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zepskies · 1 month ago

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Lost on You - Part 10

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: And we’re back! In today’s episode, we have a very special guest. 😉

Also, just so you guys know, my podcast interview with the Idling in the Impala podcast is now live! For all the timestamps of key moments, fic recs, and SPN writer shoutouts, see this post (you'll find the link to the video there too).

Song Inspo: “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

Word Count: 6.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, angst, drug use, PTSD, violence, and another big reveal…

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Part 10: I Need a Hero

Revenge could wait for one more day.

It all can wait, Ben thought. Despite how vehement he was yesterday, today, he was reminded of how good it felt to sleep in a warm bed with a beautiful woman.

He laid there behind you, on his side. He’d woken up to the sound of music somewhere downstairs, maybe in the dining room.

What time is it? It was hard to remember to keep track of that now, even with the digital clock on the nightstand. It was only midnight, but to his body, it felt like morning.

You were dead asleep. Occasionally you let out soft hums, and other semi-arousing sounds. His lips tugged upward.

Still moans in her sleep.

He drew down the comforter and sheets slowly from your back. He was greeted by smooth skin, except where some marks had been made permanent. His fingers traced carefully over a rough, scarred patch of skin above your hip, as if you had been tased there repeatedly.

His jaw clenched. He could still remember the sounds he used to hear—your screams through the walls of the compound. He remembered when you eventually stopped begging for it all to stop.

“You’re saying this is my fucking fault?!” he said. “Yes! It is your fault. Because you’re too much of a mean, callous, arrogant, entitled, selfish, fucking asshole to see that everybody hates you!” you spat.

For so long after that day, he hated you. He told himself that he didn’t give a shit about whatever was happening to you, because you clearly didn’t give a shit about him.

But the long months wore on to longer years, alone in the dark. Too often, your words would rattle through his head, reach through his chest with ragged claws. No matter how much he fought it, all he had time to do when he was alone, was think.

He vacillated between stubborn, angry indignation, and rethinking every interaction he had with you, with Countess, the rest of the team, and beyond. Slowly, he allowed himself to retrace his steps. If only in his mind, he began to regret certain things…at least where it came to you.

Ignoring you was both harder and easier, since he couldn’t see you.

That all changed a few days ago.

Eisenstein returned to his cell, but this time he wasn’t alone. Two guards held you bound and gagged. You were just as shocked to see him as he was you.

It felt like he was suspended in time.

He saw the signs of aging in your face, but it didn’t matter. Even now, you were beautiful.

The spell of it broke when they threw you down onto the metal table usually reserved for him. He saw now that they had you in a straitjacket to keep your hands covered. The anger built inside him, almost incandescent in his veins.

“What the fuck is this?”

The doctor held a glass syringe in his gloved hand. He drew closer to you with slow, measured steps.

A realization soon dawned on Ben, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it. He saw your terror, the way you wordlessly pleaded with him, asking for help with your eyes.

Part of him still hated you, but he couldn’t take it. He wouldn’t allow this sick bastard to hurt you again. Not right the fuck in front of him.

You were still his.

His hand traveled down your bare shoulder, over the gentle slope of your side, and down the curve of your hip under the covers. You shifted and hummed, edging toward wakefulness. Ben settled in from behind, protectively embracing his body around yours in a perfect fit. He began kissing along your neck, slowly.

“Hmmm I’m sleeping,” you said, keeping your eyes closed. He smirked. His lips became more insistent, along with his hand spanning your thigh.

“Wake up, then,” he said. He teased the shell of your ear with his tongue, dragged your earlobe between his teeth. You shivered.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you retorted, smiling.

Ben huffed. “Yeah, keep being a fucking brat. That’ll get me to stop.”

His beard rasped against your skin as his lips found a path down the column of your throat. Acquiescing to open your eyes, you sighed, tilting your head back to give him more room. Meanwhile, his cock pressed insistently against your ass.

You smirked and shifted your hips, grinding back against him. “Maybe I like working you up.”

“Oh yeah?” He moved your thigh over his to spread your legs for him. There the warm, blunt tip of his cock pressed at your entrance, nudging you open with shallow thrusts. You moaned in response, reaching back to slip a hand in his hair.

You were a wanton little thing, he thought, even as he reached around to bury his fingers in your pussy. Already finding wetness between your folds, he gathered some of it and rolled your clit smoothly between his fingers. You gasped his name, your hips bearing down against him.

He took the opportunity to sheathe himself all the way inside you, until his hips were snug against your ass. You made a sound of pleasure that had his balls clenching on reflex. Your voice was a curse, even without your powers.

For once, he fucked into you slowly, with long, unhurried strokes that still managed to rock the bed. Ben was surprised the frame and springs hadn’t given up yet.

“You’re fucking mine, you hear me?” he said, close to your ear. He punctuated his words with deeper thrusts. “Say you understand.”

“Yes,” you agreed on a gasp.

“Yes, what?” He laid more tantalizing kisses along your neck and jawline. “Tell me.”

“I’m yours,” you said, in a coarse whisper. Ben claimed your lips in a kiss, before he kept moving inside you in languid strokes.

You were a moaning mess, your eyes squeezed shut. You grabbed at your breasts and kneaded them yourself, rolling and pinching your nipples. He strummed more insistently on your clit, until he felt your inner walls finally start to throb around him.

Your orgasm hit you in a slow, long wave as you pressed your face into your pillow. And you clenched so impossibly tight on his cock, it triggered his release as well. His arm curled around your middle and pressed you tight against him as he uttered a sharp grunt. He finished hot inside you, panting heavily into your neck afterward.

“Well, good morning,” you quipped, despite trying to catch your breath as well.

Ben’s hazy reverie broke into a chuckle. He dropped a lingering kiss onto your shoulder.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he corrected.

You shrugged. “Whatever.”

When he pulled out of you, you shivered a little. He rolled onto his back, and regardless of the mess in the sheets, you turned over to rest your elbow on his pillow, leaning over him.

“I should probably tell you something,” you said.

He eyed you in suspicion. “What now?”

You smiled and laid a hand on his chest, dragging your nails through the fuzz there.

“My family’s from Brooklyn, not a small town in Indiana,” you confessed. "Made it up to make me seem more...down to earth. Doe-eyed and likeable."

Ben’s brows shot up. He took a moment to process that information, then he shook his head.

“Fucking figures.” His arm lowered to curl around your lower back, caging you against him.

“I grew up in a brownstone that we had to share with two other families,” you said.

“So you were broke.”

“Yep. When I was born, my family spent all their savings to contract with Vought, to give me Compound V,” you explained. “Their plan was something like, if I became a famous superhero one day, I’d bring us out of our shitty life.”

Ben sighed, shaking his head. “So they pimped you out to Vought.”

“Essentially,” you said. You paused. He could see it was difficult for you, but you talked more about your life—the expectations from your parents, the training, the grueling schedules and the robbing of your childhood.

“When my mom died, I…I realized just how much they took from me,” you said, gazing up at him. “Isn’t that horrible?”

Again, Ben shook his head. His hand had been caressing up and down your back, but it stopped now. Part of him was still reluctant, but he told you about the biggest lie of his life. That he hadn’t grown up poor or struggling. That his father practically owned half of Pennsylvania, and Ben had been a spoiled rich kid. He’d also gotten kicked out of boarding school after starting a fight.

“My father said I wasn’t worthy of his name,” he said, with a wry turn of his lips. “So I went out, talked to some of his golf buddies in the War department, and got myself into the Vought program. I became Soldier Boy.”

You listened with rapt attention. Not interrupting him, just giving him the time he needed to find his words.

“When I came home after the war, my mother was just as proud as she’d ever been,” he recounted. But he didn’t smile. “My father took a good look at me, maybe for the first time in my life. And you know what he said?”

You gave him a questioning look, silently prodding.

“He said I took a short cut. ‘A real man wouldn’t have cheated,’” he said.

When he eventually met your gaze, you at least didn’t look pitying. Just understanding.

“I guess we both have daddy issues, huh?” you said.

Ben shook his head. Then he eyed you. “You don’t look that surprised by all this.”

You smiled, a little sheepish. You stroked your thumb across his chin.

“I can sense when a man is lying to me, remember?” you said pointedly. “I clocked you a long time ago, pal. Mostly any time you told some fake war story... You didn't fight in the war, did you?”

He frowned in offence, even though you both knew he couldn’t deny it.

"I was there," he said.

You gave him a knowing look. "Ben."

"I fucking would've, all right, but by the time I got there it was pretty much..." He waved a dismissive hand. His brows were crunched along with his worsening frown. You felt his embarrassment, and as a result, his agitation. You were glad to finally get the truth in his own words, but you didn't want to work him up in that way either.

You tried softening him with a kiss to his cheek. You rubbed a soothing hand over his arm.

“So what do you want to do when we get our lives back?” you asked, purposefully changing the subject. “After the whole payback thing.”

Ben sat up with you against the headboard. His upset slowly faded away with your ministrations, your gentle touch, and his expression fell into contemplation.

“I always thought I had time, but uh…I thought I’d eventually settle down. Have a couple of rugrats of my own. Raise a family,” he said. “Thought I could do it better than my old man.”

You tilted your head at him with a certain measure of surprise. Out of everything he might’ve said, that one didn’t occur to you. Although, with his upbringing, you supposed it made sense. You smiled.

“You might have a few of those out there somewhere,” you said.

He chuckled. “I've always thought so.”

He looked at you in a way he hadn’t before, a bit gentler, with something else you couldn’t name. Your face warmed as something fluttered in your lower belly.

“So tell me then. What do you want?” he asked.

Once you worked through that bit of nerves, you thought about his question. It took you longer than you thought it would to come up with an answer, but when you did, it was the most honest thing you could think of.

“I want to be happy.”

He paused, not expecting that answer. Then he nodded, with a short hum.

You sighed. “Okay, if you really want to go after Vought, I think I have an idea of where we should start.”

I can’t believe it. This thing still fits me pretty well, you thought. You twisted in the mirror to examine yourself in your old black and violet supe suit, though you didn't bother with the mask.

Meanwhile, Ben was already with your generous host, sat with widespread legs on the couch while he smoked a large blunt. His smoke coiled out lazily.

“You gotta believe me, I didn’t know what they were planning,” said Arthur Cohen. AKA: The Legend. He had been forced into a chair, though Ben hadn’t bothered tying him up. The man knew better than to make a false move. He was a decade older, and lucky for him, even wiser.

His penthouse apartment in New York looked more or less the same. Hit records and old successful movie posters adorned the walls, like a true has-been.

“Yeah, you said that fifty fucking times already,” Ben snarked. “What you haven’t said, is why.”

“To be honest, I never asked,” Arthur said. His expression soured. “Stillwell and Stan Edgar shivved me out of that decision, those uppity fucks. Then they got me fired on some technicality.”

“Allegations of embezzlement, or so I heard,” you said, reentering the room.

Arthur raised a finger. “Not true. That money was well earned backpay.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You know I know you’re lying, right?” You approached the men and crossed your arms. “What’s the lay of the land now?”

“Well, Stillwell’s the new me. Stan’s the new CEO. They disbanded Payback after you disappeared. The others are either working new gigs or are in early retirement. But I heard Vought’s working up to creating a new team.”

You nodded and shared a glance with Ben. He looked a little too chilled out right now. Apparently, Arthur had the good stuff.

“Before we jump into the frying pan with this, I want to go see my family,” you said. “Would you…want to go with me?”

Ben blew out more smoke, gesturing at Arthur. “I’ll keep this one company until he finds our old team. Make sure he doesn’t fuck off to Rio.”

You felt the sting of disappointment, but you sighed and agreed.

“Just…wait for me to get back before you go anywhere,” you said. You saw Ben prickle a little at being “told” what to do. You lowered down to his lips.

“Please?” you said, plying him with a kiss, and a gentle squeeze of his hand. “I’ll be back soon.”

He tightened his hand on yours. His gaze drew over you, briefly with more clarity through his high.

“Fine,” he said. “Be careful.”

You nodded with a smile, giving him one more kiss goodbye.

Your father was the longer drive north than your brother’s house in Queens, so you headed up to find the former first after borrowing a car from Arthur. According to him, your father had moved upstate to Albany after your “death.”

Now, you understood why.

He lived in a two-story house on a whole acre of land, complete with three cars, a pool, and oh yeah, his new girlfriend. She looked good hanging off his arm in Atlantic City, as you saw from a picture on the wall—after you broke into the house, that is. To be fair, they’d left the sliding glass door open in the backyard.

Your dad was dressed like he just got home from the golf course, walking over from the kitchen to the living room. He dropped his glass of wine in shock when he saw you standing there, admiring the only framed picture of you, your mother, and Chris on one of the display shelves. Glass shattered across the hardwood floor.

“Hey, Dad,” you said. You turned to him, not bothering to hide your disdain.

He gaped for a few seconds as he tried and failed to make his mouth work. He pointed at you with a shaking hand, your name finally falling from his lips.

“It’s a beautiful place,” you said. You gestured widely at your surroundings. “It’s nice to see that you finally got what you wanted.”

He tried to go to you, to embrace you, but you held out a hand. Your lips trembled as you fought the onslaught of your emotions. If he touched you, you might not have been able to control your actions.

“Did you give any of the settlement money to Chris and his family? Or did my death just make you rich,” you asked.

Your father’s eyes closed. He released a heavy sigh before he was able to meet your gaze again.

“He wouldn’t take any of it,” he admitted.

Your tears stung in your eyes as you smiled a little. “Sounds like him.”

“Where have you been?” he asked. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

Again, he tried to get closer to you, and again, you held him off.

“The only thing I need from you is to keep doing what you’re doing,” you said. “Keep living your life like you no longer have a daughter.”

With that, you stalked out of the house and shot out the door, back to your car, no matter how much he called out after you. You got into the driver’s seat and beat the wheel once, twice, venting your frustrations. But you forced yourself to take in deep breaths to calm yourself. You wiped the tears from your eyes.

He wasn’t worth it.

You wondered if you should go see Chris though. Would it be safe for him and his family? Was Vought watching them as a contingency, if you ever escaped?

You weren’t sure. You rucked through your purse lying in the passenger seat for the weird “cell” phone Arthur had lent you. You wanted to check in with Ben first, before you went anywhere else.

You started to dial, but a gloved hand shot out and injected a needle into your neck. You startled at the sharpness and the feeling of a chemicals rushing through your body. Your eyes darted to the rearview mirror.

All you saw was a blurry, black mask.

Meanwhile, Ben was fucking plastered.

He had been ever since you left yesterday morning. In his unrest, he’d moved on to a handful of whatever opiates Arthur kept in his medicine cabinet.

Christ I’m fucking bored.

He glanced down at the phone in his lap. The one Arthur gave him, along with a list of numbers that had been taped to the fridge. The first number on the list was the cell phone you were carrying. Ben read the rest of them.

Pizza place. Chinese. Swedish massage—hmm, there’s an idea. Handy man. BEST escort service…

Ben rose a brow. An inebriated smile curved his lips.

“What makes it the best escort service?” he asked, and loudly. Enough that Arthur came over from where he’d been making calls in his office, trying to find the rest of his former teammates’ whereabouts.

Arthur raised a brow at him. “You sure that’s a good idea right now?”

Ben shot him a terse warning look. The other man raised his hands.

“Eh, I’m three times divorced. What do I know?” he said, but he sighed and gave Ben a long look. “It just seems to me that you and Sirena got a good thing goin’, that’s all.”

The thought of you managed to cut through the haze of drugs clouding Ben’s mind. He frowned.

“That’s how Missus #1 caught me, with one of my ex-assistants in the jacuzzi,” Arthur said, with a mild grimace on his face. “She got that house in the divorce. Well, that and the kids.”

Ben looked over at him blankly.

Heaving a sigh, Arthur went back to his office.

Ben glanced down at the list of numbers in his hand, and the cell phone in the other. What the fuck was taking you so long then?

He dialed the first number on the list—your number. It rang several times, but you never answered. He called you again, waited a few minutes, then called you a third time. You weren’t answering.

His frown worsened, along with a suspicious prickling up his spine. Fuck...

He'd felt it the moment he let go of your hand, but he'd been too out of his mind to actually listen to his instincts; the same ones that warned him not to let you out of his sight. And more importantly, not to let you go.

He got up from the couch and stormed into Arthur’s office, shoving the door open. Arthur jumped in his seat.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“She’s not picking up the fucking phone,” Ben said. He paused. “Something’s wrong.”

Arthur didn’t ask him the predictable question: how do you know? He just took in the look on the supe’s face and knew it wouldn’t be wise arguing. He tried calling your father's home, but all the man would say was, "She left. She's gone."

Arthur hung up with the man, and for a long moment, he sat pensively while Ben angrily paced the small office, like a tiger confined in its enclosure.

“It’s possible that Vought knows you guys made it back,” Arthur said. At the dark look on Ben’s face, the other man rubbed his chin with a sigh. “Okay. I’ll try to track her down for ya. In the meantime, I’ve got Countess’s address. Maybe she'll even have an idea of where to look for Sirena.”

He slid a piece of paper toward Ben across his desk. He grabbed it, pointing a threatening finger at Arthur.

“Find her.”

You woke with a groan. You knew a drugging when you felt one, and this was it. Someone had given you a powerful sedative.

You were alone in a white padded cell, lying on a cot. It was all too familiar.

Except for the tall figure in black standing in the middle of the room, watching you. You gasped with a jolt, pressing your back against the wall after you sat up. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Irving?”

Black Noir stepped closer until he was sitting beside you on the cot. Tentatively, he raised a hand up to touch your cheek with gentle, gloved fingers.

Your shock gave way to anger. You slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?!” you said sharply.

Noir backed off at once, as if you’d struck him a real blow. He got up, went over and grabbed a dry erase board that had been lying against the far wall, along with a marker off the floor. He wrote something down on it, then he showed you.

You shouldn’t have come back to NY.

You frowned, both at what he “said,” and in confusion. Why wouldn’t he just talk to you?

“What did you expect?” you asked incredulously. “For me and Ben just to disappear forever? To let you keep ruining our lives?”

Noir paused at that. He tilted his head with a long look at you. With your abilities, you were able to sense that he was disheartened, and even angry. He erased the board with his arm and wrote something else.

Do you love him?

You blinked at the question.

“Who?” you asked, even though you knew.

Soldier Boy

Emotion rose high in your throat, but you worked past it with a swallow, and a deep breath.

“That’s none of your business,” you said.

Noir just stared at you, his head tilting forward. The longer he stood there, watching you, waiting for an answer, the longer you prickled with unease.

He erased the board and wrote the same question again. He held it out for you to see, shaking it once in emphasis.

Do you love him?

You hesitated, but you didn’t want to lie anymore, even to yourself.

“Yes, I do,” you said. “I know what he’s done, believe me, but he isn’t a monster.”

Noir’s head twitched. You felt his anger intensify. He dropped the board onto the floor, startling you, but all he did next was slowly raise his hands to take off his helmet. He showed you what was left of his mottled, disfigured face—the burnt skin and the divot in his skull that had never fully healed.

Your mouth parted in shock as tears sprung in your eyes. You tried to avert them, but Noir stepped forward and grabbed your jaw, turning your face up to his and forcing you to look. Your lips trembled, but you met his gaze unflinchingly.

When he seemed to be satisfied, he released you and stepped back. He placed his helmet back on.

“I understand why you hate him,” you said at last. “But you made your choice when you let them take me too. You…you changed everything for me.”

You were satisfied to feel a lance of Noir’s guilt. You had scars too, and most of them weren’t physical.

“I’m not going to apologize for my choices now,” you said, with a firm glare. “So unless you’re going to kill me, you can fuck off, before I scramble what’s left of your head.”

Your eyes glowed with your power. You opened your mouth to begin your siren’s song, but Noir turned on his heel and exited the door, leaving you alone in the cell.

A fucking chimp sanctuary. Really? Ben thought as he broke into the boundary of the reserve. About a quarter mile into the tall grass, he found a large, if rundown country style house in the middle of the woods.

“Yes, Big Daddy. I’m almost ready for you. Just let me heat these up…”

Ben raised a brow, but he gritted his teeth and kicked through the front door. There she was, Crimson Countess in all her glory, holding a set of anal beads.

She gasped at the sight of him, but she ignored the “client” on speaker on her landline phone, and dropped the beads so she could aim a fiery blast at the intruder.

Ben jumped out of the way and tossed his shield. It hit her square in the chest and sent her flying back into the wall, destroying a bookshelf and the dining table. He walked over to it with slow, heavy steps.

She raised her head with a groan, but then, her eyes watered with disbelief…and fear, when she looked up at him.

“Ben?” she said. “My God…it’s really you, isn’t it? You... you look the same.”

“You don't,” he remarked. He lowered down to grab her by the collar of her suit and raise her out of the rubble.

“How much did the Russians pay you, Donna?” he asked calmly.

She struggled to escape, her nails scraping at his gloved hand. He tightened his hold.

“They didn’t,” she admitted. Tears leaked from her eyes under her mask.

“They didn’t pay you anything?” he said through clenched teeth. “Then why?”

You know why, came sneaking voice in his mind. He tried to pay it no heed, but Donna sneered at him.

“Because,” she spat. “I fucking hated you. We all did.”

Ben’s lips pulled at a humorless smirk. His chest prickled with heat. “I should’ve known you were a bunch of sniveling, backstabbing, fucking cowards.”

“Kill me then,” she taunted. “Is that gonna make you feel better? Going to make you feel less empty inside?”

Ben’s chest began to get that nuclear glow, but he managed to fight it down, back into embers.

“Not yet,” he said. He drew her in closer. She held onto his wrist, her feet scrambling over the debris on the floor.

“I need to find someone,” he said. “And you’re going to help me.”

Ben and Donna sat across from each other on her living room couch, with the landline sat between them. The phone was on speaker as it rang. The longer it took, the more annoyed he became.

“This better work,” he said. She gave him a flat look.

Finally, a woman answered the phone.

“Good afternoon. Stan Edgar’s office. How may I assist you?”

“Hi Gloria, it’s me, Donna,” she said. “I need to speak with Stan as soon as possible, please.”

“Ooh, I’m afraid he’s in a meeting.”

“Trust me, he’s going to want to take this call.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid his next availability isn’t until next week. And next month if you want an in-person meeting.”

“Just tell him to call me back asap!” She said, hanging up the phone in a huff. Ben gave her an unimpressed look.

“That was your big fucking plan?” he said.

She huffed. “You think breaking into Vought is going to be easy? Let alone finding that weasel. He’s got the best security money can buy, and by the way, finding where they’re keeping your little girlfriend isn’t going to be any easier. They could’ve stashed her literally anywhere by now.”

You think I don’t fucking know that? Ben got up from the couch with an angry breath. He turned away from her and rubbed at his beard in contemplation. He shouldn’t have let you go anywhere alone.

I should’ve been there. The thought gripped him, deep in his gut. Guilt was an unfamiliar, uncomfortable feeling.

“We’re going to need help,” Donna said.

His bad mood took a turn for the worst. He glanced back at her.

“What, the rest of the fucking Scooby gang?” he snarked.

“Or you can try going in alone, guns blazing,” she shrugged. Her sharpened gaze met his. “How fast do you think they’ll kill her, just to spite you?”

Ben’s jaw clenched. Donna leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms.

“Or worse. They’ll put you back in a box and ship you back to the Russians,” she said. Her snide smile had him clenching his teeth. “Either way, you’ll never see her again.”

With everything in his being, Ben wanted to fry this bitch to Kingdom Come.

“Get up,” he ordered. “Pack a bag. We’re leaving.”

Donna’s expression fell. “What?"

"You heard me!" he barked, grabbing her arm to pull Donna to her feet. "Get the fuck up."

She struggled against his grip. "Where’re we going?”

“To find those fucking Twins.”

They took her car, a tiny sedan. Evidently, the end of Payback hadn’t been good for Donna’s career. Arthur had told him that, irony of ironies, she now sang at a Soldier Boy tribute act at Voughtland to pay her bills. And as he’d seen earlier, she needed to pad her income in other ways.

She was driving them up to Vermont. It was going to take days, and Ben was already sick of her.

It was a small blessing when they stopped at a gas station in the nighttime. She gave him her credit card to buy some snacks for the road while she filled up the tank. (He took the keys with him as insurance that she wouldn't bolt with the car.)

He returned with a far bigger bag than she expected. She forgot what a human garbage disposal he could be. He tossed the card back at her.

“Your card’s maxed out, by the way,” he said.

She glared at him, but she endeavored to let it go with a sigh, raising a hand to her temple. How the fuck had this become her life?

To minimize being overheard, she stepped closer to him while the gas pump kept going on her car.

“Gunpowder is the easiest one to find next. Mindstorm’s probably hiding in a hole in the middle of the woods some-goddamn-where,” she said, keeping her voice down. She gave her unwanted companion a sly look. “Though I’m thinking you want Mindstorm to stay wherever he retired.”

It brought up an unsavory memory.

After the team turned on him, Mindstorm had been the one to lock his gaze on Ben. For a moment, his feet had been rooted to the ground while Mindstorm tried to shove him deep into his mind. It had given someone the opening to slip a mask of Novichok over his face. He suspected it had been Countess.

Now, Ben turned to her with a glare at her audacity.

“You know, for a massive cunt, you’ve got some brass balls,” he said dangerously. “How the fuck didn’t I see what a vindictive little snake you were from the beginning?”

Donna scoffed in derision.

“I’m vindictive? Says the cheating, lying, bastard,” she snapped.

“Oh, shut your hole. You knew what I was doing, and you didn’t give a shit,” he said with a glare. He leveled a finger at her. “You used me to get exactly what you fucking wanted. Fame, money, and all the perks that come with it.”

Her lips pursed, like she didn’t want to admit it. But if they were airing out dirty laundry, then she wasn’t pulling any more punches.

“Well, I wasn’t the only one. Was I?” she said. “Anyone who ever smiled at you, fawned over you, or sucked your dick was trying to get something from you. Or, they were scared of you. Because you’re a bully. A fucking monster. And sooner or later, Sirena won’t be able to stomach you anymore.”

The thin leash on his temper finally snapped. He reacted, reaching out to grab her by the throat. He was truly thinking about breaking her neck.

Donna choked for air and gripped his wrist. “Without me, you’ll have no one. Good…fucking…luck finding her.”

Ben was furious, but he battled it down, expelling a breath of frustration.

He released her. She coughed and gasped and stumbled a few feet away from him, glaring at him all the while through her fear.

When she was eventually able to stand again, she and Ben shared a look of mutual loathing, but also, of understanding.

It was an uneasy truce. For now.

You were quickly unraveling alone in the dark.

You felt the phantom cold of your old cell. No matter how you rubbed your arms through the leather of your supe suit, you couldn’t get warm. You released a shaky breath and swiped at your tears.

You missed Ben. He had to know by now that you were in trouble, but you didn’t know if he’d know how to find you. Or worse, if they found him first.

You steeled yourself and tried to calm your panic. You counted to thirty. Your eyes flit to every small detail of your cell that you could name: the small crack in the gray linoleum tile, the line of ants slowly creeping along the corner, the brittle wool blanket you were sitting on, laid over your cot.

When your breathing was steady, you tried to think. You didn’t know where you were, of course, but you could try to sense how big the building was.

You did something you rarely did. You cast your awareness outward as far as you could reach.

There were very few male energies, and you only picked up on a few scattered thoughts.

Until you found one. It felt…strong, but young. A kid?

Jesus Christ, what’re they doing in this place? you thought.

What…who’s there?

You heard the voice in your mind, small and afraid and lonely. Before you could answer him, the door of your cell opened to a few familiar faces.

There was an older man in a lab coat that you recognized, but you couldn’t place his name until you read his monogram. Vogelbaum. Followed by Stan Edgar and Black Noir, who came to stand behind you. You knew that if you made any wrong moves, Noir would kill you this time.

Quickly you read their energies as you observed them.

Vogelbaum gave off mild interest in you, but it felt clinical. Stan felt resigned and calculating as he took you in.

“For what it’s worth, I do wish it hadn’t come to this, Sirena,” Stan said. “We didn’t intend for you to get caught up our deal with Russia.”

He may have been telling the truth, but that didn’t mean you cared.

“You’re in the most secure lab we have,” he said, gesturing to your wall-to-wall cell without windows. “No one knows you’re here, and no one will find you.”

You smiled dryly. “So what do you want from me?”

“I want to know how you and Soldier Boy escaped the facility in Russia,” he said, gathering his hands behind his back.

What he really meant was, How did you escape? So we can make the next cell even more effective.

You leaned forward and spat at his shoes.

Black Noir grabbed you by the back of your neck and yanked you back. Your jaw clenched in anger, but you didn’t struggle. Even if you opened your mouth to sing, Noir would snap your neck before your powers had time to affect him.

Stan remained unaffected by your outburst, though he glanced down at his shoes.

“These are handmade Italian leather,” he remarked.

“Even if you find Ben, you’ll never be able to kill him,” you said tersely.

“We don’t need to kill him. Nor will we need to find him,” Stan said. “He’s already looking for you.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart swelled with both hope and dread, though you tried to hide it.

“We have a plan to neutralize him. Several, in fact,” he added, and spread his hands wide. “Until then…welcome home.”

Smug bastard. You glared back at him.

He left, along with Vogelbaum. Black Noir glanced back at you once, then he was gone.

The lights in your cell turned off, leaving you in darkness. You heaved a breath and couldn’t help the tears that found hot paths down your cheeks. You curled your knees up on the cot and held them to your chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if you could pretend the room wasn’t pitch black. You focused your breathing, in and out, until your heartbeat began to slow down from its panic.

The kid, you remembered.

You licked your dry lips and tried casting your awareness out again. When you found the familiar energy from before, you reached out to him.

Hey, are you there? you prodded.

Who the hell are you?

It’s okay. Don’t be scared, you said, and you gave him your name. Are you locked up here?

Y-Yeah.

I’m sorry to hear that. I am too.

How can you be talking to me…in my head?

Well, it’s complicated, you admitted. It’s a new power I’m trying out, thanks to my time as a human test subject.

Something told you this kid knew the feeling.

What’s your name? you asked.

Um…John. I’m John.

AN: 🤭 Oh, yeah, we're going there.

How did you like getting Ben's perspective on things? And his "forced" team up with Countess to find the rest of the cast of Payback. 😬 What could possibly go wrong?

Next Time:

Ben hated to admit it (so he wouldn’t), but she had a point. It took him a minute to wrangle in his ire, taking deep breaths to try and calm the power inside him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

This time, it actually did.

His hand fell back to his side, letting the younger man breathe freely.

“Let’s go.” Ben turned on his heel and headed out.

“Where, uh…where’re we going?” Charlie asked, rubbing his sore neck.

“Looks like we’re getting the team back together,” Ben said grimly.

He tilted his head.

“Well. What’s left of it.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 11

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itstheghostofmypast · 9 months ago

Text

15.07

Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: At this point, he didn't know who she loved more, him or Byeol, either way, he was happy. What else could Choi San ask for other than his two favourite girls in the world getting along?

Genre: PURE FLUFF

Warnings: NONE

Word Count: 2.1K

Est. Read Time: 10 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

A/N: No- see @edenesth 💗 did this to me. This timestamp is for my saviour, the one and only @edenesth 💗 , like we should totally blame San for posting such domestic core pics- no wonder we get all delulu- PS THIS COLLAB HAS ME DYING

@edenesth version: [12.58]PM

"San?" she called out, walking down the hallway as she paused in front of the wall-length mirror, fixing her hair once more and checking out her outfit, simple, crisp and a dash of purple. Very different from her usual office attire, very colourful too- after all the first time he had seen her she was in a plain suit, a white dress shirt and slacks, running around collecting printouts for the upcoming spring magazine. That also being the first time he had realised how much he loved the word 'simple'. Okay, fine, perhaps she was dressed on the softer side, but was it so bad to play cute for once? Especially, if she was doing so to please her man. Call it her way of simping.

Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if he was going to show up, after their extensive tour, when he had mentioned the upcoming off days he was to get, she had suggested going to his home town to relax, leaving the city life for a while and although it pained her to know that she would be too busy with her own work at the office, also known as the company he too worked in, she wanted him to rest and relax away from the hustle bustle of his idol life, what she did not expect that after a week of his departure to Namhae, the very next weekend her fluff of a man would be ringing her doorbell in the late hours of the weekend.

"Byeol wanted to see you and so did I, I spent a week there and I'll spend a week here."

Was all he the dimpled man had made his way inside to the living room, opening the carrier to let Byeol out, the living room already a place of her liking. She had been here with San a couple of times; she had also been a very important part of their relationship. Especially on their third date where he had delicately brought up the topic, "Are you allergic to cats?"

"No, why?"

"Do you like cats?"

"Yeah, why?"

He never really answered her question that night, only smiled at her, leaning over the table to add more meat to her plate considering the late hours of the night, her hunger had distracted her from asking more questions, already too emotional at the thought of this angel of a man sacrificing his portion of protein for her - especially after grilling it so well. The only thing that did change was that the next morning she received around 400+ pictures of San's first love, Byeol.

The first time he had brought Byeol over, he was cautious and attentive, making sure both his girls were happy. He asked her cute questions all day- maybe she just found them cute because it was him, or perhaps it was because he was letting her in, into his domain, which is the little kitty roaming around the house.

"Can I put the litter here?"

"All your windows are locked right?"

"Do you mind if I keep the food bowl next to where we eat? She feels lonely otherwise."

"Can she sleep on your bed? I brought her cat mat just in case."

"Can we leave the bedroom door open a bit, so she can come and go without waking us up?"

He stopped when he realised, she wasn't even responding, panicking he looked up from the cat supplies. Maybe she felt like he was intruding or invading her privacy but was too afraid to tell him. Maybe bringing in Byeol was a big step he shouldn't have taken so quickly. What if she meant like she liked cats, at a normal level, like 'oh a cat.' Not like cuddling them or baby-talking to them. Turning around his eyes scanned the room to spot her holding onto Byeol, carrying her like a baby and cooing at her. It was only then he realised how loud his cat was purring loud enough for it to echo in the silent room.

"Hmmm? You say something, Sannie?" she looked up from Byeol to him, eyes as curious as a cat's, hand resting on the cat's tummy, letting Byeol grab her hand with her soft paws. His heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his ribcage, running to her and landing on her palm, beating in it with an intensity that would borderline scare her. Licking his chapped lips the feline-eyed man shook his head, a genuine dimpled smile forming, one that would send thousands flipping with joy- or in her case have her gushing over it in solitude.

Thus, giving birth to a ritual, often he would spend his free days at his own home, sometimes calling her over, and gratefully his family welcomed her with open arms. On other occasions, he’d drop by to her apartment, bringing their 'daughter' with him.

She remembers the time Byeol had gotten sick. Unfortunately, San was busy that evening, and his parents were out of town so Byeol was to stay with her. Not an issue, at least it wasn't until the third night when San checked his phone after hours of practice late at night. He had decided to stay at the dorm, travelling would be more tiring she understood, but as the man checked his phone his heart almost stopped.

"Byeol is sick, she's vomiting. "

"I'm taking her to the vet."

"She's shivering."

"Okay, my car isn't working!"

'"I ran here, dw, made it in time, they're checking her."

"They say she has a fever, some bug?"

"They want to keep her overnight, idk I mean I can't just leave her here. She looked scared."

"I'm not leaving, but she's sedated. They say she'll be fine."

"San plz reply soon."

"San I'm scared."

Choi San had never run faster in his life he was sure of it, because the moment he burst into the 24/7 pet clinic his lungs were burning worse than a forest fire, his eyes red and blurry, the world around him extremely out of focus as he stumbled to the reception, about to take the patient's name but someone called him instead.

"San!"

His head snapped in her direction, running to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace, trying to calm her down as she began to shiver in his embrace, her words coming out with choked sobs. Hand pressed against her head, he rubbed her back up and down with the other one, looking through the glass window at his cat, sprawled on the table with an IV tube attached.

"It's gonna be okay, it'll be okay."

It took almost an hour to calm her down, he had tried to convince her to go home, she had work the next day but she refused, instead blaming herself for Byeol's health. Though the doctor had assured him it was not because of her incompetency, but the cat food, the cat food Sanhad insisted on changing. Once she found that out, Choi San had to get an earful the remainder of the night, “How can you- I told you not to do that!”

“Babe I- “Don’t babe me! She doesn’t even like salmon! She prefers tuna.”

After the wonderful argument, that through the eyes of an elderly couple waiting for their dog looked like a cute domestic quarrel, came to an end. San remembered sitting next to her sulking as she gave him the silent treatment, though a few moments later her head had landed against his shoulder with a thump, followed by her snores. That night Choi San had realised two things, firstly that he was in love with her and secondly, she probably loved Byeol more than she loved him.

Hence, today they were supposed to go to a cute cafe she had been eying for a month. They had planned on taking Byeol out but since the cat had decided to stay up all night, running around the apartment she was tired today. San had just mocked her, claiming that Byeol knew it was Valentine's Day so she wanted her parents to spend the day together. However, he later countered himself with a, "Though each day is like Valentine's Day with you, love."

Clearing her throat, she dusted off the invisible dust, adjusting her cardigan before making her way to the living room once more, calling out to her significant other, "San! I'm ready to let's go." though his lack of response was confusing her, so she called out again, "Sannie where are you-" her word stopped as soon as she turned the corner, into her living room, spotting a giant starfish sprawled out on the wooden floor. Next to him was Byeol, staring down at him, San's hand pressed against his cat's back in a soothing manner, but she knew what he was doing, making sure his cat didn't move because Byeol was not only pretty but smart too, she knew what her dad was doing.

Sighing she walked closer to him, standing next to Byeol who looked up at her, blinking slowly, before turning back to stare at San. She stared down at him, arms crossed before slowly poking his side with her foot, watching him pretend and stretch, groaning as he cracked an eye open, "Oh~ you're finally done?"

"Mhmmm." Raising a questioning brow she nodded, "And?"

"Oh, I mean" Sitting up he stretched his legs, much similar to how Byeol would do so, "Byeol said her mommy was taking so long in the shower that we fell asleep, waiting for you…" his words trailed off when he turned to look at her, his breath hitching at the sight of the soft pastels, the pretty purple, purple really was her colour. Clearing his throat he quickly got up, standing to talk in front of her, merely a few inches away from her as he stretched his arms over his head before casually bringing them down, not so discreetly wrapping them around her and slamming her into him, smirking when she whined.

"The dress will wrinkle Sannie." she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose, "You can't look like a pretty pixie and not expect me to hold onto you like Captain Hook kidnapped Tinkerbell."

"What an analogy." she mumbled, letting him squeeze her into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations as he chuckled, "You look very pretty…I like your cardigan."

"Thanks, your mom gave it to me last birthday. " Her arms wrapped around his waist, letting him gently sway them from side to side.

“Who do you think chose it?” he smiled down at her, finally meeting her with a gentle kiss, one she savoured greatly, hands fisting his shirt as his palm pressed against her back before slowly trailing down, though their little moment came to halt sudden when a high-pitched squeak caught their ears. Pulling back, she looked down at Byeol, frowning before turning to look at San, “Why isn’t she wearing her leash?” “What do you mean?”

Tutting at her gorgeous idiot of a man, she pulled away completely before crouching to grab the cat and walking towards the door where they hung coats and her leash. “I said we’re going to the café.”

“I know,” he mumbled scratching his head, a bit confused as to what she meant, “I got a booking for it, no? Why are you – we can’t take her there and it's almost time for our reservation.”

“Aww~ don’t listen to daddy, Byeol” San watched her talk to his cat instead of him, watching her put on Byeol’s harness and leash, somewhat impressed because Byeol never let him do that this easily, though the next statement had him blushing mad. “He’s a bit slow, handsome, but slow, he forgot we’re going to a cat café, you’ll have fun there~ Won’t you baby~”

Letting out a hearty chuckle he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, of course she’d come up with this idea on her own. She had mentioned earlier how leaving Byeol home wasn’t fun especially when the cat was their ‘child’ and leaving their child unattended was cruel. He watched the cat jump off the table and onto the floor, meowing up at his lover who sent Byeol a flying kiss, San didn’t know what heaven was, but if anyone were to ask him to describe what it looked like, the view was right in front of him.

“Any kisses for me?” He asked walking up to his two girls, who were almost out the door, pausing when she winked at him, “depends big boy. Might need to send our baby back home for a while if that’s what you want.” And that had the man shivering with excitement running after her as the two made it to the elevator, already planning on asking someone or one of the guys to watch his little baby for the night, so he could have a night with his kitten.

“Don’t worry, I think that can be arranged, kitten.”

Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie

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xdjville · 4 months ago

Text

first kiss with jeno

pairing: jeno x gn!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers

cw: reader's hair is said to 'flow on the wind' so ig at least a longer short hair length is implied

author's note: this is a part of a draft i had (the same one this chenle timestamp came from) and since i haven't posted in a good while i figured why not post this 🤷‍♀️ i wrote it like months ago and it's barely proof read so keep that in mind

you hadn't known each other for long. having met through a mutual acquaintance and only going as far as exchanging polite greetings and an occasional small talk to kill time, your relationship only truly began when after one of the events organized by your friend, jeno asked you for your number, and soon enough you went on your first date together. after a semi-fancy dinner and a lovely dessert in a nearby café, you were walking hand in hand through the local park. with a relaxed, lighthearted conversation filled in with occasional moments of a comfortable silence, and the dim light of the park lamps creating a pleasant romantic atmosphere, it would be a terrible lie to say that the date wasn't going exceptionally. you never imagined having anything more between the two of you, let alone going out in a romantic sense, but now that you did jeno was giving you everything you could ask for - before you even knew it, you had a swarm of butterflies erupting in your stomach at the mere sight of his wide, closed-eyed smile. as you walked the evening breeze let you know of the late hour, your hair flowing on the chilly air, wondering if jeno was feeling cold too and if it perhaps was the time to part ways for the night, you turned your head to him. you opened your mouth, but no sound came out as you met his starry eyes, his gaze intense, full of wonder and emotions you couldn't quite recognize. when you stopped in your tracks he kept his attention still fully focused on you, not looking away even for a fraction of a second and seemingly deep in thought. a few moments of silence passed like that, standing just so close in an almost empty park, save for a group of teenagers occupying the playground, when jeno grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your face to his own. halting with mere millimeters left between your lips he seemed to wait for your move, quietly asking for permission as the sudden burst of confidence ran down. tugging on the collar of his silk shirt, you closed the remaining space, and you felt his shoulders relax when he exhaled through his nose. his hand moved from your neck to your cheek, the other one joining on the opposite side, your arms sneaking around his waist to bring you even closer together as you let yourself get lost in the in his soft lips, the smell of his perfume, and the warmth of his palms, the entirety of lee jeno.

"can i walk you home? i don't want tonight to end just yet."

#taglist ➼♡ @0-hoony @suzayaaa

©xdjville

#nct imagines #nct reactions #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #nct fluff #nct fic #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #nct dream fic #nct dream fluff #nct dream jeno #jeno #nct jeno #nct dream jeno x reader #jeno x reader

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notmuchtofind · 1 year ago

Text

public eye pt2 | d.s

tw: low appetite, possible miscarriage, cheating

pt 1 here

a/n: it’s finally out lol!! tysm for the interaction on the past fic🥹 i hope you enjoy! lmk your thoughts x

"drew if it's not what you want and it's what I eventually want, are we even right for each other? What are we doing? You don't care for me like you usto, you're not the same. you're a dick" you say trying not to shout

"I don't know what I want right now?" Drew states, not looking you in the eyes.

How's he being so calm? Why is he doing this? This is not like drew.

"fuck you." You stand up out of the chair and walk right out of the cafe doors, tears start streaming down your face and you try to hide your face with the palm of your hand...

*snap* followed by a flicker

*snap* *snap*

fuck.

you look around...

"Is that paparazzi?" you mumble to yourself

you walk faster to your car, quickly opening the door and throwing your bag on the backseat, you fumble to turn the engine on and see slight flickers through the rearview mirror...this is the last thing you need right now.

_________________________

After setting your keys aside on the kitchen table and kicking your shoes off, you immediately undressed out of the clothes you had picked out to see Drew in and chucked on your dressing. spending the rest of that day on the couch. Tears would brim in your eyes, often spilling over through the course of the day as you'd replay what had been said by drew in your mind. And there was no text from him. no apology, no checking up on you, no nothing...maybe this was really over? It seemed to all happen so quickly. How could you go from, what people knew as the 'IT' couple, to being, well...nothing.

Passed out on the couch, you are awoken by the pinging of notifications coming from your phone. In a dazed state your initial thought is that Drews trying to get hold of you. Your hand fumbles around the couch as you follow the sound trying to relocate the phone. You pick it up, eyes half wide, and check the time. 4:07am.

"fuck" you mumble too yourself, you've been on this couch for nearly 12 hours...

As your eyes wander down from the timestamp at the top of your phone screen, you lock your gaze onto the first notification.

Twitter : @drewobxlover03 Tagged you in a post.

'okay, pretty normal?' you think to yourself

but as your sleepy eyes drift down some more...

6,789 more.

You quickly adjust your position on the couch, now sitting up as your back leans against the arm of it... your gaze widens.

Too caught up in your own trail of thoughts and distress when you entered your home earlier, The flickers from the paparazzi camera didn't even cross your mind. You were used to it to say the least, but you'd forgotten the difference in what they may have captured earlier on...

Your finger glides over the notifications and swipes to open.

You're met with a picture grid.

A "slideshow" full of your swollen teary face. Drews hands flailing around at you through the cafe windows. your figure towering over drew as you got up out of your seat. You abruptly dash out of the cafe doors...

The number on your twitter activity heading just keeps rising... and rising.

A pit in your stomach starts to grow, but You can't help but click on more, its a bad idea...

Met by more photos of you from different angles, red streaks from tears that have trailed down your cheeks. Feelings of embarrassment overcome your being.

until the embarrassment turns into dismay.

Your palm meets your mouth, shocked by the images on your phone screen, you're breathed.

They're in a car...pictures of him, and her... touching her face?...They're laughing? they’re way too close for your liking.

your heart begins swelling with hurt, you feel a physical pain ache within your chest, thoughts that it may almost rupture.

You scan the comments, your thumb appears to be scrolling too fast for your eyes to catch up.

@user0844628495: OMFG HE DIDN'T TT!!???

@Chaseforeverxoxo: I never liked y/n anyways lol.

@obxstufffff: Who is she???

@starkeyandy/l/n20: no no no no!!! please, I don't believe in true love fr :((((((

@user984763097: I hate men.

You should've known from the moment Drew was being distant after he started shooting for the new film that there was something off, that he'd possibly found another girl. it just never seemed to cross your mind. Not your drew? Not after nearly 4 years and especially not after you guys were so public with your relationship.

Maybe it lingered in your subconscious...but your heart was too heavy to allow yourself to slip that possibility to the front of your mind. You feel like a fool.

The only person who knew you and drew just as equally was Madelyne. After phoning her up and apologising for how late it was, you explained the situation. she offered to come round and comfort you, and you allowed her to do just that, as you sobbed into her arms she was wiping your tears. She didn't say much, she just held you...the truth is there's not much she could say...at least not to you anyways. But she promised the next time she and Drew would come into contact it would not end well, and she was adamant that it would be the last time she would willingly be in the same room as him. Even though you met Madelyn through drew, you and her hit it off so quickly, it's like you found your platonic soulmate as well as your romantic one...or so you had thought.

~~~~~~~

Madelyn was passed out on the opposite side of the couch when you decided to get up and get some water, your appetite was certainly not present but you figured you should hydrate yourself, your tears had drained your body from water. You glance over to the kitchen as you make your way there. The time reads 8am on the digital clock within the microwave.

As you drag your feet around the kitchen, collecting a glass to fill with water, your ears prick up to the sound of a knock at your door. Confused, you slowly redirect your journey and turn to the front door. You peak through the peephole, to find the boy you've been in hysterics over for the past, well...however many hours.

He knocks again, this time a little louder.

Your mind starts racing, your heart begins to pound and you get that ever so familiar feeling of anxiety that rushes over you.

You shake your head in distress and you battle with your thoughts on what to do next...

"y/n...please, open the door... I know you're not asleep"

He's right, he knows you well enough to know your mind wouldn't allow you to sleep for more than a couple hours at a time when you're feeling upset.

You glance over to the couch where Madelyn still lays, her breaths slow and fall steadily.

You step a little closer to the door frame and lean your weight onto one side. "um, Drew...I-I really don't feel like speaking right now"

"please y/n, just open the door, let me explain myself... I- i've been shit I know and ...i'm sorry, can you just hear me out?" Drew utters through slight cracks in his voice.

Tears brim in your eyes as you listen through the door to the words that trail out of Drews mouth...you tilt your head back and gasp for air as you try and hold back your wave of emotions. You want to see him, you want to talk, but you feel like you're almost stuck, unable to think straight, you're not ready for the emotional baggage that a conversation like this would bring right now. You figure there's no real explanation on why Drew has treated you the way he has for the past couple of months, and no excuse for acting the way he had in the photos you'd seen, it all hurt you, and it was valid.

Your brain is scattered trying to figure out the right way to go about all of this...but almost before your mind could tell you no, your hand reaches for the hinges to unlock the front door.

your eyes lock together, and you can see Drews been crying, they're bloodshot and his eyebags slightly swollen. You look down at your feet as you quietly step outside the front door and into the apartment block hallway. "i've got to come out here, Madelyn's asleep..." you whisper slightly. Drew nods sheepishly.

as you close the door and shuffle your feet in front of Drew, you look up to him and fold your arms. "so?...you wanted to talk to me what do you want you want to say?" you question

"I just wanted to say i'm sorry, that I never meant to hurt you, you were right, I have been a dick, i've been scared and stressed and i've made some stupid decision I-"

"did you sleep with her?" you interrupt, you couldn��t truly hear drew out until you got off what was on your mind, you just needed to know first.

"huh?" He questions, his eyebrows burrowing slightly

"Did you sleep with her?" you utter through a passive tone

" I-what do you mean ?"

"Ive seen the fucking photos Joseph! did you. sleep. with her?" you exclaim, hands gesturing to emphasise your emotions.

"What? What photos y/n? I- I don't know what youre talking about?"

your heart skips a beat

The truth is, Drew hadn't looked on twitter, Drew hadn't seen the photos of you, or him, or her. He always kept his phone on do not disturb between the night and early morning. And when the realisation hits...you can't help but snap.

A small chuckle slips through your lips. "are you fucking kidding me drew?"` you spit " you really was going to come here, apologies and not be truthful about what happened last night, do you think im fucking stupid? look at your fucking phone!?"

But before Drew can get out his phone to check what youre talking about, you get out your own, shoving the image of him and another girl into his face. "this?" you state through gritted teeth.

Drews expression changes, his brows drop.

"anything to say? maybe the reason youve been such a dick is because youre fucking your co star huh?"

but before you could ask him once more, you notice his attention isn’t on you, but is drawn towards the floor

As you look down towards your bare legs, you notice drops of blood beginning to fall from in between, first slowly…then all at once.

cramping begins in your lower abdomen, however, it doesn't feel familiar, it feels uneasy…you begin to panic, facing drew with your hand now clamped over your mouth…

“what the fuck y/n, we- we have to get you to a hospital…”

a/n: pt3??????

@winterrrnight @loves0phelia @f4ll-for-you @leyla-1905 @dilvcv @abarleyexistentbeing @tringeorge @emmsyysstuff @missamericanablog @deadxrx @clearpoetryobservation-blog @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @emotionsmgcbabe @aliciacat20

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #the other zoey #fluff #obx #rafe cameron fluff #angst drew #drew starkey angst #drew starkey x y/n #rafe obx #obx imagine #drew starkey obx

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mystery-contestant · 4 months ago

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@democracyrockzz @astral--horrorshow @krowsselfindulgy @ratsvoid @savannahwiththegreeneteyes @spacingbachelorette @badeggyt @affinity-play-real

Main Tws: death, unreality, body horror, implied gore, yelling, trauma, loss of identity, internalized queerphobia, horny teens being horny teens

(Pay mind to the timestamps)

We pick up where we left off:

At the end of Ride The Cyclone. (Check pinned post for those visiting)

And that's it. On September 14th, 2016, all of the kids died, none able to escape their fate. Years pass, and the fair rots like their corpses.

Except it's not the end. For they now haunt the abandoned fair.

Welcome to:

The Circus of Life

We begin at the entrance of the cyclone. It is night. (See Chance theatre's set. Note: Just so you know I do not support M*C*rter, as I'm pretty sure Chance is associated with them.)

A headless silhouette appears from behind a sheet, slowly revealed by a backlight.

Jane Doe, singing:

I know this dream of life is never ending

It goes around and round and round again

At times we fall and soon we are ascending

I know beginning comes with every end

youtube

2:13-2:44

As she sings, she puts on her doll's head and adjusts it. (See Station Theatre's Jane Entrance.)

Lights fade out.

The stage is lit by a blue light.

You Drop! Begins.

youtube

0:17-2:20

Each character enters from opposite sides as they sing, walking in beat with the music before turning towards the audience. They act like lamenting ghosts.

The song ends and the characters snap out of their trance.

Synopsis: The choir processes the fact they are now ghosts as well as observes the ruined state of the fair.

(Remember that in order to makes sure nobody feels rushed to answer whenever you want to speak you should put in the comments that you are going next!)

#Youtube #ride the cyclone rp #ride the cyclone #tw death #tw unreality #tw implied gore #tw yelling #tw trauma #tw loss of identity #tw internalized queerphobia #tw body horror #ride the cyclone roleplay #jane doe ride the cyclone #ricky ride the cyclone #mischa ride the cyclone #ocean ride the cyclone #constance ride the cyclone #noel ride the cyclone #circus of life au

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deancasbigbang · 2 months ago

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Title: a few stations back

Author: Kordian

Artist: ImpMakesArt

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester Past Mary Campbell/John Winchester

Length: 25718

Warnings: no archive warnings apply accidental knife cut, blood, referenced child abuse, referenced alcoholism

Tags: coffee shops & cafés, past relationship, artist castiel, barista dean, second chances, reunions, setting: poland, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, miscommunication

Posting Date: October 15, 2024

Summary: Dean’s a forty six year old coffee shop owner, which he runs with his friend Charlie. His life is peaceful, running on a stable routine he got used to years ago, but when one day he gets on the train, and sees a stranger so familiar it hurts, his world starts turning upside down, flooded with memories from over twenty years ago. Castiel is a successful children's book writer, on his way to publish his fifth book. Impulsively, he moves back to the town of his youth, and when he gets on the familiar train for the first time in over twenty years, he’s met with a stranger, whose face is so familiar he could swear he’s drawn it before. When two past lovers meet again as strangers, who will remind them of the love they once shared?

Excerpt: Sometimes, a thought crossed his mind, a thought of leaving, or just moving to a different neighbourhood, but then he never actually got to do anything about it. Always shaking it off, making it sit somewhere in the back of his head, putting it off for later. Except later never came, and every day he woke up in the same place he did yesterday, and the day before, and where he will wake up tomorrow. It never bothered him. They never bothered him, those thoughts. Perhaps because he knew he couldn’t leave, or because he just didn’t really want to.The fact is, he can’t explain why he’s having them. After all, he’s happy where he is, isn’t he? He’s got everything he always dreamed of, a lot of amazing friends, a café, he lives in a beautiful place… Yet, he feels like something’s missing. And that feeling never really went away. That tugging at his heart whenever he seemed to get too lost in his own thoughts. Where did it come from? When did it start? What is its purpose? It was a nice and quite simple life he made for himself here, and he loved it; he truly loved it. But all those years he could feel something absent from it, and he could not have ever figured out what it was before. Not that he could now, but maybe he was getting closer to it? His mind kept circling back to the stranger he saw on the train today. Those blue eyes, dark and always messy hair, and that smile. That specific smile, which was the final stamp to make sure he has seen this man before. And just when he was putting down Miracle's bowl, now filled with food it hit him. He felt like someone punched him in the gut, and he wanted to curl up right here on the kitchen floor of his apartment and pretend he doesn't exist. In that moment, he was finally able to put the stranger in the right timestamp of his memories, fit the dirty trench coat where it always used to hang before. He could put a name to his face, and not even saying it out loud, just thinking it over and over and over in his head like a broken record, hurt like a thousand needles piercing through his skin. One by one. Castiel. Castiel. Cas.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2024 #fic preview #2024 promo #deancas #destiel

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kyra45 · 1 year ago

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Keys guide to scam spotting

Hi! I’m Key/Jess and I’ll be giving you a detailed explanation on how to spot scam accounts with commonly known examples such as what they do or what to look out for. All this information is meant to serve as a post that can be easily understood with information of my own and tips of my own. Any tips I give here is my own and any resemblance to other info is entirely a coincidence. I will make this post as accessible as possible for ease of readability so it is all plain text and no big letters beside the top so it has a title. This is mostly based around pet donation scammers but can be used to spot other scams as well.

—

What is a scam post on tumblr? A scam post is when someone is using information that isn’t their own and claiming they need money but are using a stolen story as theirs. Their situation, while it is real most of the time, is actually from another site and isn’t their situation. Usually a search of it will show any posts but this works best if you used Google or another search engine. However, this process isn’t always reliable. Scam posts are posts that are not truthful and deceive users into donating by having stolen content.

—

There are a few things to keep in mind that will help you figure out if an account contacting you is a scammer and usually, most of the time, you will find it is a legitimate person if you just kindly ask them for verification with any personal details removed. However, some blogs will never reply and may block you or ignore you because they don’t have any interest in proving who they are. It’s not uncommon for these scammers to wave away questions or turn off anon asks or asks off overall so no one can ask them anything. They may even turn off messages to further prevent any concerns being addressed and try to avoid suspicion.

—

One thing to keep in mind is how the account contacting you would have located you. Do you have a popular post that’s breached containment? Did you share a post that may be trending or fandom related? Any of these may lead to someone contacting you an asking you for donations be it through asks or direct messages. If your DMs are closed, the account may send you an ask telling you to message them first because they are desperate and then when contacted they ask you for like a thousand dollars on the spot. If you wonder why I suggest limiting your messages, it’s because people don’t like getting these and will mark it as spam. Scammers also do this to avoid public confrontation. But know not everyone doing this is scamming.

—

Another thing to keep in mind is how the ask was worded that the account sent you. Did it tell you to answer privately because they don’t want anyone calling them a spammer or because they would prefer you to message them instead? This is a very common type of scam ask and one that’s unfortunately extremely easy to get and see if you share trending/popular posts. Most often these are asks related to a sick pet by a blog that is only an hour old or a week old if you check the date of their pinned post. If they detect even the slighted doubt in your reply or question back? They block you.

—

Lastly, it doesn’t hurt to also ask questions to the blog who contacts you and see if they can provide clarification on anything you may be concerned over. This can be showing more images with personal info edited out or explaining any discrepancies in the info they supplied. For example, it could be how the images their using don’t match up with their information or how the story their using doesn’t seem to make sense because it’s not collaborating with any specific details they had already given. It may also be the supporting link they supply doesn’t match up the currency they request because the county doesn’t use the specific kind of currency they claim to need. More so if they don’t give any currency conversion rates. You can also check for backdated posts by turning on timestamps and checking the date of the first post if it’s easy to locate and seeing if it matched the reblog date in ‘other notes’. Some accounts will make posts look older in order to be deceptive and make the account look older then it really is.

—

Additionally, some scams are blogs who connect you saying they can help you but they want to give you a check and ask you to cash it or give them your banking information and phone number. These blogs are never legitimate people wanting to help you if your post has links that lead to ways to send support. Their are legitimate people who would help you that don’t ask for personal information using a blog that has no pfp, no bio, and has no posts. Treat these kind of blank accounts as bots. Report them and block them.

—

In closing, it is necessary to research the information you see in some posts and accounts to make sure it is a legitimate blog and not a scammer trying to make a quick buck. Not every blog you see asking for help is a scam account and generally most of them can easily provide proof their legitimate such as having several close friends, a blog that’s extremely old with tons of posts, or provides plenty of information in their posts that clearly explains their situation and shows the images they use is their own and don’t resort to a temper tantrum when questioned or when concerns are brought up.

If you found this post useful, feel free to share it or add your own tips to it! This is just based around my own personal encounters over the months of compiling information.

#long post #longpost #scam #kyra45 speaks #how to spot a scam blog

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ryuichirou · 4 months ago

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Replies

Catching up! So today we’re mostly having replies related to all the stuff we posted recently.

Starting with the most important question.

Anonymous asked:

Wait, Idia got called a brocon? When?

He did! Grim called him a brocon in 5-13 right after we saw Ortho for the first time :3 (timestamp on 5:42 just in case)

Anonymous asked:

How does that smoke beer donut taste?

(this is about this drawing)

Very smoky! And like something Gidel isn’t supposed to eat…

Anonymous asked:

I wanna see some of your traditional art

Actually, Anon, you’re looking at it…

The majority of things that we post daily was originally drawn traditionally, and then coloured digitally. I really want to do more art that is 100% traditional, but never get a chance to for a bunch of reasons :(

Anonymous asked:

I love your analysis holy cow! see its because of Book 5 that i cant stop seeing Vil and Rook as mom and dad. i love this ship mind you, (they are my comfort ship and it gives me life whenever you draw them you beautiful soul) but even if some didnt see them as a romantic couple--in my opinion they still have that VIBE you know? Like whenever they're there you just cant help but feel like BRO THEY WOULD BEAT UP YOUR BULLIES AND THEN GROUND YOU AND SEND YOU TO YOUR ROOM FOR FIGHTING IN THE FIRST PLACE LOL is it just a me feeling?

(this is related to this post)

Thank you for your kind words, Anon! I am very happy you enjoyed the analysis and that you like my RookVil art <3

Yeah, I think these two being very parental is pretty obvious and pretty intentional! All jokes aside, Pomefiore trio really feels like it was written in a way that they would read as a family. We don’t usually like this trope because characters playing house could get pretty boring, and a lot of family-related tropes don’t resonate with us at all. So I am surprised to this day that we love Pomefiore’s vibes so much. I’m guessing that it’s because of how unusual of a family they are, how Epel actually fights with Vil a lot, and how he grows from being a little brat to being a little brat that is eager to grow and excited to show his senpais his new cool magic tricks, while they tease him but still are very proud and excited for him. Like, they’re strict and would smack him (well, Vil would) but they also want him to grow. Woah, that sounds way too wholesome ew lol

Anyways! Even if we exclude Epel, and this is another thing I’ve talked about a lot, I genuinely feel like Rook and Vil were intentionally written as a couple that has been together for quite some time, at least coding-wise. There are just too many tropes and situations that they have that are usually used for couples… Alright I’ll stop myself or I’ll rant about them again even though I just did a couple of weeks ago.

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

I just love baby Vil so much, makes me wonder what happened

(this is about this drawing)

Adults with shitty opinions + kids that can’t separate reality from fiction happened… truly, two of the worst things that could happen to a possible friendship between actors.

A couple of asks about this drawing:

Anonymous asked:

Oh oh! I saw! Che'nya art! We (smiley kitty fans) are starving! Thank you for the food! It is delicious! May we have another plate, please?

Poor smiley kitty fans! :( I am so sorry you’re starving! Please enjoy your food.

Unfortunately I don’t have any more smiley catfood for you…….. yet.

Anonymous asked:

*see Chenya *

*starts biting at the bars of my containment*

Better question for him..... What that tongue do??? 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

What that tongue doesn’t do, Anon? Wink

Anonymous asked:

Question. How much of Riddle's body do you think Che'nya would lick to clean him?

In theory, he’d probably get bored pretty quickly, but I kind of want him to just keep licking… Riddle thought it would be over 15 minutes ago, but Che’nya’s still licking… The moment he would be done with his face, ears and head (cat saliva in Riddle’s hair…), Riddle would realise that Che’nya is determined to lick him all over. Time to call Trey…

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

Riddle gets licked my Chenya often in my lil delulu ass world

Sometimes Che’nya randomly appears, licks his cheek and disappears again.

Anonymous asked:

Bro I gotta know, what do the tweel's dick(s) look like on their merform? I was scrolling on ur bluesky and saw this one with jade and idia and something between idia's legs and I was like "is that his dick?" If so DAYUM! May that bussy rest in peace

Love your art and speedpaints btw💗

Thank you for enjoying my art and especially my speedpaints! I am very happy to hear that <3

Hehe I’m glad you liked that one! I had a lot of fun with that piece.

I feel like I draw merpeen differently every single time lol but I love the design we came up with for that Jade/Idia drawing, and in fact I do have a post in which I talk about how it probably works! There aren’t any pictures there, but there are some interesting thoughts…

#replies

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whatswrongwithblue · 6 months ago

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The Fire in The Sin

Chapter 1 - Pilot

Word count: 6,993. No TW other than canon typical stuff for this first chapter. Read on AO3 Series Masterlist

Series Summary:

He took her face between his clawed hands and kissed her, hard and quick.

“So now that I have you back,” as he spoke, his voice crackled and lowered several octaves, and the room darkened as he allowed his power to slip out just enough to make reality around them go fuzzy. “I’m not letting you go.”

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 1 - Pilot

Present Day

The Radio Demon strolled down the packed sidewalk, humming as he went.

There were several business sections of Pentagram City and this was one he had been most familiar with, though it had changed quite a bit in the last seven years. It was irritating to say the least and left him feeling close to the same amount of disorientation as his first days in Hell, nearly 100 years prior. Not that his irritation could show through his expression with his ever-present smile plastered across it.

No, unless a demon was a part of his very, very, small circle of close confidants and was used to the subtleties of his body language, Alastor seemed aloof and unbothered as he continued on his way. Hands clasped behind him, holding his cane at his back, his steps never faltered as he continued to mentally mark the changes to the neighborhood he once knew so well.

Right next to the feeling of uncertainty, was its sister emotion, indecision. His very first day back in Hell and Alastor was having a devil of a time figuring out where he should go first.

Who should he find first?

Never mind all that now; best to reacquaint oneself with their surroundings before he forced himself to decide on a direction. Take it all in, as they say. And a particularly dense crowd had formed up ahead at what looked to be the location of an old radio shop here in town. It didn’t look like it was doing so well but the owner was under contract with him, and it wasn’t as if Alastor had been around lately to enforce his standards upon the place. Oh well, he thought with a mental sigh, at least Vox hasn’t gotten his cheap wanna-be 21st century claws into the place. It’s nothing I won’t be able to rectify in due time.

Alastor drew nearer and noticed the warning posters with his likeness posted on the wall of the shallow alcove around the window display. It was hastily done but still fresh, meaning his contracted soul, though clearly slacking in his duties, still remembered him. Better yet, still feared him. That nearly made up for the tacky television sets and their obnoxious technicolor presence sitting just on the other side of the windows.

A decade ago, Alastor would have made a show of breaking the glass, smashing the TV’s, and summoning the shop owner just to drag the pathetic demon through the streets with his shadowy tentacles.

Unfortunately for Alastor but rather fortunately for all the other viewers on the sidewalk next to him, The Radio Demon’s temper had been put in check seven years ago when the invisible chain around his neck had tightened and forced him into secrecy and an embarrassing amount of . . . good behavior.

Pulling him from his daydream of carnage and vengeance, the images on those offensive screens were the first things to really grab Alastor’s attention during the first few hours of his return to the Pride Ring.

Charlotte Morningstar.

The daughter of Lucifer and the Princess of Hell was advertising her new hotel to all the Sinners of her father’s Kingdom.

Well. It would seem as if the stage had already been set for him.

Time to begin Act I.

____

In a dark alley several blocks away, the air suddenly blistered with heat as a portal bloomed into existence a foot above the ground, its fiery edges dripping small chunks that blackened the concrete below.

Mina stepped through and the portal snapped shut behind her the second her tail was past its perimeter. It took only a few milliseconds for her heightened feline eyes and ears to check her surroundings for those who may have spotted her entrance, and she gave a small sigh when she was sure there were no witnesses to her little secret. A small blessing after such a long day of hunting. Killing and disposing of the mess would be easy but she was in a hurry to get back to the hotel and relax.

Not that she would (or could) admit it out loud to anyone, but she was exhausted. That short-horned drug smuggling little twat that she had been assigned to track down had put up more of a fight than she had anticipated. Underestimating the enemy was a stupid, rookie mistake. Giving the illusion of helplessness was Mina’s M.O. after all, and it was embarrassing that some common Hellborn had nearly beaten her at her own game.

The job had taken up all her allotted time on Earth when she had been hoping for a few precious hours to devote towards her own agenda.

Finding Alastor.

Mina hoped her old coworkers were in an extra spiteful mood during their shift so that smuggling demon that ruined her day got an extra-long and painful session in The Pit.

She also hoped that spot lighting as the main guest on the news used up a good portion of Charlie’s enthusiastic energy. Hopefully her new “friend” didn’t have any obnoxious group activities planned for the rest of the day.

All she wanted was to get back to her room with a strong glass of wine and a book so she could drink, read, and mentally escape her loneliness for a few hours until sleep found her.

A nice, quiet evening.

____

“This ridiculous thing you’re trying to do! This hotel! I want to help you run it.”

“Uhhhhh, so you’re not here for-“ Charlie started but with an incredibly unsubtle shake of her head, the petite Spanish speaking demon with the oddly angelic looking spear, stopped her from finishing her sentence.

“For what, dear?” Alastor prodded, leaning forward. The Princess was to be completely in the dark about the entire ordeal and yet she seemed to know something he was unaware of.

“For . . . for, um . . . for redemption! Obviously,” she laughed nervously, sneaking another glance at her companion.

“Oh, of course not, that’s wacky nonsense!”

And he continued, giving Charlie a well delivered lie about entertainment, while deliberately leading her away from the clearly less naïve members of her staff.

Steering her clear of the influence of the other two, however; kept him out of earshot of Vaggie and Angel’s conversation.

“. . . who we can’t risk getting involved with unless we want to end up erased.”

“Ya done?” Angel chuckled.

“He’s also Mina’s husband,” she deadpanned.

“Veeeery funny, toots.”

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this,” Vaggie said, somehow frowning even deeper. “And when he up and disappeared, she nearly tore Pentagram City apart looking for him. Most of Hell thought she was just his plaything but with him gone, her fury was unleashed, and she stopped hiding her true strength. They say only Abaddon was able to step in and control her again. That was her with a broken heart, imagine what will happen when she finds out he’s back and not looking for her.”

“That guy? He looks like a strawberry pimp,” Angel laughed again, “No way he’s the fella Mina has been all bent out of shape over.”

Vaggie made a vague “uuggghhh” noise and rose from the couch, marching over to Charlie and pulling her into a different corner of the room.

“Charlie, listen, you can’t believe this creep. He’s a dealmaker, an overlord, and more importantly, he’s the one Mina has been trying to get over! The whole reason behind her decision to join us!”

“I know he’s bad, and clearly, we don’t know what really happened between him and Mina, but I can’t just turn someone away. It goes against everything this place is supposed to stand for. And who knows, maybe a reunion will actually help. I know they probably don’t wanna change, but if they really were in love, then maybe there’s a chance this will go well!” she finished with a small, hopeful smile.

Vaggie’s shoulders sagged. She knew that look and knew Charlie’s undying optimism had won over logic.

____

Alastor walked around the hotel parlor, once again humming, and mentally gathered up as many details as he could.

Over the decades he had perfected the art of not only knowing when people were talking about him, but also understanding when they were merely admiring, fearing, gossiping, or worst of all, keeping secrets.

And this trio was definitely hiding something from him.

“So, where is your hotel staff?” Alastor asked, leaning low to get uncomfortably close to Charlie. Uncomfortable for him but much more uncomfortable for Miss Morningstar.

“Uh . . . . well,” she paused, and he knew he was close to this mysterious subject matter.

“Alastor!” a high-pitched voice screamed from the stairs and recognition dawned on him before he had even turned around.

“Niffty!” he announced with his hands in the air as the one-eyed maid scurried to shorten the distance between them. Within seconds, she was propped up on his shoulder like no time had passed. “My darling girl, just what brought you to this fine establishment?

Niffty opened her mouth to answer but Charlie beat her to it.

“She’s our maid! DUH! Hahaha, she’s just the best. Soooooo, you two know each other?” she asked, her voice ending a few octaves higher than normal.

Alastor and Niffty blinked at her in tandem for a beat before Alastor spoke.

“Of course I do, my dear, I own her soul. Sssoooooo,” he drawled, in a perfect mimic of Charlie, “I’ll ask again. What is she doing working for you?”

“I came here with Mina,” Niffty said with an uncharacteristic look of confusion.

Alastor eyebrows shot impossibly up and his body went visibly stiff.

“Oh shit,” Charlie said for the second time that day.

His head snapped in her direction.

So that was the princess’s big secret. Fascinating. Of all the places he was planning on looking for his wife and she somehow knew exactly where to be when he came looking. So now his next question was . . .

“And why is she here, darling?” his eyes shifted for only a second to Niffty to indicate he was asking her to respond, but then settled right back on Charlie. The ever-present smile doing nothing to make his expression look less malicious.

“Oh,” Niffty said, and with a deep exaggerate breath, she began. “She heard a rumor that Heaven had something to do with your disappearance after she tore apart a whole bunch of bad guys looking for you and Abaddon told her about Charlie trying to get people into Heaven and then because she felt she had nothing left to lose – those were her words exactly-”

Niffty giggled and took another breath. Alastor continued to stare unblinkingly at Charlie.

“-she wanted to see if it would actually work and even if it didn’t help her find you then at least she got to fuck over Heaven one way or another – again her words exactly – so she told me to come here with her so Charlie would believe she could contribute something and the hotel was really nasty and there were a lot of roaches when we first got here and Mina gave me this really big needle to stab them with and I killed them all in the first week but Mina’s been really nice about it and keeps summoning more for me to kill-“

“Okay, that’s disturbing,” Vaggie interrupted and motioned for Niffty to climb down from atop Alastor. “Alright, so whatever, Mina is here. And she’s almost as dishonest as you, big surprise. You clearly didn’t come here looking for her, so you don’t get to be mad that we didn’t tell you she was here within the first three minutes of you showing up.”

Alastor laughed and put a hand to his chest.

“Please, my dear, I’m not angry. Why would I be upset? This simply saves me the very next trip I was going to take once I settled in here.”

That wasn’t necessarily true, nor was it a lie. He was still on the fence about what he was going to do with Mina. On the one hand, he did want her around and knew she would find out about his return sooner rather than later. Best to make it appear he had been looking for her as well. On the other hand, she would make things very, very messy for him going forward if she got involved without knowing the whole picture.

“Wait,” Charlie said, looking between Alastor and Niffty, “That’s why Mina came to the hotel? But I thought she believed in me? She seemed so sincere . . .”

Vaggie put her hand on her girlfriend's shoulder. "I mean, hey, look at the bright side. The way Niffty tells it, Mina really does think it could work, she just wants it for . . . er, different reasons."

“Oh, that would be just like her,” Alastor said as he continued with his pacing and examining the space around them, “she always was a deceptive creature. And the best lies are always the ones with a healthy peppering of truth to them.”

“Hmmm, sounds like you two really are a match made in Hell,” Vaggie rolled her eyes.

“Is it true? That Heaven had something to do with you leaving-“ Charlie gasped, “Oh, did you actually go to Heaven?!”

“Charlie, dear, I think my first business lesson to you as your new hotel manager will be to help you understand that rumors are often just that. Heaven. Oh my, what a grandiose claim. Come now, I bet there are far more entertaining rumors out there about my absence.”

The four hotel occupants just stared back at him.

“So, when are you expecting her back?” Alastor asked, spinning around and once again invading Charlie’s space.

“Oh, any minute now . . . I’m sure. Or maybe later tonight. Could be tomorrow . . . we don’t really know.”

Alastor’s smile remained but his eyes turned to slits.

“Ooooh, daddy can’t wait to get a little somethin’ from the missus?” Angel said from his lounging position on the couch. “Been a while? You know, if you need to let off some steam before the big reunion-“

“Ha! No," Alastor said, turning to shadow and disappearing from Charlie’s side to Angel’s faster than the spider-demon could finish his last sentence. “Very well then, looks like I’ve got a lot of work to do around here, and I would prefer to get a good start on it before Mina makes her appearance. I suppose I could call in a few favors.”

____

Mina used to enjoy going for walks through Pentagram City. She was always a restless spirit, even in life and well before Alastor. Traveling had been one of her passions and although in Hell she wasn’t allowed to leave Pride Ring, she was sure to put in a few miles on the soles of her shoes when down time allowed for it. New souls were arriving all the time, making her home in the afterlife an ever-changing metropolis with boundless secrets to explore.

But walking home from work? That was a bitch.

It was the most annoying irony that she was one of a handful of Sinners with the ability to not only portal around Hell, but also to the living realm, but she had to keep that fact a secret and therefore had to walk an ungodly amount of distance just to keep up appearances.

She was beginning to let go of her plans for indulgences in order to crawl straight into the arms of sleep when the hotel came into view.

A large golden blimp-like machine was positioned above it that seemed vaguely familiar. She was sure she’d seen it around during the turf wars the wanna-be Overlord Sinners tended to strike up now and again. If it was at the hotel though, that could spell trouble for her. Not in any life-threatening kind of way but it may force her to expose certain powers she was no longer supposed to be in possession of.

Mina ran up the hill to the hotel, formulating a plan as she went. She would have to find a way to draw whoever was operating the machine out and into earshot of her voice. Or, if she really had luck on her side, the machine would have some kind of listening device, and experience had shown her that was enough for her siren powers to at least subdue an enemy. No angelic fire or portal would be necessary.

And then she saw the shadowy tentacles begin to wrap themselves around the machine in a crushing grip and drag it down.

There were few Overlords in Pentagram City who utilized the power of shadows. They were a tool for teleportation and espionage. But there was only one demon who was powerful enough to manifest them as tangible and prehensile weapons of destruction.

Mina’s feet stalled without her realizing and despite her sprint uphill, her breath caught in her throat. The only part of her left moving was the undead beating heart in her chest.

____

Alastor threw the last bit of intent and rage into his magic as the tentacles tightened their grip and began dragging the machine downward.

The disgrace of being at this place, the idea of having to entertain every whim and fancy of Lucifer’s daughter, the audacity of him, the Radio Demon, being controlled. He was going to have to play a delicate balancing game of keeping up this ridiculous front while also re-establishing his reputation and he was going to have to do it all with Mina right there beside him. He had done everything he could before his disappearance to ensure she was not involved, that his damnable secrets were far from her grasp, and apparently all that work had been undone in his absence.

Abaddon.

His shadows squeezed impossibly tighter at the thought.

These fallen angels were even worse than their still-heavenly relatives.

Mina was going to be impossible to handle now. Her infuriating stubbornness and tendency to question everything was almost certainly going to get in his way. He didn’t know how he was going to pull it off, but Alastor had made a reluctant decision: he had to get her out of this place.

With a final burst of power, the blimp was pulled under into the shadowy realm below and what was left on the surface exploded, disintegrating into nothing but smoke and dust.

He had gone seven years without her companionship, he could push her away for a little while longer. It would hurt her even more than what he already had, but she was strong. They were strong. Once everything came to light, she would understand.

Then the smoke began to clear and there she was. Just a silhouette at first; a slender feminine form in the distance.

The small black ears with a rim of golden fur were the first dead giveaway that it was really her. Her shiny jet-black hair was next, and he noted it had grown substantially longer in the last several years. But she still wore the same shin length orange sun dress she had favored since the 60’s, and it was paired with the black knitted sweater she almost always adorned to hide to her shoulders and arms. Trailing behind her, her long, black-furred tail swished slowly back and forth low to the ground.

It was only when he could make out the details of her green and gold flecked eyes, could see that her vertical pupils were blown into wide orbs, that Alastor realized she had been walking towards him.

And that he had been likewise drawn to her.

Damn all his deals and secrets. Every demon and angel in every spiritual realm he could name was forgotten in that moment.

As his contemporaries were likened to say, they could all get fucked.

Mina was right there, close enough to reach out and grab. So, he did.

____

Before Mina could make her brain process anything enough to form words, she took a lung full of air in and breathed in the scent of the man crushing her to his chest.

It was like the humid, warm breeze off the ocean. The still, murky waters of a swamp. A damp, cool woodland at twilight.

She buried her face into his collarbone, just next to his bowtie, and breathed.

It really was him.

There was no passionate display of long-lost love, no desperate kisses or words of longing. Public displays of affection were never their thing. Well, it was never Alastor’s thing, and she went along with it to keep him comfortable. The only time she could recall him kissing her in front of others was on their wedding day. But the way he was holding her now, folding her body perfectly against his own, told her how much he had longed for this embrace.

No one would be able to pull off a mimic this true to his character, so she knew instantly this was the real deal.

Everything she had fought over, killed over, nearly died over, over and over and over again for the last seven years. Right here, in her arms, and she could practically feel the relief coming off him in waves, nearly as strong as her own.

She looked up at him and there it was, his trademark smile. Even after decades together, one of the few things she had never called him out on was that she was sure he couldn’t not smile. Whether it was a consequence of his demon form or his magic, she wasn’t sure, but she knew down to her bones that he was being forced to smile.

There were other more reliable ways to read his body language if one knew him well enough. His eyes mostly, his ears if he was distracted enough were also a good give away.

So she also knew this was him genuinely happy.

“Alastor,” she whispered, her Irish accent only showing through in her pronunciation of the “r.”

“Bonjou ma amour,” he replied, dropping his Trans-Atlantic accent for his native creole one, something he reserved for her and only her. It had always worked to weaken her resolve, even decades ago when she had still been trying to avoid his advances.

She took a small step back, just enough to be able to visually take in all 7 feet of his presence, but kept her hands on his arms.

“You’re really here,” was all her flustered brain could manage.

“It would appear so,” his voice crackled with static, and her world spun in response to the long-lost perfection of it.

She paused for another beat, gathering her thoughts. This was all so much process so suddenly.

Mina took a deep breath in to steady herself.

“Tell me everything,” she said.

Alastor tensed, a subtle shift in his posture, and smiled wider.

“Oh, where to begin,” he said, turning to stand beside her and putting an arm around her waist before suddenly pulling her past the small crowd of hotel residents that were unabashedly watching their reunion. “It’s quite the tale, my dear, and I’m sure it’ll all be told in due time but at the moment it looks like you and I have some things to attend to first.”

He opened the front doors of the hotel as if on cue and guided them inside.

Mina stopped short, which was not easy given how strongly Alastor had been pushing her along.

“Like hell,” she said, crossing her arms “you’re going to explain everything and you’re going to do it right now.”

Alastor’s eyes flicked back and forth between her and the other residents that were also filing into the lobby. He was clearly getting agitated and quickly.

“Mina,” he said slowly, “I hardly think now is the appropriate-“

“Hey!” Charlie said, coming to stand between them, “don’t let us ruin this special moment! Minaaaa,” she said, pulling her by the hand and gesturing towards the staircase, “why don’t you show Alastor your room and you guys can take however long you need to catch up. We’ll all understand that you need some privacyyyyyy,” she ended in a sing-song voice, elbowing Mina playfully.

“Yeah baby, a seven year dry spell,” Angel said, passing them without even looking as he headed straight for the new bar. “Wowza, now that really sounds like hell.”

Mina did a double take as she just now noticed the new bar and Husker.

“Wha- nevermind,” she said, quickly choosing to ignore Angel’s comment and what was obviously Alastor’s addition to the lobby. Instead, she focused her attention back on her husband, given him her most pointed glare and crossing her arms again. “Shall we?”

“Alright,” he said, feigning a more relaxed tone, “if you insist. I suppose seeing our quarters should be at the top of my list anyhow.”

Mina’s shoulders sagged with relief and she took his hand, guiding him along, though he could feel the rest of her tumultuous feelings building up, likely to explode once they were alone.

____

He should have known Mina was going to interrogate him right away. Not that he could blame her in any way. If the roles had been reversed, Alastor knew he would have gone quite mad with the lack of information and control the situation would have left him in.

Who was he kidding? He was just a hair away from that already, and he had a far better picture of what was really happening than she did.

Stepping into the room, he had a second to take in the décor, some of which he recognized from his old radio tower and felt a twinge of pride knowing she had brought it here just because it reminded her of their old home, before the door slammed hard behind him.

He closed his eyes and sighed, then put on his best innocent smile as he turned to face the wrath of his scorned wife.

“What. The FUCK, Alastor!”

Ah, she was starting with the swearing already. He really abhorred yelling and unnecessary vulgarity, yet he had to go and marry an Irish woman.

“Where would you like me to begin, my love?” he asked, ever the professional radio host by keeping his voice calm and level, knowing it likely only infuriated her more. Best to fan the flame so that it blazed hotter and burned itself out faster.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, love, begin at the fucking beginning!”

He opened his mouth to speak even the vaguest answer that his mind could come up with and found he couldn’t utter a sound.

Mina stared at him, her frustration and hurt evident in every sharp line of her posture.

Alastor took another breath and tried again. The sound of a radio dial finding nothing but empty airwaves as it searched from station to station filled the room for a few beats before he gave up.

He couldn’t utter a single word that was on the tip of his tongue.

As it turned out, when he was told he couldn’t talk about it, it was meant to be taken literally.

He would have to find a way to work around that. Somehow.

“May I just say,” he began, “that I truly did miss you. It really was a terrible experience.”

There, he could get that much out at least, and it was very much the truth.

“Oh well that’s lovely, I’m glad taking off without a God damned word to your wife and leaving me high and dry for seven fuckin’ years wasn’t exactly a holiday for you.”

Tears were building in her eyes and threatening to spill over as her accent thickened with her emotions. He stepped towards her but she took two steps back.

“Mina,” he said, doing his best to sound sincere, though he knew his cursed smile often made him look more guilty than not, “I really am trying to find the words.”

“Where have you been?!” she yelled, her voice cracking as she nearly sobbed out the words.

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” he answered sadly.

“WHY?!”

Words continued to fail him so he tried reaching for her but she pushed past him instead, walking deeper into the room as she angrily wiped tears from her face. She was rarely the type to cry from sadness, nor was she one of those women who got weepy from tender moments, but Mina was susceptible to tears when angered and Alastor knew it embarrassed her to no end.

He felt great pity for the situation he had put her in and hated himself for it. It’s why his first instinct had been to push her away before the guilt he knew she would make him feel complicated his plans even further. But she was here now and with the unfairness of the situation being rubbed in his face, he was suddenly determined to make things right with her. So much had been taken from him already, and he had played his part well up to this point, so he deserved to at least be given this slice of his life back.

Mina stopped pacing and fixed her eyes on his.

“You knew, didn’t you? You knew you were leaving the last time I saw you. I could tell something was wrong and after-“ she stopped, heaving in a shaky breath before she could continue, “You don’t know the things I did trying to find you. I hurt people I cared about. I hurt people you cared about. I couldn’t even fucking think, Al, I was sure someone had killed you. And then I remembered the things you said that last day and I . . .” she put her hands to her face, covering her eyes like she was trying to force her tears to stay in.

He came to her then and she finally let him. Cautiously he placed his hands around her wrists and pulled her hands away.

“I’m sorry.” He sounded pathetic, even to his own ears, but he knew anything else he would try to say would be shoved back down his throat.

“Just tell me it wasn’t your choice,” she begged, “Tell me where you’ve been and who made you leave. I’ll keep your secrets, I swear, you know I will. I don’t care if it’s dangerous. I need to know. I need to know, Alastor. Whatever happened, please, just please tell me!”

He tilted his head at her and frowned, concentrating on what order of words, what phrase, would get her intelligent mind on the right track. This magic that was binding him was tricky, but if he couldn’t outright tell her things, perhaps he could pose the right questions for her.

“Do you really think I would have voluntarily left you?”

That gave her pause and he could practically see the wheels beginning to turn behind her feline eyes.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. You know me. Better than anyone. And that doesn’t sound like me at all, does it?”

“I don’t know you!” she said, trying to shove him away but he held on fast to her arm, “How can I know someone who’s been gone for that long? Let me go!”

She pulled on her arms but he didn’t let up. Mina was strong and perfectly capable of exerting more force if she really wanted him to free her. But even in their most heated of arguments, neither of them had ever raised a hand in anger to each other, and Alastor counted on her to not do so now. So he held her tight and smiled wider as he felt her give up.

An outsider would have watched and thought him malicious, but this little display of temper was far from what either of them were capable of.

“You do know me,” he said once she had stopped struggling, “and while I am bound to secrecy for the time being, I promise I will deliver eventually. You just have to trust me.”

“I don’t trust you,” she spat, her ears pinned back even flatter than before.

“You’re going to have to if we’re both to get through this.” He let go of one wrist and cupped her cheek, surprised she allowed him to even do that much, and used his thumb to wipe at a solitary tear.

“Fuck you.”

He chucked, “Perhaps later, ma amour, but I don’t think the mood is right for that at the moment.”

“Fuck you!” she repeated, with more venom this time. She hit a closed fist against his chest and he was momentarily shocked enough to not react. “You don’t get to do this!”

She hit his chest again and this time he did react, grabbing her again by her wrist, unable to stop himself from holding just a little tighter than necessary. Mina stilled in his grip but not before a low literal growl sounded from her chest.

“You don’t get to show up and act like nothing has happened and smile and make your fucking jokes and think I’m just going to play along. Do you really think I’m that weak?”

“No,” he answered darkly, still smarting from the two strikes she had gotten in. They hadn’t physically hurt but they had taken large chunks out of what was left of his patience.

“Fuck,” she whimpered, beginning to sob in earnest now and she dropped her gaze from his and hung her head. “I am stupid.”

“You are far from stupid," he said flatly, with more static and less empathy than he intended but honestly, he should get an award for putting up with this tantrum of hers as well as he was.

Mina just shook her head, still looking down.

“I am so stupid. For believing you . . . all those years. For thinking that just because you married me, that we were happy together, that any of that meant a damn to you.”

“Mina-“ he cautioned. The room was beginning to darken as his shadows responded to his own emotions spinning out of his control.

If Mina noticed his display of anger, she showed no response.

“Why did you come back?” she sniffed, and Alastor’s shadows halted their climb up the walls at her question. “Why bother if you won't even tell me why you left?”

The shadows retracted their ascent as Alastor’s own feelings of injustice melted away. Of course she had hit him, he was lucky she hadn’t done worse. The fact that she hadn’t was a testament to how much she still cared. Through all of her pain and uncertainty, she still loved him. Still felt safe enough in his presence to express her real feelings.

Beneath his smile, he gritted his teeth and swallowed his pride. Leaning forward, he placed a small kiss to the crown of head, right between her flattened ears.

“To es l’amour de ma vie,” he whispered into her hair.

You are the love of my life.

It seemed to do the trick as she slumped into his arms, crying in earnest now, but allowing him to wrap his arms around her. She had a vice like grip around his torso as she hugged him back and that was far more uncomfortable than the insulting blows she had dealt before, but he allowed it all the same.

They remained that way for a while, her crying as he stroked her hair, and let her work through her feelings to the point of exhaustion. He was a little worried for his jacket as he felt her claws grip into the fabric at his back but it was a small price to pay to get her calm enough to hear what he had to say.

Or at least, what he could say.

He began slowly, testing his words for both their sakes. Her name was always his favorite, so that was what he led with.

“Mina,” she quieted a little at the sound of her name, so he pressed on. “I need you to trust me.”

She shook her and pulled away, just a little. “I don’t know if I can.”

He sighed. “Do you want this to work out?”

“Of course I do,” she frowned, looking insulted and it was exactly the response he was hoping for.

“Good, because I’m telling you what needs to happen for that to be a possibility. Now, I’ll tell you one bit of honesty that I think is safe for me to say . . .” he paused, waiting for the block to happen and when he felt no resistance, he dealt the blow. “I didn’t come to this hotel looking for you. I didn’t even know you were here.”

She hissed in a breath but didn’t pull away more so he continued. “I was planning on finding you, when things had settled, when I was in a position to tell you more, because I know how unfair all of this must seem to you right now. I do. But now that you’re here anyway and have gotten yourself wrapped up in this mess despite my absence, there’s only one thing for it.”

He took her face between his clawed hands and kissed her, hard and quick.

The room snapped back to normalcy and Mina stood there, as affected by his power display as she was by the kiss. But it wasn’t fear that showed in her features, it was excitement just shy of arousal. He had never doubted she would remain faithful to him and that would have left her incredibly touch starved and she had always enjoyed his more demonic side. Maybe it was a low blow to manipulate her in that way, but Alastor needed every trick up his sleeve to keep her listening.

“I’ll try to trust you,” she began, “but I need you to give me something more to work with here.”

“Alright then, I will try as well. Allow me a moment to think?” he asked, and she nodded cautiously, never taking her eyes off of him as he slowly strode around the room, one hand behind his back with his staff, as the other went to his mouth, held there in concentration.

“A ha! I think I’ve got it,” he said, “It doesn’t appear to be too much to tell you that I need to gain Charlie’s trust. I don’t even need her to believe that I believe this hotel can work but I do need her to trust me as a confidant that has her best interests in mind. I’m afraid I can’t say more than that for now.”

Mina frowned, looking troubled. “I don’t like this.”

“What’s to like?” Alastor agreed, “I can’t tell you anything you’re dying to know, my own wife is going to spend the next several months questioning my every motive, and we’re going to have to continue this ridiculous façade being nice to these people. It’s going to be miserable!”

There was the tiniest twitch of her lips that hinted he had almost gotten her to smile.

“That’s the first thing you’ve said that I 100% believe.”

“Then there is hope for us yet. So, here’s my next completely honest statement and it’s my promise to you,” he said, taking her hand to place a small kiss to its back and smiling wickedly. “When all is said and done, you will know everything and I heartedly plan on you getting your brutal revenge.”

Mina allowed her hand to linger in his for a moment longer before she pulled it away.

“Fine. I’ll play your game. For now. But I’m not going to pretend for your sake or anyone else’s that I’m happy with you.”

His confident expression faltered for only a moment before he caught himself and pulled away from the disappointment. She wouldn’t be able to hang onto her anger forever, not now that he would be constantly around to remind her of what they were together.

He inwardly admitted that he had forgotten that as well; what a powerhouse they were when they worked in tandem. Perhaps if he had considered that before . . .

But the past was the past, and as he had told Charlie earlier, there is no undoing what is done. Alastor would be smarter this time and utilize every opportunity that came his way rather than going at it all alone. If he played his cards right, he could increase his odds of coming out on top, free himself from his cursed deal, and gain Mina’s trust back all at the same time. In fact, it would seem those two things together were mutually assured. It was so completely expected of him by those he stood against that he would continue to keep her out of this affair.

Mina had excused herself into the little en suite bathroom of her room to freshen up and while he waited for her to exit, he began re-imagining his plan going forward. Yes, it would seem more fortuitous than he first thought that she was already here at the hotel. If she already had an in with Miss Morningstar and had begun to earn her trust, it would be that much easier for him to assert himself into that dynamic.

A bit later, as they descended the stairs together (Mina pointedly not accepting his hand as they went), he leaned in just enough to whisper to her, “Follow my lead.”

He practically bounced from the last two steps as he entered the lobby where conveniently, everyone had remained.

“Well I’m starved, who wants jambalaya!”

Next Chapter ->

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