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selineram3421 · 5 months

Note

здраствуйте можно сделать реакцию на ревность аластора

Translated:

Hi, can I get a reaction to Alastor's jealousy?

Yes.

Jealousy Headcanons

Alastor X Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ platonic to romantic, violence, all caps in bold italics = SOUND EFFECTS, implied torture/murder, gore? eyeballs, possessive? Alastor wants all of your attention ⚠

Alastor has never felt jealous! How absurd of you to think that! Hahaha! Ha... Who is that demon taking up your attention?

He always had your attention.

You could be talking to the Princess but still focus on him.

Hell, you could be checking in a guest and still keep up with his tale of the day.

But now it was quite odd.

There was a demon coming by the hotel, not to see if they were interested in the cause but to use up his friend's precious time.

Even now the beastly thing walked up to the check in counter and started up a conversation with you.

He watched from the bar.

"Hey! I see its dead as ever in here.", the dragon demon grinned as they leaned on the counter.

"Not true~", you had replied. "I checked in four new guests!"

Yes, you had a knack of persuasion. Able to convince many to do almost anything. Sometimes even him.

"Oh yeah? How many sinners walked in?", the scaled creature leaned close.

Far too close for his liking.

"I just told you how many.", you replied and placed a finger on the dragon's snout, pushing them back as well. "Personal space."

He didn't like this demon.

Everything about them set something off. Their manners, their way of speaking, the way they move-

"Oh come on, I don't bite sugar cake~", the beast took your hand and kissed their way up to your elbow.

The way they t̵̬̥̻͂̿̈́ȏ̴̒͠u̸c̷̈́̊̆́̓͘h̷e̴̖̖͒̓͂͋̎ḑ̴̣̋͜ you.

"Nope!", you yanked your arm away and held it close. "None of that.", you laughed nervously with an uncomfortable smile.

It looked wrong. Your smile should be a happy one.

"I said I don't bite!", they laughed and tried to grab at your arm again. "You know I'm messing! When's your break?", they leaned over the counter, still trying to get at something to pull you closer. "I know a good bar to go to, or we can go to the club! I'd like to see your ass in something a little less-"

"Ew, no.", you rejected and backed away.

"Come on!", they started to climb on the counter. "Its just one time! I'll even help you get in and out of your clothes.", they grabbed onto your sleeve.

That's ENOUGH!

He quickly shadow traveled and snatched the wrist of the dragon.

"I believe they said no."

The beast growled with a sneer before looking at him, freezing up once realizing who had their wrist.

"I was just joking man. Haha..", the dragon looked between him and you. "I understand! I'll back away. The slut is yours."

"Excuse me!?", you said angrily.

His antlers grew, the low static that hummed now raising up in volume.

"₵₳ⱤɆ ₮Ø ⱤɆ₱Ɇ₳₮ ₮Ⱨ₳₮?"

"The slut-"

SNAP

He held the demon's snout shut as they screamed and cried over their broken wrist.

"Now, there is a no killing rule in the hotel.", he said and then grinned menacingly. "But that doesn't apply outside."

His smile widened after seeing the panic in their eyes.

"Dear.", he turned to face you. "Has this guest overstayed their welcome?"

You stared at the beast with such a terrifyingly hateful glare.

"Yes they have.", you replied, crossing your arms. "I'd like to keep a souvenir, for memories."

And then you gave him that lovely smile.

"Alastor, do you think you could get me a dragon eye or two? I hear they make nice details to things."

"I'll make sure to get them.", he released the demon, only for his tendrils to take hold of them. "I won't be long.", he reassured, lifting up your hand to kiss the back of it.

He saw you blush before he 'escorted' the demon outside.

After finishing up (and calling Niffty to clean up), he returned with two freshly picked dragon eyes.

You thanked him with an odd little gleam in your eyes. No doubt your mind jumping idea to idea of what you could create with them.

Now with the pest gone, he would have your attention again.

Just like he wanted

"Thank you Alastor. I'll be able to make something interesting with these."

"I can't wait to see what you make this time."

Perhaps he'll ask you that question sooner than later.

Of course he has to prepare everything to properly court you.

I am using a website to translate requests. Please let me know if I have translated anything wrong.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @lbcreations-blog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #gn reader #the radio demon #alastor x reader #headcanons #alastor headcanons #jealousy #implied murder #implied torture #gore?#eyeballs #this turned out more like a fic #he do want all your attention tho

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thekitsunesiren · 4 months

Text

Dc x Dp #42

Danny raising both de-aged Dan and Dani in Gotham and a small apartment. Everything seemed to be fine for the most part. Though he was tired of how many different jobs he had to keep taking because of all the rogues running around and trashing the place. He came home and complained everytime about the stupid rogues that was causing trouble. The latest was the Joker with his bombs blowing up the coffee shop he worked at.

He complained as he made his way into the kitchen to prepare dinner, missing the look that was shared between Dani and Dan.

Because while they were physically regressed to the ages of toddlers, their powers still stayed intact. Of course, the most Danny had to deal with was the two occasionally floated when they were sleepy or excited. Which he could handle. He didn't know how much the two were holding back in his presence to appear on their best behavior.

Which lead to Red Hood standing over said toddlers in the middle of the night. Dan holding a bloodied Joker by his hair. And by the faint trail of blood behind him, they were obviously dragging him somewhere.

Now, he's dealt with kids with superpowers before, but he didn't think he would have to deal with literal babies.

"So, what do you kids got there?" He asked, voice inquisitive yet static-like due to the voice modulator in his mask.

"We got a bad clown!" The girl chirped, blue eyes piercing with a proudness that no toddler should have about beating up someone. Though, he'll give it to her, he was a bad clown.

"And why do you have the bad clown?" He asked, ignoring the pained groan said clown let out that was muffled due to him being face down on the concrete. Hearing the sound, the young boy that had him lifted his head and slammed it down on the ground with a strength that startled Jason for a moment. His hand reflectively going for one of his pistols before settling.

Well, that answered the question of whether or not the kids did it themselves. Sparing a glance between two, he noticed the boy was a bit more roughed up

"He upset mama." The boy answered plainly, frowning as if upsetting his mother was the most unforgivable thing there was. Though, what kid didn't think that way? "He made mama job go boom!" She said, spreading her arms in an exaggerated manner to imitate an explosion.

Ah, Jason did remember Joker did blow up a few buildings the other day. He guessed their mother was working at one of them. Did that mean that she was a meta on the run, a civilian with two meta children, or some sick handler of child soldiers?

"Well, we better bring him to mama, shouldn't we? Bet she'd be really surprised to see what you two did." He offered, curious to see their reactions.

Both children suddenly looked up at him with matching blue eyes that sparkled with excitement. Probably because he wasn't going to stop them from what they were doing.

"Let's go see mama!" The young girl cheered, the boy giving a nod in affirmative before the two began walking down in a direction that was no doubt their home. The boys grip on the Joker's hair unfaltering as he continued to drag him through the pavement.

Jason followed the strange group, hands nestled in his pockets as he couldn't wait to see the reaction of their mother when the group returned home.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dc×dp prompt

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sardonic-the-writer · 4 months

Text

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: alastor being a bit egotistical

↳ song: si j'étais blanche—joséphine baker

↳ notes: got any ideas for stuff i should do next? reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• It wasn’t your fault you’ve always had a messed up sleep schedule

• Even while living, nighttime had never been able to tame you. It was just your luck that the habit carried on into hell. Figures that the world wouldn’t give you a break even in death

• You weren’t exactly an insomniac, per se. It was quite the opposite in fact. Just a simple case of falling victim to spontaneous naps in the most random of places. Yet never at night

• Narcoleptic & nocturnal were the terms that your friends used to use for you. With grins, they’d compared you to an owl; always up at night wandering aimlessly. Sometimes for days on end you’d carry on doing this and that, only to curl into a ball the next day and remain that way

• The habit never was anything more than a nuisance until you’d started living at the hotel. The place was just so big, with so many places for you to lie down before the thought of your bedroom even crossed your mind

• Angel Dust was the first person to find you passed out. He had been strolling into the kitchen, looking for something to consume that wasn’t drugs for once, when he spied you hunched over the counter snoring softly

• In your hand was a wooden spoon covered in a creamy batter of some sort, a bowl beneath it with the same concoction. Almost as if you had been making something before passing out

• Briefly checking his phone, the spider confirmed that it was only two in the afternoon, and approached you with a sly smile

• You were promptly startled awake by a loud shout directly next to your ear

• “I’m sorry—“ Angel laughed wildly as you fumed, not sounding sorry at all. “—but you should have seen your face.” He clutched his stomach as he fell into another laughing fit

• “Hey! Watch it!”

• He ducked with a frown as you sent the spoon flying at his head, just barely missing the porn star’s styled hair

• Everyone quickly made their own discovery about your weird sleeping habits soon after. Each in their own embarrassing ways

• Vaggie witnessed you lying on the stairs looking positively drained one morning, and Charlie even found you face first on the bar counter while Husk wiped away at a cocktail glass

• “Too much to drink?” She asked the cat, lifting up one of your arms between her thumb and forefinger carefully, almost as if you’d wake if she pressed to hard

• Husk laughed to himself at the question, remembering how he had turned to make you a shot before coming back to the sight before him now

• “Not exactly.” He huffed

• Perhaps best example of just how bad your timing was came in the form of an impromptu staff meeting

• Alastor had called everyone— more like demanded them —into the main parlor for an announcement one day. A mere week after the kitchen incident with Angel, in fact

• With a flourish of shadowy magic and a twirl of his hands, the overlord presented some sort of home made commercial on the age old TV the place had, looking very amused with himself as he did so

• You tried to pay attention, you really did. But at one point the actors and stray blood splatters started to look like the back of your eyelids

• By the time it was over, Alastor was tapping his fingers along the top of the picture box rhythmically while everyone looked at him with awkward smiles

• But you? Well—

• “So!” Alastor cheered with a cheesy grin as he spun on his heel. The rest of the members in the room watched him awkwardly, not noticing that your head had hit the back of the couch at a rough angle. “What do you all thi— are they asleep.”

• Static bled into the demons voice at an alarming rate as you let out a half jolt at the shift in mood, falling off the couch with a yelp in your wake

• You took a moment to swipe at your face wildly before blanching at Alastor towering over you nervously

• “Uh, my bad?”

• Alastor’s smile strained itself so thin, you thought it would split his face in half

• “Glad to know I’m keeping you entertained.” He all but laughed happily. But the white knuckled grip on his microphone told you otherwise

• You recall Charlie telling you something about ignorance being one of Alastor’s least favorite things. Especially when it came to his little spectacles

• “Maybe we’ve had enough peer feedback for today—“ Vaggie cut in cautiously

• “I concur.” Came your quick agreement

• You made sure to avoid Alastor for a few days after that

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d34d-r0s3 · 1 year

Text

guys imso streber coded I'm using the vampiric tumblr palette 💥💥🐌🥳

#streber spooky month #kind of #i guess #lolzies #cesar talks #sounds between the static

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scoutswritingcorner · 3 months

Note

Hello lovely ~ gonna request what we were talking about~

Alastors antlers shedding♡ literally? Anything you wanna say about it

Shedding Season

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW: Antlers being Shed, Alastor being clingy. 18+ as it does mention Alastor having a rut. Nothing graphic I promise

A/N:This is my take on how he would deal with his antlers shed and how he deals with his rut.

Alastor finds himself needing help with shedding his antlers. You decide to help him out

It started off fine for Alastor, at first it was more of an urge to stay near his lover, you, it didn’t really bother him as he was a busy man and had things to take care of but it got worse after a day or two. The urge to stay in your vicinity got worse as he got even more agitated than before if he strayed away from you or Satan forbid Lucifer or Husker got too close to you. Then it was the constant motion of him rubbing his face into your neck or shoulder when no one was around, you didn’t seem to mind one bit but it agitated him to no end. But the feeling went away once you carefully ran your fingers through his hair, brushing near his antlers and ever so carefully scratching which caused him to pull you closer to him.

Then it was how his body was reacting, how he couldn’t even wear his own coat anymore. It was like every article of clothing was suffocating him and how he hated it so. The best course of action he thought of was hiding in his room away from prying eyes and ears as he snarled out rubbing his horns on one of the many trees in the bayou in his bedroom. He didn’t need you to see how pathetic he looked and felt, his sweet doe would never look at him the same if they saw him like this. He was sure of it. Despite being in his own room, the wind of the familiar bayou felt on his warm body wasn't enough for him. It wasn’t until he heard a knock on his bedroom door that sent his ears turning to the sound and his head snapping up in anger.

“Alastor? Darling?” You called out from the other side of his bedroom door, his heart pounded before he willed his way towards the door ignoring the pain his antlers were giving him. He shakily gripped the doorknob before opening it only a bit. “Yes, Dear?” He asked softly trying to keep his anger at bay as his chest heaved with every heavy breath. You softly smiled at him, “May I come in?” You asked, holding onto the door frame leaning closer to him.

He weighed the options for a moment before eventually allowing you into his room, finally noticing the small basket in your hands, he tilted his head confused. Closing the door behind you he watched as you sat on his chair and waved him over, “Come here you silly deer.” You teased, causing him to huff but he followed your directions as much as he wanted to argue, he knew better. Especially at this moment. You held out your hands to him, the basket on the side of the chair, he slowly held your hands as you pulled him to sit on the ground in between your legs, his back towards the chair.

“Need a drink or something to snack on, Love?” You asked him as he shook his head silently, he was rarely ever silent. You reached up and gently rubbed his shoulders noticing how warm his skin felt. “You’re rut is around the corner isn’t it?” He froze at the mention of his rut as his hand reached up to rub at his face. “Yes..I do believe it’s that time of year again, Cher.” He replied the radio static filter from his voice was gone as he let out a deep heavy sigh.

You reached down and grabbed a cold water bottle to hand to him. “Drink up, Al..I’m gonna try and help you get this velvet off your antlers okay?” You whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his head. Alastor could only nod and mumble out a warning but you’ve been through this rodeo with him before. You reached down to get the tools from the basket as well as some of his favorite snacks that you got from Rosie earlier today. “They might shed as well, Al..just let it happen okay?” You carefully brushed back his hair seeing as a few strands stuck to his head that was covered in sweat. He could only reply with a hum leaning his head back against you. You were gonna have to get him a cold rag soon as well.

As you began to slowly and carefully help get the velvet off of his antlers he let out a low groan closing his eyes as sweat covered his face and neck. “Want me to go get you a cold rag, Darlin?” You asked softly tilting his head back carefully watching as he opened his eyes, his everlasting smile had dropped a while ago. “No..not yet..” He whispered out, you went back to silently helping him knowing how overwhelmed he gets during these times.

It was only after you had gotten all of the velvet off of his antlers that something hit the floor with a soft thud making Alastor jump nonetheless. You looked over after making sure you had everything put back up and noticed his two antlers had shed, making him grumble loudly as he leaned his head back into your stomach. “Come on, Al..let me go get a rag for your face and neck.” You whispered slowly getting up as he leaned forward watching you. “Take a sip of water and eat up, okay? I don’t need you dealing with your rut on an empty stomach.” He waved a hand towards you but did what you had asked of him.

The rest of the night was spent with him sitting between your legs as you carefully washed the sweat from his face and neck, whispering soft reassurances as he kept drifting in and out of sleep. Soft jazz playing in the background as his shadow carefully wrapped around your body.

He felt a million times better and he knew that the weeks of his rut would be over soon enough with you helping him with how uncomfortable it made him.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x gn!reader

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midnightcrw · 3 months

Text

Provocative

Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader

Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of discrimination (this is fluff, by the way)

a/n: This is my first time writing for Alastor and anything related to the Hazbin Hotel, so I hope you all will like it. Please tell me if there's anything in this one shot that might offend anyone, and I'll do my best to change it or clarify my thought process.

Charlie was walking around in circles because of the fact that her dad was going to come over to the hazbin hotel for the first time.

And while everyone seemed quite unbothered, she couldn't calm down while Vaggie was currently helping Sir Pentious put up the decorations.

"You have been walking around in circles for the last fifteen minutes, darling," your voice was heard as you put a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

She stopped abruptly as she felt the weight on her shoulder and turned her head slightly to look into your eyes, "It's just been a while since I've seen him and I really want this to go well."

Her usual optimistic tone was much less energetic and confident as she started to look around, clearly avoiding your eyes.

You let out a sigh, a small smile finding its way to your lips as you cupped her chin between your thumb and forefinger, "There's nothing to panic about. I'm sure everything will go perfectly."

Your words seemed to calm the blonde down a bit as she gave you a slight nod, "I hope you're right," she muttered as you let go of her chin.

With that, Charlie made her way over to Vaggie to look at the decorations she had put up with Sir Pentious.

You just smiled at the sight when you suddenly heard a low static behind you, "She's been all over the place since the call," Alastor mused, his sharp grin never leaving his face.

Rolling your eyes at him, you opened your mouth to speak, "Let her be, she's trying her best."

"Oh, I know, my dear. I want the best for Charlie too," Alastor's words made you shake your head, knowing there was more to it, but even with you, he wasn't eager to share that information.

If you had known that you would be bound to him even in hell, you would have run as fast as you could in your mortal life.

But your 'lovely' husband had a way with words even then. Even if the two of you didn't marry for love, there was definitely something there.

Back in New Orleans, Alastor had a hard time because he was half Creole. He was always at a disadvantage because he did not fit into the standard, even though he tried his best to somehow blend in.

But radio was really the perfect solution and a passion of his. It even helped him because no one saw his face and only had to listen to his voice, which even he had forced to sound different, his usual deep tone becoming much higher to fit into the society.

And once he became famous, he even started to change his appearance. His usually dark brown wavy hair was straightened by him, while he also started to dress like the rest of the crowd.

But even then it never seemed to be enough. His tan complexion was still striking to some, as people began to gossip about him from time to time.

The prejudices against him never stopped, as people even started to question him because he wasn't married, making him out to be a cruel man who couldn't even find love, and that's where you came in, to get rid of at least one of the many talked about topics about him. At least then the people of New Orleans would know that Alastor really was a lovable man.

You really couldn't have cared less about the standards and the gossip that had made its way when Alastor started to pursue you back then. Even though he did not even reveal his intentions at first, you could still tell that there was more to it than just love in itself.

And even after he revealed his true intention behind a marriage, you accepted it. You didn't really have anything to lose anyway, and his charming words seemed to sway you somehow.

However, getting married and playing the role of a happily married couple had been a struggle. Both of you being at each other's throats, but never really being able to truly hate each other, was definitely odd.

But leaving that aside for now, there were more important matters at hand as you let go of your thoughts of the past.

"Just don't ruin this for her," your stern tone was obvious and with that you went over to help Niffty with cleaning up.

A few minutes passed and everything seemed to be perfect now, but not for Charlie.

"What if he hates the way the hotel looks?" She asked herself, her hands pulling tightly on her hair.

"He won't. You don't have to worry. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you at all," Vaggie said in a reassuring voice as she put an arm around her girlfriend's shoulder and gave her a small kiss on the forehead.

That little gesture made Charlie blush as she leaned against Vaggie, trying to calm herself, and when she felt ready, she made her way to the door.

"Okay everyone, it's showtime!" She said with a smile on her face, looking at everyone as the door was suddenly flung open by Lucifer, who said his daughters name and hugged her tightly.

Standing near the door, Alastor looked at the two of them with a crazy glint in his eyes and his never-ending smile showing his teeth.

And that's when you knew that this wasn't going to end well.

As Lucifer looked around the hotel, Alastor didn't seem happy at all, angry at the fact that he was being ignored.

"It's got a lot of character... What in the unholy hell is that?" Lucifer asked in a disbelieving tone, as a frown made its way onto his face.

Already knowing that Alastor wasn't going to hold back now, you let out a heavy sigh as you rubbed your temple.

"Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color, don't you think?" Your husband's voice was heard as Lucifer then proceeded to ask who he even was.

And with the blink of an eye, Alastor is now at Lucifer's side. "I'm Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure," he replied as he wiped his hand on his coat.

You were about to slam your head against the wall when you felt someone tugging at your dress. "He's a bad boy," Niffty said in an excited tone, staring at the King of Hell while you just felt a shiver run down your spine in disgust at your friend being lusted upon.

"You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast," Alastor said with a sinister grin on his face as he held his microphone. Knowing him, he loves to be acknowledged and it didn't look like Lucifer was going to give him any of that.

"Nope, I guess that's why Charlie called it the Hazbin Hotel," Lucifer said, emphasizing the 'haz'.

"Hahaha! It was actually my idea!"

"Hahaha! Well, it's not very clever!"

"Haha! Fuck you!"

Hearing that, you immediately made your way to Alastor as you and Charlie interrupted them, earning a look of shock from Lucifer.

"Is it really you?" Lucifer asked, his eyes wide as he looked at you. And before you could even answer, he threw himself at you, nearly crushing you to a second death and leaving you breathless.

"It's been years!" The King of Hell shouted as he let go of you to examine your face. You let out a chuckle, "It has indeed been a long time."

The interaction between the two of you naturally caught everyone's attention, as they all had a confused look on their faces, except for Alastor, who seemed to be losing his patience by the second.

Not even letting you two continue reminiscing, Alastor put an arm around your waist, causing you to gasp in surprise, as he wasn't usually the one to show off your relationship, especially to Overlords and anyone above that position.

"From where do you know him, my love?" Alastor's static-like voice was heard loud and clear as he pulled you even closer.

Before you could answer, Lucifer interrupted. "My love?!" He asked in disbelief and disgust.

"Oh, yes. 'My love,' the beautiful woman I'm so smitten by," Alastor was really putting on a show as he even planted a small kiss on your temple.

Your arm made its way around your husband's back as you pinched his waist in annoyance, eliciting a small static screech from Alastor.

"You really have some nerve, don't you?" you whispered in a caustic tone as your face came closer to his, wanting only him to hear it.

But even with that, the man dressed in red didn't shy away to take it completely somewhere else, "Just a few minutes, my darling. Then we'll have some time alone. Oh, and how she loves it, almost shameless, isn't she?" Alastor went on talking while you cursed him in your head.

You knew he was only doing it to rile Lucifer up, but of course the rest of them didn't know that.

"So Freaky Face does fuck," Angel Dust mused with a grin on his face as Husk slapped him on the back of the head.

"You sleep with that?" Lucifer asked in a disgusted tone as he ran towards you, pulling you out of Alastor's tight grip as he took a few steps away from your husband.

"Are you sure this is what you want for your future? Are you even sure it is worth of dating?" The short man asked you, almost even praying for you.

You apparently forgot to mention that you and Alastor have been married for decades, but you definitely wouldn't tell him that right now.

"It's a he," you simply replied.

"Well, I couldn't care less about it."

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine #alastor fanfiction #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fluff

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confessedlyfannish · 8 months

Text

DP x DC Prompt #4

When they all convene at the cave, Alfred is silently wrapping Dick's knuckles. Damian hovers beside him. Tim and Barbara are hunched over the batcomputer, not even sparing Bruce a glance as he strides over.

"Report," Batman grunts. No one reacts.

"Report!"

"Hood pushed his panic button at 2:34 AM," Barbara says shortly, straightening.

The button had been a joke, mostly because Jason would never use it and everyone knew it.

"I patched into his comm at 2:35. This is what I heard initially." At her nod, Tim presses play. What occurs next is a garble. There is the sound of high winds, as if Hood is rushing through the air, even though the comms are designed to filter out any ambiance otherwise the Bats would never hear each other. Interspersed is a mixture of static punctuated by high, inhuman screeches of metal and something else unknown.

"This goes on," Barbara says after thirty long seconds, switching it off. "Red Hood failed to respond to any attempts at contact. I dispatched Nightwing to Hood's location at 2:36 AM. He was approximately two miles away." She pulls up a GPS map of their respective locations, their beacons blinking.

"At 2:41 AM, Red Hood's comm goes off, as does his GPS," Barbara says, swallowing softly as the red beacon indicating Jason disappears. "Nightwing arrives at 2:42 AM."

Dick doesn't say anything, head hanging low as he grips the metal table he sits on. Damian glances between the two of them, expression flat but fists clenched.

"Nightwing, report."

"..."

"Scene was empty, B," Tim speaks up. "No trace of Hood, no sign of a struggle. No cameras in the alley. We've been checking the ones nearby but so far there's no sign of anyone but Hood heading in that direction...and no one, Hood included, caught in the cams heading out, not within that time frame."

"So he's still in the area," Batman concludes. "The local buildings?"

"All the entrances have cameras, which showed no evidence of Hood nor any evidence of being tampered with," Barbara says. "Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin canvased within a half mile radius to check for any signs of disturbances in any of the windows or rooftops but found no evidence to support Hood being taken. A scan confirmed several serial offenders, but when interviewed and searched there was no sign of Hood. Several in the area reported an unusual quiet for Crime Alley."

Batman forces the next question out. "Did you check the dumpsters?"

"Yes," Nightwing grits out. "Empty."

Barbara clears her throat. "I have attempted to reconnect to Jason's GPS and comm as well as restart both remotely but there's no signal at all. The thing is, when there's a disruption like that it usually leaves some sort of sign" she pulls up the audio waves, pointing at the end where the spikes conform into a straight line that makes everyone deeply uncomfortable. Upon playing, the noise from before plays before going abruptly silent. "But there is no large spike, this is clean. It just ends. His GPS is much the same. It's not off, it's just gone."

"I know you don't like to hypothesize this early on, B, but we think this involves a meta," Tim says, rewinding the audio. "We've been running the audio from Jason's comm through different filters, playing with the levels and isolating what we can and, well, take a listen--"

The screeching drops to a sort of muffle and in the background, distantly, they can hear bits of Jason's voice.

"No, I'm not---"

"--don't need--"

"get AWAY from--"

a particularly desperate yell that makes Tim flinch, "I am NOT--!"

and almost a whimper that makes Batman's blood run cold, "please..."

And then, unfairly clear even through the faint garble, Jason says "I don't have a choice, do I."

And a minute later, quietly: "Ok."

The audio cuts off.

The defeat in Jason's last words is palpable, and fundamentally wrong. Jason has never sounded defeated a day in his life, and no one knows how to process Red Hood all but giving his hands over for the cuffs. Nightwing pushes himself off the table.

"I'm going back out there," he growls. No one tries to stop him as he stalks out the cave, not even Alfred.

"I will accompany Nightwing, make sure he does not punch any more walls." Damian says, nodding tightly.

"B?" Barbara asks.

"Keep working on it. See if you can identify what could be making those noises if Hood was standing still in an alley," Batman says, walking towards the zeta tube. "I'm going to make a few calls."

#batman #danny: how do i take this incredibly volatile vigilante that shoots first talks later and scares the crap outta me to a doctor #danny: I scaRE HIM HARDER #danny phantom #red hood #nightwing #red robin #dp x dc #oracle #dp x dc au #batfam #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover

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tojisun · 1 month

Text

“ghost,” price’s voice rumbles in his ear, the faint static almost breaking through his focus. there’s a familiar cadence in his captain’s voice, one that drags against simon’s body in miasmic waves—it is, after all, nothing short of a warning. still, none of it matters, and simon continues to march on.

“the mission–”

“stopped being my priority,” simon replies, cutting him off.

there was nothing but a crackle. a quiet whirring. then, “you know this is not what they would want.”

he grunts. “good thing they’re not here then.”

simon slinks into the shadows, ducking underneath the balcony, his eyes frantic as he scans the parameters. it’s safe. quiet. too quiet, in fact.

“location?”

“south of the chapel,” gaz replies with no hesitation. simon hums to himself—price must’ve shifted his directives too, then.

“roger.”

he moves, his boots crunching against the gravel and filling up the dead passage way with just enough noise. there’s still a whole lot of suspicious inactivity, one that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise up, but he doesn’t get to dwell on the thought anymore. not when a loud bang rips through the silence.

his breath stutters, mind racing—that sound came from the shed.

his legs tense, muscles rippling.

“shots fired!” he reports before he leaps, devouring the vast space between himself and the sounds of scuffling. prayers form on the tip of his tongue, racing down his throat like scalding water.

he’s not even a religious man, but dear gods–

simon passes around the chapel, eyes cataloguing the lit rooms inside what he was told to be a desolate building, before tearing through the wooded shed. he knows he should’ve searched the area for any threat, should’ve probably waited for backup, but simon’s been running on overdrive, his emotions piling. spilling.

he tears the door open, guns poised for easy aim. only–

simon’s body buckles, throat constricting with the words he wishes he can say. but there is nothing else to be said. nothing but thank you’s.

because there, standing in the middle of the chaos, bloody and wounded and banged up to hell, is you. you weren’t even taken for that long but look how much they did to you. they hurt you.

your feet are soaked with blood, your boots and socks having been stripped off of you as though a part of their attempts at making you incapable of leaving. your face is swollen. marked up. cuts trace from the angle of your jaw to the side of your temple, leaving blood to trickle down to your neck, staining your tee. the gash doesn’t look deep, but maybe that’s all the blood covering the actual extents.

simon forces himself to breathe. to stay still.

(everyone has their own triggers, that’s what they were first told when laswell brought you to them.

“remember theirs and be careful,” she said before a pleased smile tugged at her lips. “mommy’s bringing home a new littermate. aren’t you all glad?”

the meeting ended there, just as johnny opened his mouth to complain. price passed around your file and simon memorized every line that night—your tell, your preferred gun, your morning beat.

somehow, he thinks that maybe that night was when his devotion to you started.)

simon watches—he’s always been watching you since the day that you arrived—as you compose yourself. the m9 is still gripped so tightly in your trembling fist, the metal quietly creaking at the pressure. it fills up the space in tandem with your ragged breaths, and he knows you’re still there, trapped in the depths of your mind.

alone. angry. scared.

“status?” price asks.

simon licks his lips. “unstable.”

he hears the faint crackle of johnny cursing from the other end of the line, and simon gets him. he really does. but he thinks they also just don’t understand.

you’re here. alone. alive.

your spiral is just proof of that. proof that even in your loneliness, amidst the pain, you clawed your way to survival.

simon hopes you two were back home—the barracks have been home for years now—so he can reward you. sweetly. fully. you deserve all that and more. deserve to be devoted on. to be adored. to be revered.

you were always beautiful, of course, but there is something sacred in seeing you like this: bloodied, angered, victorious.

he prays that your wounds will turn to scars, if only to give him a map of where to press his kisses from now on.

“ghost?” you finally mutter, and it tears simon from his thoughts. your voice is a weak rasp, like you’ve been parched for eons, and despite that, it spills the tension from simon’s body, his muscles loosening up at finally seeing you return to the topside.

he wants to say your name. he wants to sound it out—aren’t names made to be chanted like prayers, anyway?—but he reels himself in and mutters your callsign instead. the name tumbles from his mouth with the desperation and the worry smothered under the guise of grace.

your lips twitch up in an attempt at a smile. they don’t really get to make it much because of the gash running down the corner of your mouth. still, it makes simon stumble over his feet until he is rushing past corpses and sliding into your space.

“can i–”

he doesn’t even get to finish asking before you’re falling into his arms, tucking in your bruised face carefully on the crook of his neck. he takes your bulk in his embrace, folding you to himself, before he rests his chin on the top of your head.

you fist at his vest, your other hand still tight on the m9, and simon can’t really blame you. even he still feels exposed to any danger from in and out of this shed even when you’ve taken out all of the enemies. so he holds you close and holds you tight, knowing every second is sacred.

he breathes you in, taking in the scent of the leather, gun powder, and iron. it all feels familiar to him; it all smells like you.

simon nuzzles the smooth part of his mask over your temple. then, “let’s go home?”

you shift until you’re peering up at him, and simon takes this as the chance to catalogue the extent of your wounds. his lips purse at finally seeing the gash; you would probably need stitches.

“okay,” you finally reply. your eyes wrinkle as you attempt to smile. “thanks for comin’ back f’r me.”

“always,” simon murmurs, feeling choked up as his exhaustion finally catches up on him. “y’know that, right?”

you hum, nodding, and that was that.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod x reader #cw guns #cw violence #suns #sooooo idk where this came from or why i even wrote it but ALAS

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inkskinned · 4 months

Text

the car broke down by the denny's where you used to work and therefore could never return to. i am trying to pick out the satisfying parts of my life, one-by-one, like i am 12 and in a frog dissection. everything in my life all viscera and formaldehyde. if i can sort the good things from the bad things, i will have a nice clean pile.

i call you and make it sound like i am happy and hangin' in there! when really i am kicking a rock and i am outside without a jacket and i am so in love with you it makes the little bones in my ear shake. someone called my tinnitus an angel choir. i like that it means i carry the echo of every concert.

this isn't the right setting for love. this is a roadside, and a denny's, and i am nauseous and ashamed i never escaped the town where i grew up. the clouds here are this strange yellow, like spilled sour milk. "someone once told me that the orange coating on the teeth of a beaver is due to the particularly high rate of iron in their enamel," i tell you. "the beaver is the largest rodent native to north america."

your voice is crackly on the other end. i'm going into a garage soon, i might lose you.

what i should be doing is calling the tow truck and explaining that my brother's car (that i'm borrowing) (that i broke now, i guess) needs to be lifted by another, bigger, stronger car (which is love too, i guess).

i shouldn't say so much. i should wait, and let you ask about my mom, and ask if i ever got over that cold, or how it's going at work. i should let you lead the conversation, for once, so the love doesn't leak out of me into the gravel. i open my mouth anyway. "if you had to choose between being a beaver with very few trees or being a tree around a bunch of beavers, which would it be?"

i don't know. your voice always has this warm cast to it when you talk to me, but maybe i am just imagining that - i am a poet, though, so i imagine things sort of chronically. through the static, you sound like you're laughing. are you the beaver?

i know, like, logically, not to fall in love with a girl-that-is-your-best-friend. like, who would i even call if we broke up? you're my best friend, you're the person i'd want to speak to. so what if these last few months we keep sleeping over at each other's houses, calling each other for hours, sending each other poems. so what if you keep wrapping your fingers into mine. no best friends. that is the first rule. what you are supposed to do in that situation is leave the situation.

but my car broke down, so. where exactly am i going to go? the car is a very-old chevvy and also where i almost-but-not-quite kissed you after you'd raised one shoulder and looked up at me and said i don't know, i think i'm straight, but for the right person - i'd try anything. the music had been good and it had been raining and your thick eyelashes had made me feel god crawling up my throat like a spider. and i didn't kiss you, because i am a coward.

anyway on the chevy the whole exhaust pipe fell out, and is now scraping on the ground like one silver finger stroking the back of the highway. recently we were watching netflix in my bed and you pushed my hair back from my face like you were making the slowest, most desperate prayer, and then your boyfriend called. i remember us both jumping. i couldn't look at you in the eyes for like a week after. i kept feeling the heat of your fingerprint; computer science, you'd unlocked something dark in me.

google says the closest tow (joe's pick up) is 50 minutes away and also closed permanently. so that's not great. you live in another state and i should be calling my insurance company. i should be calling anybody else. this is not helping. i need an uber. i need to get moving. instead i say: "i need three words for a poem."

yesterday i said love you, goodnight after our 2 hour call like always and then you just, like. paused. all i could hear was your breathing. and then you'd said what a pretty three-word poem. i love you too, sweet thing. the words made my tinnitus act up again, and i must have some kind of synesthesia, because the sound travelled into my mind until it became the shape wedding rings.

orange, you say. the static is now chewing through most of your words and i only catch - borrowing the chevy -

the call dies. i have 12% battery. i never get the 3rd word, but i know you're still going to get a poem from me. actually this rest stop is kind of pretty, and so is the exhaust pipe, and so is joe's pick up, and so are the clouds. the light here is the color of a glue trap. before you worked at the denny's, we used to get milkshakes every wednesday and called it a friend date. you said you'd wanted to work there because it reminded you of me.

the sign's gone dim. the letters now spell out deny. and isn't that something.

#spilled ink #ty nat #ps if anyone wants to send me money for a car. you'll never guess what happened :')

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