before straightening out, disappearing once again into the water below.

You break the surface and get back onto the shore. You pretend to bow and wave saying “thank you” and “I’ll be here all week.” It’s silly and he’s enjoying every minute of watching you just be yourself.

Astarion knows you aren’t a serious person, not really, but you pretending to bow for an imaginary crowd of adoring fans in a (not) private moment? It feels authentic to your silliness- not just when you and Karlach are joking together.

You are funny, kind, and entirely too cunning- despite what he said three days ago. Your prowess in combat is second to none and you speak a couple different languages- infernal being one of them when he noticed you and Karlach speaking it back and forth like it was also your native tongue.

Elvish is the other one and he only knew that from overhearing what you said to Minthara while he was too busy experiencing shell shock from how quickly you had gotten over to him. Oh and the hit to the head didn’t help either.

Astarion’s thoughts are interrupted when you make eye contact with him and freeze.

You look down at your semi-exposed figure and then up at him.

Astarion flashes you a flirtatious grin and sweeps his eyes up and down your body as you look at him. You are a work of art and the blush that creeps up your neck is an added bonus.

The scars on your body are numerous and varying in degrees of severity. It doesn’t make you any less attractive to him or revolts him by any means; It makes you more real if anything.

“Well hello there, beautiful,” Astarion says melodically as you walk over, “I was hoping I might run into you here.”

“Oh is that so?” you say and put your hands on your hips, teasing him “and to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Astarion smiles widely at you. He holds up the bottle of wine.

“I was hoping I may be able to drink with my most favorite companion at camp,” he looks at you with a sly grin, “but I didn’t think I’d be getting a show. You are delightfully talented in multiple faucets, Darling.”

You smile shyly at him while adorably scrunching your nose.

As you bend down to grab your shirt, you look at your bottle and scratch the back of your head awkwardly.

“I might need to apologize considering I already started without you.”

Not telling me to piss off so that’s an optimistic start.

“Hm,” Astarion hums, cracking open his bottle and taking a drink, “I’ll allow it this once. I suppose I do owe you for my… words the other day.”

“I’ll forgive you,” you say with a mischievous grin, “but for a price.”

“Oh?” Astarion purrs, “and what is your price, my dear.”

“I demand at least half of your spoils in loot.” you say with flourish and over exaggeration- you aren’t even remotely serious.

“No, no, no, “he emphasizes, his finger waving around in the air, “Never. Going. To. Happen.”

“Ugh fine, I guess I’ll just have to accept that you saved my life earlier.”

“I still think you are ahead on that front, but who’s counting really?”

“Definitely not me,” you say and cough a number under your breath.

Astarion playfully glares at you and you giggle in response.

You close the gap between the two of you and gently grab his hand, pulling him to sit down next to you at the edge of the water. Astarion pushes down the giddy feeling that arises- hoping you didn’t notice he flinched when you first went to grab his hand.

You look at Astarion and then your clasped hands- you definitely noticed.

You begin to pull away and he feels his body protest, grabbing your hand back and interlocking them again. Astarion drinks out of his wine, refusing to look at you- this is entirely too intimate. Entirely too much like the lovers he used to hate and envy in Baldur’s Gate, but he can’t bring himself to let go or stop the slight smile that creeps on his lips.

You drink out of your bottle of wine and put your feet in the water. Astarion glances at you and notes the growing grin. He feels a twinge of guilt when he thinks about his plan and how fragile your heart probably is. Astarion pushes it away. Astarion needs his plan to work and so far, it’s working.

The space between the two of you is silent- nothing but the ocean waves roaring in his ears. It’s not uncomfortable, but Astarion doesn’t necessarily know where to start. He wants to begin the process of seducing you, but he’s also unsure of how well that would play out- considering what he’s seen thus far in your memories.

“My dad taught me how to cliff dive,” you say in a melancholic voice, interrupting his thoughts “we would go all the time over the Summer when we lived outside of Daggerford.”

“I was wondering how you had managed to pull off such an impressive feat.”

You guffaw at him and then pout with a glint of humor in your eye. He rolls his eyes at you.

“Fine Darling,” he muses, “I suppose you are rather impressive in all facets.”

Your face is practically burning with his compliment. Astarion has decided he will leave out the bait and let you take it. If you give him any signal or specifically say “I want to have sex” then Astarion will pleasure you and you will see how useful he can be in return for all of your gifts- your blood, your protection.

Your company.

Whatever feelings Astarion felt over the last three days- he never wants to feel again. You have been the one and only person to be kind to him, protect him in 200 years. You treat him with respect and like a friend- not the monster he absolutely is and that you should hate him for being. It had been a very lonely three days without your company-besides, no one else is nearly as fun to converse with. Astarion hears the whisper of a previous conversation in the back of his mind.

“So what does boar taste like?”

“I don’t really have much of a reference, but better than rats and flies,” he scowled.

“Gods, how filthy was that palace?” you murmured under your breath.

Your comment had caught him off guard and he couldn’t help but bark out laughing. You had felt horrible for it- you thought he wouldn’t be able to hear you. In your defense, you had spoken very quietly. Astarion assured you that he found your observation quite peculiar and hilarious.

Astarion likes that you point out the small things and allow him to decide how much of the larger things he wants to tell you. You never push him and Astarion isn’t used to it, but he knows he never wants it to go away- to be treated any other way ever again.

“What else did your father teach you?” Astarion asks softly.

You smile, “My father followed Ilmater. He was a ranger. He dedicated his life to helping others.”

A daughter of Ilmater worshippers turned into a half-dead creature who is forced to kill by an evil vampire, Astarion thinks, I guess even the Gods have a sense of humor.

“What happened to him?”

The pause is pregnant and loud. Astarion notices the single tear that manages to escape your eyes. You clear your throat.

“He’s dead,” you whisper, “a group of Ravagers destroyed our village. They didn’t like that it was a mix of humans and Drows escaping from Lolth- and they especially hated us ‘filthy half breeds’. Made the women and the children watch as they beheaded their fathers and husbands.”

Astarion doesn’t know what to say to something that horrific. He just merely looks at you- waiting for you to continue speaking.

“He just kept telling my mom and I how much he loved us. How he’d always be protecting us,” you manage to choke out, “I can’t even tell you how many times I have prayed to Ilmater for help- only to be reminded how alone I am and that, despite being the God of Compassion, Ilmater doesn’t care.”

Astarion knows that feeling all too intimately, but he wants to hear more.

“How old were you? What happened to you and your mother?”

You are looking at him wearily now, so he gives your hand a squeeze.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to Darling.”

“I want to, I’ve just never talked about it before.”

“Well then,” he states in a flattered tone, “I’m honored to potentially be the first and only keeper of your deep, dark secrets.”

You laugh breathily while you roll your eyes at him. The smile on your face is replaced by an unreadable expression. You take a deep breath before you turn your gaze back to the ocean.

“I was 5. They sold us to a mine outside of Westgate. It was run by a group of fanatics that I can’t even remember the name of anymore,” you shake your head in disgust, “all I knew was that they were terrible people. They threatened us children to get our mothers to do anything they wanted. One of them raped my mother and ‘blessed’ her with a child.”

Astarion squeezes your hand as he feels you tense. You look at him with your teary, angry eyes and the intensity of your emotions- your grief- are written into every crack and crevice of your face. Astarion notes that you look uncomfortable, but he gives you a soft smile, encouraging you to continue. You take a big swig of your wine- he shortly follows.

“I don’t know what happened, but the baby… didn’t make it and mom developed a blood illness. It was the week before she had planned on breaking us out. I didn’t know she was dying- she told me she was going to be okay. I should have known- She gave me everything for the escape and had explained the plan to me so many times in that week she was dying that I can still recite it to this day.”

You chuckle to yourself before pulling your knees up to your chest.

“I asked them if I could have a funeral for her. They took me outside and made me watch while the pigs ate her. They told me that’s the only funeral a Drow deserves.”

“What a bunch of racist assholes,” he states.

“Oh, they were only the biggest.”

“You escaped a prison by yourself then or?”

“I did. I was 9 years old and probably one of the only people who has ever escaped that mine. I haven’t seen anyone from my village since. I went back to Daggerford one time and it was still decimated- no one ever came back to rebuild it.”

You both sit in the heavy silence. Your thumb begins to absentmindedly rub circles along his thumb- the gesture is simple, but it’s probably the softest touch he’s felt in the last 200 years that was not filled with the anticipation of sex.

“I’ve only ever had one failed escape,” you sigh harshly, “I was going to run away with Tessa because I didn’t want to go through the ceremony to be a Deathbringer, but Dahlia didn’t care what I wanted. She was too busy trying to win Obarhk’s favor.”

“How did you end up with Dahlia then? If you didn’t want to be a Deathbringer?”

You scoff and he sees the resentment behind your eyes.

“I was 13 and had been living on the streets for a while by then. I had my little tent and I had managed to convince one of the local inns to let me clean the rooms,” you scrunched up your nose, “it was gross, but decent work and they fed me once a day; let me use the baths. Sometimes they even gave me extra food and if it was cold out, they’d let me stay in a room if there was one available. I didn’t have to steal food anymore which was nice. I was actually very happy. I was saving my money so I could travel to the Underdark and hire a sword to go with me- to my grandparents- like my mom had told me to do.

“Then one day, a few of the other local boys, also urchins, had watched as I was given a decent amount of gold and a burlap sack of food. They followed me to my tent. I had offered to share and to give them some gold to help, but they didn’t want just some of it- they wanted all of it and all of me too. I thought I was going to die- the fight was brutal and they were so much bigger than I was, but I wasn’t as easy to take down as they had thought.

“Right as they had slammed my head into the pavement, right when I thought it was over- an Ilmater Priestess had appeared out of no where. She had killed them all. She came up to me, was kind to me, promised she would protect me, give me a home, teach me how to be stronger than anything else in the dark while she helps me travel to the Underdark. I was thrilled. I thought Ilmater had finally heard all my prayers. Then she took me outside of the city- I thought we were maybe going to a temple. I was so naive and stupid.”

Your voice breaks and you struggle to compose yourself- taking a shaking breath.

“She changed- the kind Ilmater priestess I had just been following to safety ended up being the Queen of Venom and a Sharran priestess nonetheless,” you spit out with disgust, “Dahlia stripped me of my clothes- she beat me, cut into my skin, threw me around. Dahlia kept telling me how ugly, wretched, small, and weak I was for hours- how she would be the only person to ever love me from now on. Then she chained me down to the floor, unmoving for I don’t even know how long in the dark. I just know when she finally came back, I was on the brink of death. She starved me and refused to give me water until I stopped asking her to leave. I stopped, but then I learnt how much worse it could be. I also began to accept that I would probably never be free again.”

“Are you free now?”

“Barely. A bit over a year ago I was assigned to the Faceless himself.”

“What changed?”

“I won the Deathbringer Tournament and Lady Thistle Thalaver, the fucking consort of all people, said that she wanted me to be assigned as her personal Deathbringer. Thistle made the point that we are close in age and it would make her happy to have someone she can talk to and protect her. News flash- I was more horrified by that than Dahlia. How the fuck does someone who is a literal husk of a person become the prize comfort pet of the Consort that is the reason you were even kidnapped to begin with,” you say, throwing your hands up in frustration, “Dahlia hated her. She was envious of her already and boy, when Thistle asked for me? I thought Dahlia might kill me and Thistle right there if Obarhk hadn’t stepped in.”

“She sounds like a sore loser.”

“ Oh she is, this grudge has lasted a little over a century or three supposedly. I can’t ever seem to get the exact date right, but Dahlia had allowed Obarhk to change her and became one of his Nightmasters because she had hoped to be his Queen and consort,” you shake your head, “it was childish- supposedly. Obarhk was going to go through with it initially, but then Thistle’s father had extensive debts to the guild and offered his only daughter as payment.”

“What a shitty father.”

“Oh the shittiest,” you agree pointedly.

“If she wanted you to help her gain his favor, why did she hide you away?”

“There are rules within the Guild for how recruits are to be treated. Obarhk plays with his cards very close to his chest and he has an absurd amount of political pull. He doesn’t want word getting out that the Nightmasks beat their assassin’s and thieves, but not their Deathbringers- it’s bad for recruitment. Guess they used to do that and damn near went extinct, not everyone is into becoming half-vampire” you shrug, “Dahlia had ‘presented’ me to gain Obarhk’s favor- not his consort’s. She lied and said I sought her out days ago, begging to get a chance to become a Deathbringer. When I was asked if it was true, I said yes, the alternative was whatever hell awaited me later. At least if I didn’t survive the ceremony, I would be laid to rest.

“Except Thistle won. Obarhk may not be particularly loving towards Thistle, but he won’t deny her what she wants if it’s reasonable. I was still under Dahlia, but now if I disappeared for days on end or came back beaten, it was noticed. A year ago, Lucia and Ghost found me bleeding out in a street with Dahlia over me- it was the first time she had done serious harm to me since the ceremony and the first time she was caught,” he watches you smile despite yourself, “Thistle wanted her to be tortured for what she had done- for creating the infamous ‘Hollow Deathbringer’ as I was called when I first started, but Obarhk doesn’t interfere with religious affairs and Dahlia claimed it was for her Sharran worship. So the solution was that I would report directly to him, Phultan, Lucia, and Lady Thalaver only. If Dahlia attempts to hurt me again, I am allowed to end her life and if I attempt to attack Dahlia, she is allowed to end my life. She isn’t allowed to send her assassin’s after me either or there will be consequences. That’s the same day I found out Dahlia had been lying to me- she is Obarhk’s spawn, not a Master Vampire. She never would have been able to get away with half of her threats if I had known, but I’m sure that’s partly why she isolated me from the Guild until I was old enough and skilled enough to compete.

“We’ve been in a very strange stalemate over the last year. Unable to find each other, but I don’t even know if I could kill her anyway. At least, not by myself.”

It was a lot to take in at one time. Your entire world is so heavily influenced by vampiric beings- no wonder you were so nonchalant about him being a spawn and him feeding from you.

Astarion will admit though, he isn’t necessarily thrilled to find out another sociopathic vampire might be hunting them- specifically you.

“Darling, if Dahlia ever darkens your door step ever again,” he leans toward you and speaks his next words with conviction, “I’ll rip her throat out myself.”

You smile at him and squeeze his hand.

“ Thank you Star, but you don’t need to do that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t listen to hypocrites- Miss ‘I’m going to put Cazador’s head on a pike and we can parade it around the city’”

You gasp, “how dare you! I felt like that would be a fun leisure activity.”

“Oh believe me, it will be very fun,” he says with a malicious grin,” but someone needs to keep you humble, my dear.”

“Oh okay,” you roll your eyes, “because I’m the one who needs humbling here. Thank you for your service kind sir, I will never be able to repay you.”

He can tell that you are done with the previous conversation- he’ll have to thank you for sharing later and ask follow up questions. Astarion has a plan to execute.

“Well of course,” he lifts your clasped hands and kisses the back of yours, “ I live to be a hero for the common folk.”

“You’re lucky you’re a beautiful bastard.”

“Why thank you, my Dear. I am rather beautiful, aren’t I?”

You turn, facing him now and you move closer- giving him a light shove. One of your eyebrows is lifted in amusement- a lopsided grin on your face. This is most definitely the moment he has been waiting for.

He leans in, your faces near inches apart and he savors how your heart begins to race.

“I must admit, I was lying to you before,” he muses, “I maybe would like to do a little more than just drink wine with you tonight.”

“Y-you do?”

Astarion smiles at the way your breath hitches.

“Well of course, I believe you may be one of the most bewitching individuals I have ever had the pleasure of meeting,” he says while gently brushing your hair behind your ears, “but only if that would be okay with you.”

You look at him- there is lust in your eyes and you worry your bottom lip with your teeth. One of your canines graze your lip and a bit of your blood begins to paint your lips- Astarion fights the urge to smash his lips to yours. You search his face for deception.

“I want to. Very badly,” you pause, “but I need to be open with you. I’ve only ever been with one man before and it wasn’t my choice. That was over 10 years ago. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to go completely through with it or give you some wildly fun time… it would probably be vanilla at best even if I can get through it…”

You trail off and look at the ground, gently pushing his hand away from your face. Astarion frowns.

“If you want someone who you can actually have fun with, it might be better to go find Alfira again,” you whisper woefully, “I would absolutely understand. No harm, no foul.”

Astarion’s heart breaks for you. He gently guides your eyes back to his. You look sad and dejected -like you are ready for him to get up and walk away. You are expecting him to confirm what Dahlia has always told you- that you are an ugly, wretched, little thing. Unloveable at best and absolutely unforgivably intolerable at your worst. Astarion has slept with plenty of virgins before- he knows how to say all the right honeyed words to get them to bed, but this is entirely different. This is you and your first, consensual time with a man if you choose. If you don’t, then he won’t press the matter, but leave his door wide open. Astarion is not Cazador or Dahlia- he is not going to force you.

“I don’t care about any of that Darling,” Astarion assures you quietly, “I want you, not Alfira. We only have to go as far as you are comfortable with- if you want to.”

Your eyes are wide and searching for any hint of insincerity.

“We could even try multiple times if needed,” he says jokingly, but he knows that you can tell he’s serious.

You beam at him and your posture straightens up- a new found confidence in your eyes.

“Okay,” you finally say, “I trust you. I want to try.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You would be lying if you weren’t feeling slightly anxious. The last person you had been with was Tessa and she’d been in the ground a little over 8 years now. The two of you had made a lot of groundwork in your last year together before she died. You had attempted to be with others before, but it never felt right so you could never go through with it.

This feels right. You just aren’t sure what your reaction will be, but you want him and Astarion wants you. You trust that he won’t hurt you.

Astarion pulls you up off of the sandy floor and gives you a smile, “I promise you, you do not want to try this in sand. I happen to know a very nice spot, but we are going to have to make a brief stop first.”

You smile enthusiastically and allow him to take your hand in his as he leads you back to camp.

The walk is a blur, you barely notice that Astarion had grabbed a blanket, taken you quite far from camp, and without warning, Astarion pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss.

You have to fight the urge to collapse completely into him, your arms snaking around his neck as you kiss him back. The kiss is slow, melodic and soft. Astarion’s strong arms hold you close to his chest as he picks you up before laying you down on the blanket.

You help him discard your clothes and your wet under garments. Astarion quickly discards his shirt and pants before he returns to kissing you sweetly, softly. You let your hands glide up his torso to his shoulders and let your hands fan out as you try to memorize every inch of his body. He groans with approval at the touch and when you go to touch his back- you find if you go a little too far over where there is raised skin, he tenses up.

You stop and look up at him- he doesn’t seem like he is all there.

“Star, are you okay? Are you sure you want this?”

Whatever trance he is in, he seems to snap out of and he kisses you sweetly before placing his forehead against yours.

“I assure you that I want this, that area is just… it has some sensitive spots.”

“Okay,” you whisper, “I’ll be mindful of that and try to avoid them. Is it mostly in the middle of your back?”

Astarion stares down at you and for a moment, you think he might start crying. Astarion’s face looks so raw and appreciative in that moment- as if you are the first and only person to ever take the time to listen. Maybe you are. Maybe this is just as much of a fear of his as it is for you.

“It is,” he says huskily,” I- thank you.”

You beam up at him and gently cup the left side of his face with your hand. He leans into the touch and you stroke his cheek bone with his thumb.

“Of course Astarion, I want you to feel safe too.”

Astarion kisses you with a neediness that wasn’t there before. The kisses are still soft and innocent, but a bit more urgent as his hands begin to slowly roam your body. Everywhere he touches leaves you feeling like you are on fire and you find that you never want it to stop. You are intoxicated and so wrapped up in his cologne, his lips- everything. Him.

Astarion’s lips leave yours and you breathlessly look at him. He smiles down at you and slowly moves his hands up to your breasts.

“May I?”

You shyly nod in approval. Astarion slowly begins to pinch and tease your sensitive buds with his fingers- you arch your back and cover your mouth as you whimper needily at the touch. It’s embarrassing how touch starved you are. Astarion pulls your hand away from your mouth and he stares at you through hooded eyes.

“None of that, my Dear,” he commands, “I want to hear every little sound you make.”

You blush and then are quickly squirming underneath him again as he gently takes one of your nipples between his mouth, sucking, licking, and teasing it while he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger.

You are a complete mosning mess underneath him by the time Astarion’s fingers move from your breast to your throbbing clit- earning a loud, despairing whimper from you. You need so much more- you can feel your own slick coating the inside of your thighs, weeping in anticipation.

“My, you are a very needy lover,” he chastises you as he slides a finger in,” Gods you are so wet for me already. If I had known you wanted me this badly, I would have said something a long time ago.”

“Astarion-“ you gasp as he enters another digit inside you, causing you to arch your back keening as he teases your G-spot. His other finger continues to play with your now very swollen clit and with every moan you make, he praises you. The praise alone is enough to send you over the edge.

“You are being such a good girl for me,” as he enters another finger inside.

His mouth hovers over your clit, “I’m absolutely certain the Gods sent you to ruin me.”

“You taste like the heavens,” after his tongue has been flicking inside of you in tandem with his fingers.

You come undone underneath him- your hands have made purchase in his hair, and struggle to be as gentle as possible. He groans as you gently tug him up to your mouth, kissing him, tasting yourself on his swollen lips.

“Do you want to continue Darling?” Astarion whispers as he kisses up your neck, along your jaw, and slowly nips at your earlobe.

You need him inside you and you want him to be as close to you as possible. It’s like a Dam had broken open inside you and you never want it to stop flooding.

“Fuck- Astarion,” you pant, “please continue.”

Astarion kicks of his undergarments and dips his fingers between your folds and coats his cock with your orgasm. You are speechless as you watch him slowly stroke himself, looking at you.

Astarion puts himself in between your legs and you feel him tease your entrance.

“Before I start,” he says, “you need to tell me if it’s too much and if we need to stop. You will not offend me nor hurt my feelings. We can try again another time if you want.”

“The same goes to you.”

There was that look again. Astarion grabs your bottom lip between his teeth, the neediness has certainly grown since the last statement.

You feel him begin to guide himself inside you, slowly moving until he’s bottoming out- curse words and your name leaving his lips like a prayer. You feel the tears prick your eyes at the pinching and pressure as you adjust to his size. He slowly rocks himself in and out, barely making any movement, but enough to stimulate you more.

“Are you okay?” He says with alarm, wiping your tears.

“Yes- I promise,” you say between panting whimpers, you press your ankles into his lower back to keep him there. It’s beginning to feel better and you open up through the tadpole to show him you mean it. The thoughts were probably far hornier than you meant to show him and he smirks at you.

“Cheeky pup.”

Astarion begins to make his thrusts longer as your moans became louder and more euphoric sounding. You kiss him with fervor as he pumps in and out of you, keeping a slow pace.

“You can speed up now,” you whisper between kisses, “you feel really fucking good inside of me Star.”

Astarion moans against your mouth, the kiss becoming sloppy as he teases your bottom lip between his, pulling slightly. You feel his hips begin to snap slightly harder against yours and you cry out as he begins to hit that perfect spot faster and slightly harder.

“You are so beautiful,” he says while grazing the sensitive skin on your neck, “and you feel so fucking good around my cock.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand any of our other companions looking at you sideways ever again.”

“Then give them a reason not to.”

That seemed to be enough for Astarion as he immediately goes to work leaving hickeys along your neck, your shoulders. You will have to ask him how he’s able to do it so gently.

Astarion’s thrusts inside you are getting sloppier and you have your hands dug in the earth as he slightly lifts you off the ground to get more leverage. You moan his name in between curse words and whimpers as another powerful orgasm rips through your body. You feel him stutter as you tighten around him and finish inside of you. Astarion’s pace moves to a slow rhythm before coming to a halt.

Vampire and half-vampire perks- the whole kid thing? Basically not even remotely possible.

Astarion lays gently on top of you, kissing your neck lazily.

“How was that, Darling?” Astarion asks as he looks into your eyes with concern and worry.

You gently grab his face with your hands and leave a chaste kiss on his lips.

“It was absolutely perfect,” you say, your brain foggy and swimming in the throes of bliss and your deep fondness of the man above you, “you are absolutely perfect.”

************************************

You had fallen asleep quite some time ago in Astarion’s arms. The concept of what happens after sex (normally) was quite foreign to him. Usually he was dragging people to their death after sex, but now he gets to sit and enjoy you- have you all to himself. After it had all been said and done, you had curled into one another, practically nose to nose and just talked. You caught up with each other about what the other missed over the last three days, picked the next ideal type of book to read, and how disasterous the Crèche is likely going to be considering Shadowheart is insisting on going. Lae’zel is positively miffed about it. You laugh and he asks about Minthara. You tell him about the vision she showed you, but he could tell you were holding something back. You don’t push him- he won’t push you.

You tell him about your mother- a former Lolth sorceress who didn’t align with the Spider Queen’s ideals. She was shunned by her parents when she denounced Lolth and she moved to the surface- meeting your dad. Your mother was practical and pragmatic- calculating and protective. Your father, on the other hand, was like a warm breeze on a perfect sunny day.

Astarion tells you about what little he remembers of his life as a Magistrate and his parents. You both ponder what they could possibly be doing in the world right then- pretending there is a possibility that you could find them together when this was all over- even just so he can know.

Astarion’s head is swimming with confusion. It was all very different than when Astarion had gone out hunting for Cazador.

You and him had spent at least a two and a half weeks getting to know each other extensively, spent quality time together over mutual hobbies, and you’ve even seemed to meld together as a fighting duo. You are friends- Astarion expected it to be maybe slightly different, more enjoyable than usual.

Astarion was quickly proven wrong.

This was eons different. Despite the feelings of it being tainted to some degree due to his past, it had been jaw dropping, sweet, simple, and, dare he even say it, intimate. Astarion finds that he actually craves more of you this way, but he also still wants you the way you had each other before. The shame and self-loathing are choking him. There is no way you’ll see him as something other than sex now.

Right?

Astarion honestly isn’t sure and that terrifies him. You were so kind to him tonight while you were in his arms. You respected his boundaries; you avoided that part of his body even though he didn’t tell you not to; you wanted him to feel safe with you too. You took the time to talk to him and play with his hair while he spoke about his parents, becoming a bit emotional.

Vanilla is hardly the word to describe what just happened between the two of you- it was wonderful and frightening. Astarion questions if it’s selfish to want more, to abandon his plan all together.

Astarion stares down at your sleeping face as your limbs are tangled with his. He wants to stay, but he wants to run away from you too. Except Astarion needs your protection- that’s what this was all for, wasn’t it?

That’s what compels him to leave soft kisses on your forehead and to hold you a little tighter- it’s why tears fall from Astarion’s cheeks onto the blanket beneath you when he thinks about the day you’ll end up letting him go.

[disillusioneddanny]

Bones Exposed deleted scene

I wrote this for my fic Bones Exposed but it just didn’t fit right in the scene I originally wrote it for but still really enjoyed the small scene. I might try to figure out where I can put it later on. If you haven’t read the fic, you can check it out here on my ao3 profile.

TW: talks of attempted suicide.

Danny sighed and ran a hand over his face as he stared down at the soft carpeted floor. Tim was sitting next to him, his eyes never leaving Danny’s form. And why would he look away? Danny had just shown him that he was Phantom, someone that Tim had said over and over was his favorite hero.

“I tried one time, you know,” he said, unable to look at his friend. “Especially after everything was over. After my parents were arrested and Jazz stopped talking to me and I was alone. It wasn’t even hard, that’s what was so scary. I was twenty years old and I got the gun from some random Gothamite. I tried and it was like my core spit it out.”

Danny let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Ironic isn’t it? My ghost half is actively killing me, every day my human side gets weaker and weaker, the chronic pain, the seizures, they get worse. But the one time I tried to actually just end the suffering, my ghost half just wouldn’t let me. How fucked up is that? So here I am, slowly dying and theres not even a way I can do it on my own terms. I’m a prisoner to my own body and there’s nothing I can do.”

[acerathia]

The Apple of my Eye - Behind the Scenes

Summary:

While spending the summer at your grandparent’s place, an accident leads to a fateful encounter with Izuku. Yet you reject this first meeting, seeking to craft a proper first impression. Yes, but what happened behind the scenes of the making of this piece?

Pairing:

Midoriya Izuku / Reader (in the OG)

Wordcount: 2.9k

Read it on AO3 / The Apple of my Eye (OG)

Note:

I just thought it might be fun to write some outtakes and compile the scenes, which didn't make the final cut to the fic, enjoy <3 (also, would be so cool if u checked the OG fic lol)

Outtakes

“Ow, are these apples real?” his voice sounds and you look down at him, a pained expression on his face.

“Oh, no, did I actually hit you?” you clamper down, a giggle evident in your voice.

He supports you as you take a small leap onto the ground. “I thought it was supposed to? I just thought the apples weren’t real…” he answers, his hand rubbing against the tender spot.

You laugh as you carefully pat his hand on that spot. “Izuku, of course it’s going to be a real apple, this is a real tree. Why else would we be doing this outside?”

He simply shrugs with a small pout.

“C’mon, we gotta start over,” you pat his cheek softly, an encouraging smile on your lips, before you look into his eyes and press your lips together to avoid bursting into laughter again.

He puts his tongue out to you, before he begins walking away.

***

“Great take! The choking looked really good, we can move onto the next scene,” you hear the director as you croak one last cough.

“Thanks, but I actually choked,” you mumble, making eye contact with Izuku before bursting into laughter together.

While you both are recovering, still giggling here and there, an assistant hands you some water and asks you if you’re good.

“Yeah, I’m good. At least the realism of this scene cannot be refuted,” you grin as you sip from your water. “Izuku actually noticed and immediately switched up on me.”

“Hey, I was worried for you, but sure, make fun of the poor hero,” he grumbles, but there is a wobble in his voice that betrays his amusement.

Your grin only widens. “I mean, your acting is weak as it is, the realistic situation seemed to help, didn't it?”

He gapes at you, bumping his shoulder into yours. “Now you’re kicking a man already onto the ground.”

You take another sip of water and shove him with a giggle.

***

“Cut!”

You take a deep breath. “Fucking hell, Izuku, you’re going to kill me,” you whine and throw your head back.

“So, you think I should change my hairstyle?

“Shut up!”

***

“Look! It’s beautiful up there, I took pictures!” you wave your phone the moment you step out of the wheel.

“Aren’t you supposed to come out all sad?”

“Oh, fu–”

Deleted Scenes

“Hello! Should we go in?”, he asked and held the door open.

You nodded and went inside, asking him what kind of smoothie he’d like. With his preferred beverage, you went to the cashier to order your drinks, while he found you a place to sit outside. You thought you were going to sit inside, but maybe he noticed you enjoying the weather. You had to giggle at his thoughtfulness.

After the drinks were ready, you grabbed them and went looking for him. He was already sitting under a parasol, waving at you to get your attention. You immediately joined him, putting the drinks on the table before sitting down.

“Here we go. I’m glad you could make it.”, you said with a slight smile, trying not to get distracted by his brilliant and dazzling eyes and smile. It was difficult, especially considering that you didn’t meet since that event, but rather texted. You felt quite shy, almost like he was another person.

“Yeah, me too. To be honest I was quite nervous.”, he answered with a shy giggle, rubbing his neck and you had to control yourself not to squeal.

After some exchanged words you both started talking like you had been acquainted for some time. Even if you technically knew each other, it was different to talk in person. You noticed so many quirks about him, which made you like him more, not that you were ever going to tell him anyway. But you enjoyed his explanations, his analysis of whatever topic he started talking about. You just liked to listen to him being excited about his favorite things and you decided to do some research about the topics, making mental notes. And you couldn’t help but like the way he moved his scarred, calloused hands, almost like they were helping him with his explanations. Sometimes you would also tlak about your interests, and he always listened, never interrupted, even if he had something to say. Exchanging these topics you began to discuss different things at such a depth, you never had the same possibility with anyone else. He seemed to hold so much knowledge and you admired that a lot. He even knew about your major in university, almost as good as you did.

While enjoying this talk, you couldn’t help but feel guilty about the first time you saw him. The accident about the apple. You had the urge to tell him about your involvement, before you both got too deep into this. And with that before you got too deep into this between you. You could escape a crush, but even a tiny step more towards love? You would be heartbroken for the rest of your life.

So you took a deep breath. “Midoriya-kun, I need to tell you something… I’ve met you before that event at the stall… Even if it wasn’t really… meeting, more like… Uh… The day before, didn’t an apple fall onto your head?”, you stuttered, not having planned this at all. You then continued speaking when he slowly nodded, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows. His bottom lip slightly jutting out and you erred for a moment, getting distracted.

You shook your head to get yourself out of your daze. “Yes! Uhm, that was me… Sorry! I didn’t see you and… and just let the apple fall… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”, you apologized, bowing your head. “And… and I didn’t tell you earlier, because I- uh, I wanted you to like me, is that weird?”

A breath escaped you and you stared at the table in front of you. At least he could get mad and it was over, before you completely lost yourself. But he didn’t raise his voice or leave, no, rather he started giggling.

“Hm, I knew it was you. I looked up, you weren’t hidden that well. And, well, I approached you the day after with purpose too, so I guess we’re even?”, he smiled and cocked his head.

Your head snapped up and you looked at him, mouth opening and closing, before deciding on a ‘what?’.

“You were interesting, and I wanted to get to know you”, he shrugged and leaned back, his giggles directed at your shocked face.

You leaned forward and slapped his arm slightly. “That’s so mean! Do you know how much I thought about that?”, you pouted while softly slapping him over and over again.

He just gave you a broad grin and took your hand into his. “Yeah? You already paid for that smoothie. How about I compensate you? Join me for the summer festival.”

His suggestion felt like a punch to the face, to the gut, a punch in general. He was a boxer and you were nothing but that training equipment he regularly beat. And for some reason you didn’t mind, as long as he gave you that brilliant, beautiful smile, you would agree with anything he said. So you nodded, feeling his thumb rubbing against your skin.

And suddenly the warmth was gone and he was clapping his hands together. “Awesome!”

After that he acted like he didn’t just manipulate you into agreeing (who were you kidding, you would have agreed even if he hated you guts). You both deviated into other topics, finishing your drinks. And even if your glasses were finished, you both remained at your seats, increasing the word count with every minute.

You both only noticed the time passing when the shopkeeper had to remind you of their closing time in fifteen minutes. You both immediately apologized, leaving the table and bringing the glasses back to the front desk.

Looking at the time you decided to go home, not wanting to say goodbye but having to. It seemed like he didn’t want the day to be over just yet, as he suggested walking you home. It was getting dark and there were no lamps on the streets, couldn’t have you walking on your own. And you agreed, excited to talk to him some more.

And maybe you took the long way back and maybe he knew, and maybe you both walked as slow as possible, but none of you spoke about it and none of you cared. So you let the evening welcome the night and before you knew it, you were looking at the clear sky with him at your side. He seemed to know a lot about constellations too, so he started showing them to you, sometimes stepping closer to make it more accurate. And you liked his warmth by your side and the brushes of your hands, and your heart was beating inside you, you were afraid he could hear it, if he stepped any closer.

You almost cursed the moment the cottage came into your sight, but you reminded yourself to maybe ask him on any star seeing soon. After your date at the summer festival maybe. You thought he would like that. Maybe. And maybe you were thinking too much and getting too much into it.

You bid him goodbye, wanting to hug him, but realizing that you both weren’t at that stage yet. So you just waved and waited until the night swallowed him to go inside.

***

And despite your attempts of avoiding villains and fights, it seemed like such situations were a normal occurrence, and unavoidable. You cursed your company and their choices. But with every fight you learned more about this hero-culture, and it resembled the celebrity culture in the early 21st century in the US. With polls, merch and websites. You even stumbled across fanfiction, and you had to admit, these were quite enjoyable.

You also discovered who that Deku was. The current number one hero. Which was weird, because every time you encountered him when in crossfire, he seemed to fumble a lot. Were all heroes like this? You had wondered. But no, the other heroes seemed more confident, one even yelled at you. Despite your lack in the language, you could recognize the signs of curses, and you were about to deck him, but you weren’t there on vacation. If you were, he would at least have a bruise somewhere before they could put you in a police car. But alas, you needed to keep the company image intact.

So you minded your own business. Or at least you tried to. This place seemed to hate you, because how else were you supposed to explain your current situation?

You just were craving some kind of chocolate, and decided to leave the house to go to the next convenience store. And you found the exact stuff you needed to settle in front of your laptop with a good movie, and maybe you bought more than just chocolate, but nobody had to know. And you were so excited for your relaxed night, you didn’t notice the people sneaking up behind you, or they used some kind of quirk, you weren’t quite sure. The thing was, you fainted, for some reason, effectively losing your food to the harsh ground. And you only realized your loss after you woke up in a dark space, tied to a chair. You immediately cursed through the tissue inside of your mouth. You spent money on your food, and now the rats were having a feast. Were there any rats in this place? You weren’t sure, but someone else was enjoying your food, and you disliked the thought.

You started thrashing, trying to get whoever did this to you to notice you. And a person with some weird mask approached you, and assuming you did get kidnapped, he probably was a villain. He started talking to you, monologuing like an old school villain. How many movies do these people watch? This was getting ridiculous. After he finished, he pulled the knot out of your mouth, expecting some kind of coherent answer, something like ‘you won’t get away with this’ or ‘a hero will help me’. But you didn’t know what exactly he said in the first place, so you opened your mouth. And started to talk incoherently, just blurting all of your thoughts out, in every possible language you knew. And he didn’t seem to know any of them.

“No! Why… My food… I’m so hungry! Did I leave the stove on? Do I have a stove? I don’t remember… Uhhh, the company is at fault, shoulda gotten myself any kind of insurance, this sucks…”, you just said, and you didn’t stop talking, until he put the tissue back into your mouth, trying to choke your voice out, but you continued talking, or just making random noises, just to mess with him.

You started to think he was regretting this, and you hoped he would just let you go, when he left the room again. You got silent the moment the door closed behind him. There was no reason for you to look around and look for any possible exits, your joints were practically glued to the chair and you doubted you could free yourself without breaking some bones. And that would make you incapable of running. So the ideal case would be a hero arriving, the less ideal case would be you tricking him, in any possible way. And honestly, you wanted to avoid that, because if captured, it could mean a worse experience in this place.

And annoying him might just work well enough. But apparently not good enough, as he came back and began to build something in front of you, some kind of tripod and a camera- oh. He was holding you hostage, but you didn’t even know for what or why. There was no reason for anyone to hold you hostage, unless they were from another pharma company, but they shouldn’t even be aware of the current negotiations. You really hoped it wasn’t due to your carelessness, because the company will blame you and not help you in any case. Which sucked. But you had no other choice but to pull through. Somebody would do anything, at least your country, because you were a citizen.

Still didn’t make the situation better, especially when he turned the camera on and grabbed your head to pull it up, for some reason. You already were looking straight up, but you supposed he wanted some kind of power feeling or whatever.

He was monologuing again, this time into the camera. You just rolled your eyes and leaned back into your chair, staring at the ceiling and zoning out. How many times had you been kidnapped already? Too many times for sure, but usually it was connected to your work and usually the kidnapper was the concurrence, not some kind of villain.

He didn’t like the outcome or your reaction, why else would he punch your face? You bit on your tongue and you wanted to spit onto his shoes, but he still had you gagged. So you just gave him a disappointed stare, and he just went and turned the camera off. Maybe he was beginning to realize that you didn’t understand him, because he didn’t even address you anymore. He just left.

You were alone in a dimmed room. There was nothing for you to do but to make up some scenarios in your head, these fanfictions you read really influenced you. You would love to sleep, but you would rather not get a kink in your neck. That would be really uncomfortable when you would start working later on. Even if it would probably take awhile for someone to actually get you.

Or so you thought. Because it probably only took a couple of hours for someone to sneak through the door. You had to blink a couple of times, because the number one hero was in front of you, and it was ridiculous, it was nothing but a kidnapping, they didn’t have to get someone like him involved. Unless the company demanded that, maybe they did. Well, no matter how it happened, he was releasing you from the ropes. You rubbed your joints to get some circulation back and immediately walked to the door, telling the hero you were ready to go. He probably hadn’t expected anyone to adjust like that, but time wasn’t on your side and you would rather be gone before the villain notices.

Outtakes of deleted scenes

“Yes! Uhm, that was me… Sorry! I didn’t see you and… and just let the apple fall… I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “That’s a lie, you saw me! And you didn’t tell me it was a real apple!” he raises his voice with accusation.

“I cannot believe you would blame me for your own incompetence! Who would go to an apple tree and NOT expect real apples?” you counter immediately.

For a moment you both just glare at each other before bursting into laughter.

“Why did you go off script?” you ask with a sigh, yet the corners of your lips still wobble dangerously.

“I need to tell the truth, everyone needs to know what kind of person you are!”

***

“No! Why… My food… I’m so hungry! Did I leave the stove on? Do I have a stove? I don’t remember–,” you burst out laughing before you could finish your little monologue. “Sorry! Sorry! Why am I talking about stoves in the first place?”

The person in front of you doubles over and you can hear laughter from their direction too.

“I am hungry though, can someone feed me? I’m kind of in a situation right now, you know?”

You grin as more laughter sounds, looking around with expectation in your eyes.

[women-of-malevolent]

META: Unnamed Widow And Her Art

The Widow

Here's what we know about this unnamed woman:

she married a man who was killed by a mob and buried in a devil's graveyard to be forgotten

she built a home from the ground up beside her husband's grave

she had a relationship with a bad man named Antoine, and Antoine manipulated her into working with/for Shub's return

she was an artist and, through several filters, we get to see some of her art as it progresses over decades

I'd like to focus on the art. What does her art tell us, narratively?

* (note: I deleted some of the simple "What?" "Tell me more" dialogue so that this screenshot would fit onto one page)

She drew herself from multiple angles. Her painted self-portrait upstairs, and this sketch of herself here. There were some more self-portrait sketches, too.

She drew some scenery.

She drew a man. He wears clothes like the lighthouse keeper. This man is older than that man. This man is dignified and regal. He looks like a scholar. Later, the widow drew him in a "romanticized pose" that seems to make John a little bashful. The widow was clearly in a relationship with this man. Arthur notes that she must have needed comfort, after all. John says he sees this story in the images: the widow drew this man timidly at first, outdoors, from a distance; then slightly more intimate; then a portrait of his face, where his eyes look cold, and she wrote Antoine beneath this last sketch.

As she continued to draw him, she also began drawing more pictures of the underground landscapes. Her pictures became less fine and more bizarre.

Eventually, her drawings looked like impressions (the horror), and finally descend to scribbles.

Let's start with the scenery sketches. What were in them? John glosses over them so quickly.

This island was her new home. She must have had complicated feelings about it. It's the place she went to be with her husband, who was murdered by mob justice and sent to be forgotten in the devil's graveyard. She chose to be there to stay with him, and she made art of her surroundings.

What did her scenery art communicate about her feelings about the island?

Did she see animals in the scenery? What did the sky look like? What did her world look like?

What emotion did the scenes evoke? Peace in solitude, or maybe fear, regret, anger? How might she have felt about the places she drew?

How were the sketches made? Where did she sit? Did she draw them from memory?

Did she have any sketches of the place she lived before?

We can ask similar questions about the self-portraits. In Part 8, John brushes over the multiple self-portrait sketches. In Part 7, he mentions that she has several paintings framed in the above-ground portion of the house.

John and Arthur, in Part 7, have these takeaways about her art:

Some of the paintings are unsettling.

Her self-portrait is of her when she was young, but it has been warped by moisture over time such that her eyes look hollowed and sagging, and her face skin sags in loose strands. Again described as unsettling.

These paintings are in the above-ground portion of the home, a place she may have invited guests (maybe including Sarah). These pieces were displayed with the understanding that they'd be seen by anyone she invited inside. So, what else did she display, besides a self-portrait that might depict what aging felt like for her? Abstract shapes and colors? Anonymous faces on beaches? Landscapes? Domestic objects like pots and pans, table still-lifes? What else was on the walls? How did her private self-portraits differ from the painting in the hall? Why did she paint the one she painted, and only sketch the rest?

TLDR: Who was this artist? What artistic choices did she make about depicting herself and the world around her? What did she see in her art? What do John and Arthur see?

P.S. Maybe the widow and Sarah drew each other and those sketches are floating around somewhere