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nameless-flame · 11 months

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RoR gods reactions to you calling Poseidon a 💅Drama Queen💅

RoR and fem!Reader crack below the cut

Seated along the round table, various prominent figures of each pantheon waited, some more patiently than others, for the mortal standing before them to reveal what she had summoned them for.

[Name] cleared her throat, putting an end to the idle chatter that had previously filled the walls of the old-fashioned conference room. "I have called you to this meeting to discuss a matter of utmost importance."

Shiva rolled his neck, allowing his eyes to freely wander between the faces of the gods – all deemed to be high figures in their respective pantheon – some even belonging to the same one. And yet, there was one man missing.

Leaning his chair back, the God of Destruction balanced himself with two hands holding onto the edge of the table, whilst his remaining two rested behind his head. "Where's that sea deity?"

Shooting a glare in Shiva’s direction, [Name] resumed talking. “If you had not so rudely interrupted me you would have known why.”

The blue man merely rolled his eyes. He had long before grown used to her more… unmannerly way of addressing them. Her disrespectful attitude had at first irked him, and many other deities, but eventually whatever ill feelings they initially harboured toward her soon evolved into intrigue, and later friendship. Some even more than that.

Seeing how the god had not argued back, the human continued. "As for why Sea Boy isn’t here with us today, I didn’t invite him.”

Hades’ brows flickered and he paused his chess match with Zeus. “I presume this meeting concerns my brother?”

[Name] gave the God of the Underworld a curt nod. “I’ll just get straight to the point so to not further waste our time. Can we all come to common agreement that Poseidon is the biggest drama queen in history?"

Hades didn’t know what was more worrisome; her odd exclaim, or the fact that no one had so much as reacted to it. Have things like this truly become the norm?

Most eyes darted to Apollo, and then lingered there, before returning to her, obviously questioning her statement. However, [Name] did not yield under their distrustful stares but continued speaking without any less conviction. "Yes, sure. Some might argue that the twink has some dramatic traits as well."

Apollo craned his neck in her direction, no longer staring in the reflection of his hand mirror. "Why are we listening to her, again?"

“Because they’d rather be here than at one more of your lame parties.” Apollo furrowed his brows, but ultimately decided to just massage the tense muscles of his temples, not desiring to start a fruitless dispute with her.

“But we are not here to talk about Apollo, but Poseidon – the biggest drama queen I have ever encountered in my entire life.”

Beelzebub sighed, tapping his foot impatiently against the marble floor. He just wanted to return to his research. “How did you even come to such an irrational conclusion?”

Standing tall, [Name] placed her hands on her hips. “Irrational? Do you guys truly not see it?” Blank stares were shot in her direction, only Heracles and Ares had the decency to shake their heads.

“Well then, allow me to provide you with an example; If a fly were to land on that drama queen’s shoulder, he would not hesitate to drown all their villages, slaughter their children, and then feed their corpses to the nearest animal.”

Loki snickered, obviously finding some amusement in what he deemed to be an exaggerated story. [Name] ignored him and continued. “And then, to truly top it off, after exterminating an entire species he would just act as normal, as if his reaction was more than justifiable.”

“She does have a point,” the serene voice of Aphrodite spoke. “Poseidon’s reactions do tend to be quite… overbearing at times.”

[Name] dragged a hand through her hair in hope that the motion would soothe her racing mind. “And I know this to be true because that fly is a metaphor for us humans. I literally bumped into him just the other day, and this bitch-”

A warning glare from Hades.

“This very fine gentleman acted like I gave him the bubonic plague.” Loki and Shiva broke into a fit of laughter. The Hindu god even toppled off his chair, but that didn’t seem to encourage him from continuously laughing his ass off.

[Name] rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, continue howling all day long you buffoons, but I think I singlehandedly made him wish for a second Ragnarok.” This only made the duo double over, trying to choose between drying their tears or holding their stomachs. It was a good day for Shiva to have four arms.

Hermes, however, coaxed his brows. “Do you mean to tell us that you came in contact with Lord Poseidon without invoking his wrath?”

[Name] cocked her head to the side. “Didn’t I just tell you that he looked like he wanted to pierce me into a shish kebab?”

Hades moved his king one square forward on the chessboard, the slight click when the piece hit the wood gaining her attention. “That is not what he meant, my dear. If our brother is truly angry, he will not hesitate to kill whoever is around him. The fact that you are still alive indicates that he had no desire of ending your life.”

Odin nodded from the seat beside his son, who was staring out of the window, wishing for this conversation to come to an end.

"This!” [Name]’s sudden outburst caught the attention of everyone in the room, including the socially withdrawn God of Thunder. “This is what I mean when I call him dramatic! You have just grown used to his actions. Look, I don't mind his exaggerated reactions, but he needs a bit of variation.”

[Name] began pacing around the room, her back straight and chin held high, while holding a stick in her hand. Where did she even get that?

“Someone breathes the same air as me? Dead.” Everyone’s eyes widened.

She was imitating Poseidon.

“Someone accidentally steps on my foot? Dead. Someone has the audacity to look me straight in the eye? Dead.” She stopped and heaved a heavy sigh, “Like, come on. Try something new for once, please."

Zeus stroked his long beard. "Wait, let me get this straight. You mean to tell us that your problem with Poseidon is not his behaviour, but that it has grown old?"

[Name] slammed her hands against the table, making the glasses along the wine bottles on it shake with the sudden force. “Yes!”

“This meeting is over.” Hades declared, already walking away. It did not take long for the other deities to follow him, Loki and Shiva needing to crawl out from all their excessive laughing.

“Fine, go! But don’t come crying to me when you guys realize I was right!”

“We won’t,” cooed Zeus.

…

“Hades?”

“Yes, Zeus?”

The King of the Gods blinked, not believing his eyes. “Why is Poseidon drowning that entire meadow?”

Before the two deities stood their brother, sending wave after wave into a beautiful landscape of green hills and the most gorgeous of flowers.

Hades sighed, running a hand through his white hair. “To kill the flies.”

Zeus turned his head to his brother, already dreading his next answer. “Why?”

The King of the Underworld gulped, cursing that mortal for how correct she had been. “Because a fly had landed on his shoulder.”

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c0nn0rsseur · 3 months

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Can we take a moment to appreciate Bryan Dechart’s performance as Cyberlife Tower Connor aka Sixty and Sixty as a character? 🤌

Though Sixty and deviant Connor are physically identical (minus their demeanors, e.g. the way they stand and walk, like wow, Bryan, wow) and their voices technically aren’t different from each other, the distinction is still clearly there, at the same time it’s so nuanced too. Sixty sounds condescending, imperious and callous compared to deviant Connor whose voice is empathetic, curious and sincere. I’m not even talking about their lexicon, their choice of words here (there’s of course a difference too). Even when Sixty tries to convince Hank he’s the real Connor, you can hear how he’s failing to sound exactly like his counterpart because he can’t replicate deviant Connor’s voice and speech pattern just so. Sixty’s also being very commanding when trying to fool Hank into shooting the real Connor (Hank even gets irritated because of it). Damn that’s brilliant acting, all hats off to Bryan. His performance in this game never fails to impress me. (I wish there were dialogue for RK900 too, I would’ve loved to see Bryan’s take on his voice and presence.)

Also also I have to mention I love the take that Sixty really was a deviant all along too, an ”evil” version of Connor if you will; cold, calculating and even enjoying the situation he had Connor (and Hank) in. You know, doing all of it because he wanted to, because he liked it. Why else would he deliver a whole ass villain monologue before executing deviant Connor, gloating about how he knows what he is and that he is the obedient, favorite child, plus calling Connor a disappointment (and a disappointment to him especially, like how Connor should care in his final moments that Sixty despises him for not being a good little robot)? AND shooting him several times non-lethally before landing that final shot (if the story goes there), like savoring the situation. Of course he also has to ask if Connor has any last words too. That’s definitely not what an efficient machine would have done to make sure it accomplished its mission. In some outcomes his stalling costs him the victory.

Top that off with the ending where deviant Connor dies but the androids still wake up, Sixty is scared and emotional because he failed, scared to be deactivated because of his failure. Then there’s this scene where he shoots deviant Connor eleven times in front of his friend. After that Sixty takes in Hank’s reaction and even torments him by saying Connor’s death was his fault. Still doesn’t sound like a machine much, huh? More like a sadistic psychopath.

Man, I wish we could’ve seen more Sixty, it would’ve been chilling to see if he went full-on rogue, maybe being Markus’ right hand/attack dog on a leash in the violent revolution arc, maybe with his own agenda of taking Markus’ place and wanting to subjugate humanity. Or maybe deviant Connor could’ve persuaded him to their side by making Sixty to see he was nothing but a tool, unintentionally prompting him to seek revenge and to reduce Amanda and Cyberlife to atoms (not what Connor intended haha). There could’ve even been a redemption arc for him, like in a ”what’ve I done?” type way. You know, a bit of an internal moral struggle. And of course, our fave ”sack of shit” (as Hank so eloquently put it) demanding answers from his maker, Kamski, in a not-so, uh, conventional manner. Let them measure their respective arrogance and wit and see who comes out on top. Or would they team up?

Such a delicious character, so many delicious what-ifs.

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christinebloodwrittings · 5 months

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Somebody that I used to know.

Request made by @white-00-7

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!reader Summary: Old friends turned into lovers under very distressing situations. Warning: Blood, Adam, violence.

After the Axe-man terrified the streets of New Orleans, there was the butcher of the bayou. A cannibalistic maniac, known to left no “crumbs” of their victims, so to speak. You knew that by being hunting season, he may be on the woods alongside you, what you didn’t counted on was the creep following you, rifle in hand.

A rustle was heard in between the bushes, you aimed at the bush with confidence, thinking it was probably a deer or a duck at least, the creep making haste to do the same, to your head. “Come out, come out” you whispered to yourself, seeing brown hair and antlers, there you shoot.

But the thud was lighter than a deer’s.

Moving the bush you saw a smiling man, “Holy shit!, no, sir, I’m so sorry, don’t die, help please!” you cried out, but as you turned around the lights were off as well. The sound of the trigger on the creep’s rifle was the last thing you heard.

The free fall was the least of it, but speaking of thousands of meters high, one does not think about the fall but rather the impact. However, it wasn't so hard for you, for the poor bastard under you, it was.

"Get off me!" he managed to throw you off his back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to land on you” he dusted himself off as he regained his composure, clearing his voice when he noticed you were a woman.

“No, I apologize dear, here, let me help” He offered his clawed hand to yours, only by then both realized they didn’t looked like humans no more, “Interesting” he muttered, pulling gently on your arm.

He was looking at his new self when he heard a sudden laugh, “What’s so funny?” he questioned, then you pointed at yours and his little tail, “They’re so fluffy” he wasn’t so enchanted by the cutesy fact.

He was a deer, a white back at that. You on the other hand were a red one. A stag and a doe, how fitting both lifestyles of pride, more than anything.

“Why are you down here, dear?” you thought about it for a second, pride and rebellion was your first thought, then your taxidermy hobbies, “All I can think off is that poor man I killed as of a few minutes now, I mistook him for a…deer” he took a second to think about it, the click that made him stand up was a riffle trigger, your weapon.

He laughed, "You killed me," he continued his laughter, he took your arm to start walking towards the city, "I must say, my dear, that of all the evils in this world, you are the only thing I didn't think would send me to hell" It still made him laugh, "And it's even funnier that they killed you almost at the same time you killed me, life is a great irony" he smiled, one of the sweetest smiles he gifted you.

Now, don’t get him wrong, he was mad out of his mind, also slightly scared, not that he would admit that. Though the warmth of your arm linked with his brought him an anchor like feeling.

After a few years of living together, Alastor disappeared without warning. "I will become stronger, soon the citizens of hell will know of my power” He used to take his place at your side and daydream about greatness and have everyone's respect, more fear than respect though.

“I will be able to protect you" that sentence lived rent free in your head, his voice a mere echo in your memories, after seven years you almost didn’t remembered his face anymore.

Alastor took care of the most bloodthirsty so that you didn't have to, without him there, you had to take measures into your own hands. The Pride Ring came to know you as one of the best snipers, the Overlord Ghost Shot, your elemental power to control the air could make your bullets fly up to lightspeed, also take away the oxygen off your enemies lungs.

You build up a company off the souls you began to own, you provided the fabrics that boosted businesses like Velvette’s or Rosie’s, known for the good quality and resistance. You didn’t worried yourself with planned obsolescence, there’s always a new design and a new trendy style that makes people keep buying.

And giving the amount of violence, clothes get ruin almost every day, Never in all the years you have been in hell have you been short of money, you managed to get a suite apartment in your own district, near the Morningstar district.

Eighty-four years of having Alastor by your side, and he just disappeared like he didn't care. Not a note, telegram, letter, anything in 7 years.

Until one afternoon when you received an invitation to an emergency meeting, it seems that Adam the first man brought forward the extermination half the time, having six months of preparation. Not one year you’ve lost a soul, but you weren’t going to start now.

“Asano, I need you to begin the preparations of the bunker, the winged rats will come down on us sooner than anticipated” you had souls knocking on your door, practically begging to make deals with you, giving that in exchange of their souls you provided safety, free housing, and a quality of life no other overlord did.

Although at the beginning some sinners wanted to abuse your good will, since you are a deer demon they tend to look down on you. They didn't find it funny anymore when they started to suffocate. Word on the street is that the air gets thicker when you’re in the room.

“I have the technical revision of my company Milla, if your plan is to arm yourself to fend off the attack don’t count on me, I have bigger priorities” Carmilla was one of your dearests friends, you made her gears laced with angelic steal fibers, and in return she updated your riffle, also gave you bullets made of angelic steal.

“I’m not saying we should, all we need is brainstorm a plan to lose as few souls as possible” she heard you made a pensative hum as she watched the overlords take their seats on the table, “You don’t wish to hide like we do, though you’ve lost more souls than I have over the years, so, do whatever you think is best, I’ll help if you want to listen for once” you hung up before Carmilla made herself aware of Alastor’s return.

You didn’t owned a television, so Vox’s lovers spat never reached your way, and on the streets of your district no one really cared of other overlords, knowing they were under your wing.

"Y/n dear, how about you stop by the tower? They opened a new cafe on the corner, I bought cream cake and the tea that you like, it’s been a while since I saw you" said the letter that you received along with a new cell phone, Vox was more like a stone among the demons that courted you, and even though you sent his electronic junk broken back to his office, he didn't stop insisting.

“I’m so glad you came, how are your preparations for the extermination?” you brought the tea cup up to your lips, “It has been rather sudden; however I have managed to mobilize things on time, how about you?" he cut up a piece of cake, just as big as he knew you liked, “Oh we are fine, we aren’t the target anyway” your ears perked up in interest, his grin grew bigger on his face as he noticed.

“The princess is trying to redeem sinners, have you heard?” you nodded, “The Radio Demon is helping, but as useless as he is-” you began laughing, “The Radio Demon? What kind of pompous prick is named like that?” then sipped on the tea, “You know, Alastor” but as soon as he uttered that name, you choked on your tea and stormed out of his office.

And thank goodness, the air was too thick to breathe, Vox was having issues with it until you left.

“Mimzy, we know you’re in there you lousy bitch!” you heard the loan shark yell towards the ‘Hazbin Hotel’, trying to knock the door down with a pry bar. “Gentleman, you’re in my way” you spoke, seeing a green glow wrapped the building.

“Not to mess with the Radio Demon!” taking another puff of your cigarette you watched the ten stories tall face of a man you used to know. A smile you didn’t recognized, stitched on the sides, holding his smile up. As soon as he finished eating the sharks he stopped on his tracks, merely centimeters away from your body.

“Y/n?” his distorted voice spoke in utter disbelief, “Good day Alastor, it’s been many moons, don’t you think?” He was frozen, the cute little deer girl he left all those years ago was nowhere to be seen. Replaced by a woman, wearing a dark black attire and tired eyes.

"Y/n, long time no see" he had to shift his voice a little, Charlie and the rest were right behind him inside the hotel. His chirp tone making it seem like he didn't disappeared at all, was a direct stab to your heart.

"You look..." you didn't know anymore, "Different" eyeing him from top to bottom with a disgust grimace in your face hurt him beyond his understanding, "Yes well, I told you I would get stronger" his eyes were different, they were empty.

"I see that, have a good day" you turned around in your heels ready to walk away from the place, "Y/n wait, that's it?" He was hurt? Why did he felt the audacity to pretend to be the victim when you were left behind.

"What else you want me to say?" Since he left, you stopped being joyful, the killing and the merciless torture you went through did that, and it was all his fault.

"A warmer welcome would be nice" you took out your rifle then shoot his shoulder with a dull bullet, "Warmer than that?" It didn't bleed but it hurt, so much it made Alastor take a few steps back.

"Alastor!" The princess cried out for him, "What do you think you're doing?!" Her little horns and red eyes made you snicker a little, "Is this what you've been doing all these years? Help this little girl with her hotel?" Alastor stood up, making seem as it didn't hurt at all, "Now, now Charlie, all is fine, no damage done" she tried to worry about him but it was no use, "Who is Alastor to you?" She asked you, distorted voice and hair flaring.

Alastor had his eyes on you specially when you locked on his dials flashing on and off, "Someone I used to know” the pain was real that time, Alastor didn’t even try to hide it, “Y/n please, let me explain” a small laugh escaped your lips, the first smile he saw from you in a while.

“Not a note, letter, smoke signal, nothing in seven years” he tried to make up an excuse, but you didn’t let him speak, “I had to find out from Vox, and as distasteful as he is, at least is a true friend to be in touch at least three times a week” the fact he told you sent a holy bullet up on his pride, “I can’t explain” he went again.

“I-don’t-FUCKING-care” you accentuated every word, “Woah, what is going on here?” the one and the only Lucifer Morningstar came next to his daughter, wondering wat was taking her so long after she ran out.

“They know each other” Charlie waved her hand in between the two. “Lover’s spat?” he inquired mockingly, which you replied with a straightforward and cold “No” making the devil choke on some saliva, “Makes sense though, with a face like that” when Lucifer turned his eyes from Alastor to you he saw the end of your rifle, “First one is a dull, will hurt, the second a holy one, apologize” internally Lucifer applauded your bravery, so with a smile that reached his ears he uttered “I’m sorry Alastor, I didn’t meant to bring out the obvious”.

He made you smile, “Good enough” you put the rifle strap over your shoulder again, “I’m not going to apologize for that, by the way” he didn’t expected you to.

Alastor watched the scene with jealousy, as in less than two seconds of interaction you received Lucifer in a better way than him, you even smiled at him better than him. If he had a reason to be angry that was one. When you turned your head he noticed a burn on your neck, then he went down and saw the scars on your hands, maybe how many more marks you had on your body, experiences that took away the innocent friend he used to have.

"You're thin, you don't eat enough or what? What happened to your teeth?" you started making questions that made Alastor sweat, “What is this Radio Demon shit? Who do you think you are, huh?" “Somone that will take you down if you keep at it” “Baby, we’re not at the same level, you are the lowest of the overlords”

“She’s right” “I haven’t lost a single soul in all these years, I can steal air from your lungs by just wanting it” he started feeling at loss of breath, his lungs compressed forcefully searching for oxygen, “I offered you my life, my time, my love” you straightened his bow tie, ignoring Charlie’s pleas for you to stop hurting him, “And you just kissed me, and early in the morning after, you took off, seven years without a single signal you were alive”.

“And now I find out that you’ve been here for five months already, not even once you tried to reach me” your hands palmed his chest slowly, your warmth poring through his clothes, “I have my territory delimited by a black line, if you cross it, I won’t be so nice as I am now” you hovered your lips over his, returning the air down his throat.

Lucifer whistled an impressed tune, “Y/n please, I can explain” he heard Alastor breathing rapidly, getting off Charlie’s support to try to get you, his knees stopping on their tracks due to the lack of strength left, “Y/n right? He looks like he wants to make things right, please give him a chance” she plead, it getting to your head very quickly, damn that puppy face.

“Y/n please, tea and tea” he dared to say, bringing Lucifer’s attention, “What’s that?” he looked your way for an explanation, “It’s where we drink tea and talk” you thought about it for a second then looked at his eyes once more, “Someday, not today, you seem preoccupied” with that you took your leave, feeling your heart heavy and lonesome as you did.

It wasn’t until Extermination day, that from your balcony you saw the horde of angels drop on the hotel, immediately seeing the flow of Alastor’s dark magic being shattered by Adam. Almost out of instinct you ensembled your long distance sniper rifle, setting it on the edge of the rail, waiting for a perfect angle to make the winged rat fall.

Suddenly Alastor few against the edge of the building, that’s when you shot, the bullet piercing the base of both of Adam’s wings, making him wince and drop against the ceiling in pain.

“Radio ain’t dead until I say so, asshole” you allowed wind to take your message, prepping another bullet in the chamber, aiming directly at his head, “Freaky face has a girlfriend?” he joked to pass a little of the pain, “Y/n?” Alastor whispered to himself, feeling the air shift around him, his body reappearing beside you after a swirl of air teleported him.

“When I get my hands on you-“ you didn’t let Adam finish, shooting the joint of his shoulder, leaving useless his dominant arm. “Y/n” that’s all Alastor could utter, seeing you so beautifully concentrated in your aim, “You think I’ll spoil it for Lucifer if I shoot him dead?” you gave Adam a warning shot on the leg, the next one being a holy one.

“Good riddance either way, mon coeur” he had carefully stood up, supporting his weight with a hand on the railing and another around your waist, “Oh never mind, six wings is beating the shit out of him now” you said a tad disappointed since your game ended, feeling Alastor hiss at his wound.

“Don’t touch it, let’s go, I’ll help” you sat him on your bed, helping him discard his clothes. “I’m sorry for leaving like that” he sounded so sad and weak, he was deeply angry at himself for how blind he was, for taking you for granted and abandoning you without explanations.

“It doesn’t matter anymore” you made haste to patch up the wound as best as you could, but there was so much blood blocking your way, “Y/n, please forgive me” he pleads as you try your best to stitch the would close, “Why do you care so much whether if I forgive you or not?” he cupped your face, a tenderness unknown for you, uncommon of him.

He wasn’t used to be gentle, not desiring to rip your flesh apart was new to him. Instead there was this fire that warmed him up from the tip of his ears to the tip of his hooves, “Because…I love you” that word felt right, as his hands brought your hips closer to him, his thighs on each side of your knees, “The moment to say that, was seven years ago” you allowed your powers to wrapped his bandages in a perfect way, “I can make it up to you” he could think of a thousand ways to bring you back to him, unsure if in the way you were now, any of those would work, but he had the rest of eternity to find out.

“And who assures me that you won't disappear again? I felt so alone without you” his hands pulled down your hips, seating you on his leg, “Me, I promise you I’m not leaving you again, I can’t” you laughed, hands on his bare shoulders, feeling the thin layer of fur.

“Is it because now I’m powerful?” he didn’t expected you to think different of him, he couldn’t blame you, “No, because I cannot breathe without you, I missed you very much, mon amour” seven years of you in his mind, haunting him, missing the warm spot in his bed, refusing to sleep at all if it wasn’t with you.

“Please my love, my moon, my sun, my everything, let me rectify my wrongs” a chill it enveloped your entire body, “Or let your gun finish what you started” he reminded you of your set of words of earlier, his smile relaxed and lovely, “If you ever dare to abandon me again, I’ll prove that you in fact can die twice” your hissing at the last word made him sigh happily, then he moved to place a kiss on your cheek, inhaling your scent.

“You’re hurt” you whispered when his kiss traveled down to your neck, “I know, but I can bare it” you plead that he took a small time to rest, but he kept tightening his arm on your waist, then the other on the back of your neck.

When he licked the underside of your neck up to your chin, he suddenly winced, proving your point, “How about we try something else?” you saw him grin, he only did that when he had something on his head, “William found the bath a while ago” you saw the slippery friend crawl up the wall, a proud smile on his face.

“You sent him to draw a bath?” he chuckled, “I remembered it was something you fancied, the morning after us…” he remembered, you told him you wanted to wash his hair in the morning, but he left before even giving you an answer, “You know that means I’ll have to touch you?” his ears pinned down on his head so he could nuzzle against your neck, “Ever since that day, I’ve craved no one’s touch, just yours”.

His grin grew when he felt a certain movement against his forearm, “Damn thing” you cursed, “You’re not the only one” he was wagging his life off, he guided your hand to his lower back so you could feel him, “Sappy old man” you kissed his lips, “You’re not that younger than me” he continued the loving gesture, “The water will get cold” you heard the shadow groan thinking his efforts will go to waste.

“Let’s get to it then” you spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms, Alastor nearly passed out when you were massaging his scalp with the lovely scented shampoo, you told him you were never going to stop bragging about it. Then when it was your turn to get pampered, he couldn’t stop himself from kissing your shoulders, the back of your neck, arms, every piece of skin he could.

His hands just as yours were free to roam around, both delighting in the ministrations, to the point only moans of satisfaction were echoing in the bathroom.

“Just so you know, if you have a significant other, he’s dead, you’re mine now” you giggled at his possessive nature, now both dry but still naked on the bed, “Good thing I ended that relationship months ago” you sassed him, earning a small bite on your clavicle, “As soon as I’m better, I’m claiming you” his eyes shifted to have dials, “Sure thing, you have a lot of pain to make up for, ya’ know?” he knew that.

There were parts of your body that were burnt, others covered by patches made of steel, then there were the cuts, the scars, the lashes, everything he acknowledged it was his fault, “This, are they dead?” you shook your head, “Then my broadcast will have new voices” his voice took a low tone and the growl made you feel butterflies, “Thank you” you whispered, lowering just enough so you could have your head under his chin, legs intertwined, arms holding each other as close as possible.

“This is going to sound weird, but I’m glad I killed you” he let out a breathy laugh, “Me too”.

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fanart #radio demon

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ghostfanwriter · 1 year

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✨🔥 Safe 🔥✨

Part two

✨ Pairing: Raider!Joel Miller x afab! Non-Innocent reader

🔥 Synopsis: Your group gets surprised by Joel's, and when one of you refuses to give when what they want, Joel takes all of you back to his base, keeping you to play housewife in his house.

✨ Features: 🔞 Age gap (Joel in his early 50's, reader in her mid 20's), kidnapping, teasing, a bit of exhibitionism (just for him, though), oral sex (m receiving).

🔥 Word count: Over 3k.

✨ About this: This is the first half of a two part story. I wanted to explore Raider!Joel meeting a non innocent reader, because let's be honest here, we eat this shit up, so we wouldn't be exactly sad if that man did it to us.

🔥 Author's note: This one also took me forever to figure out. I wanted him to have a kinda toxic but soft vibe. Like, he's not forcing you, clearly, but he also touches and undresses you before you ever give him any clear sign you're okay with it. He's gross but in a delicious Joel Miller way.

Good reading ✨🔥

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You know it's wrong to enjoy this, God wants to believe you know it. But you can't help yourself.

You and three others from your group were on a run for supplies when three cars full of men surprised you. They were armed and said you just had to give them all your supplies and no one would get hurt.

When one of the men with you didn't want to cooperate, things went south and the leader of the group got out of one of the cars. He shot a warning shot and yelled. All of his men went quiet and gave him space to talk to your people.

The second you saw the man you had to swallow back a moan.

His broad shoulders, huge hands — God if your fingers felt good, imagine those —, his God-like sculpted face and nose, his fluffy hair, his belly showing through his shirt.

Everything your eyes land on make you feel more dizzy.

Your thoughts must have been painted all over your face, because the second the man looked at you, he smirked.

You didn't look away, though.

You held his stare, smiling back, forgetting for a second the situation you were on. The fact that his men were looting your group. The fact that he was the type you usually shot right between the eyes without faltering.

You were more focused on him, on his face, his smile. His figure. How much the big men around him respected him.

Shooting his pretty face was the last thing on your mind.

He looked at all of you again, making himself loud and clear while sounding assertive and calm. His voice making you lightheaded.

"Now, we were going to take your stuff, maybe punch one or two of you on the face — not you though, sugar." He says, turning to point and smile at you. "And then leave and let you go." He says looking back at everyone.

"But when you point a gun at my men? That fucking destroys the deal, man!" He — sounding surprisingly calm — tells the man who denied to give his men your supplies.

"So here's the thing. We're gonna take you back to our place and we'll keep you there with us for a while. You'll work for us and then maybe, if I feel like you deserve it, I'll let you go." He looks at you again, analyzing you, up and down. Then stopping at your face. "I'm sure you'll all have great use for us." He says with a warm smile. Your eyes falter and your cheeks burn.

They blindfold you, so you don't see where their base is. And the big man is the one doing it to you. Your heart beating all over your body when you feel his warmth and his chest on your back.

He definitely did not need to be this close to you to do this.

"This is just a formality, alright, darling? Just to be sure." His hands are rough, but his touch is soft against your skin. He carefully wraps the fabric around your face, "Is it too tight?" he whispers low and breathy on your ears.

You hate it, but you let out a weak and pathetic moan, almost giving in and letting your body melt back against his chest. "Mmn. Huh hm. It's fine."

You can fucking feel his smirk on the back of your neck. "Good."

✨🔥✨.

On your ride to his base you feel his hand on your thigh, just to keep you steady, according to him, and you hear him humming some songs from time to time.

On the darkness of your blindfold, all you could see was him, his face, his hair, his broad chest and back. You were going over the whole situation again, paying attention to the image your brain painted of him, hoping he'd look just as good when you saw him again.

Hoping your brain didn't lie to you, and he was actually all that.

✨🔥✨.

You didn't see the way to their place, but honestly you also don't remember exactly how you ended up here, on this specific situation. Standing on the entrance of his bedroom, watching him put your backpack down near his bed.

All you know is that you're here. And your people are somewhere on this same place.

And you need to keep them safe.

But they're fast to flee your mind when the man starts walking towards you. His gaze dark but soft at the same time. He pulls you softly by the forearm and closes the door behind you, standing at arm reach.

You feel like your heart is making cartwheels all over your body.

"I meant what I said, sugar. You'll all have to work here before I can let you go." You nod, looking up at him and doing your best to not bite your lip. "Tell me, what do you think you can do to make yourself useful around here?"

Now that he's closer, his smell finds it's way back to your nose, and you're pulled out of your brain immediately.

He looks bigger now so close to you, and you can't help but think about how he would feel like on top of you. His weight and his warmth pushing you into the mattress and... he's squinting his eyes, as if trying to read your thoughts, that damn smile on his lips again.

"Anything." You manage to say when you snap back. You're holding his stare the whole time. Not to appear tough or anything, you're just trying to memorize his face.

For later at night, when you're not with him.

"Anything can be many things, sweet thing." His hand comes to your hair, pulling it back and away from your face. An unexpected tenderness to his touch, and you feel like you could just melt right into his hand.

"Anything you want me to do. Anything to be useful for you." His eyes get darker and falter at your words, and you smile softly at his reaction.

His hand comes to your jacket, pulling it over your shoulders and off you, and part of you wished he didn't stop at it.

"Alright. Why don't you start by getting yourself clean and comfortable, then? You've had a stressful day, I'm guessing. Do you have any clean clothes?" he asks. "Uhum", you nod, "On my backpack."

"Bring it over to me." You walk towards it and pick the backpack up, handing it to him. He points you to the bathroom. "You'll find a clean towel there, I'll sort your clothes for you."

✨🔥✨.

You find him sitting on the edge of his bed, by a small pile of clothes when you come out, wrapped in his towel. "You understand I just can't let you go after your people pointed a gun at my men, don't you baby?" His voice is lower and more breathy than before, and God... You could listen to it all day.

All night.

"I do. I would do the same if it were the opposite. We'll cooperate and no one will get hurt." You say, looking into his eyes, watching him get up and walk towards you.

He's not used to people sustaining his gaze. All the huge and muscular men surrounding him too afraid to do it, and none of the women he's found along the way would dare to try.

But not you.

You like his eyes, you like that he doesn't drop his gaze, he doesn't hide his thoughts, and he's liking the same about you.

"Smart girl." He says, pulling the towel and carefully removing it from you.

He takes a step back and throws the towel on the bed, his gaze locked on your body. Analyzing your skin, your curves, your scars and marks. You notice a growing volume on his pants, and when you look back at his eyes, you find them already on yours, a cocky and so goddamn beautiful smile on his lips.

You just can't physically not respond his fucking smile.

"How about you start by grabbing that towel for me, baby? Don't want to sleep on a wet bed." He says, mentioning his bed for you. When you walk past him, he turns, taking a good look at your back, and you make sure to softly sway your hips for him.

You notice the towel is on the other side of the bed, and, instead of walking to the other side to grab it, you look at him over your shoulder, finding him on a stiff posture, eyes fixated on you, his fists tight by his sides.

You turn back and kneel on his bed, his teeth pressing onto one another so hard they could break, and his gaze weakening for a beat. You get fully on all fours and reach for the towel, making sure to lift your ass. A soft and wet, barely audible sound escapes from your pussy when you bend over and your folds get parted.

He grunts and you look back over your shoulder again, smiling at him. "Got it!" you say cheerfully, lifting the towel over your head and coming back, getting off his bed.

You roll the towel around yourself and look at him. "I noticed you have a lot of dirty clothes on your bathroom. Also I don't believe you cook a lot? Maybe I could help you around your house, you know. Make myself useful for you", you offer.

If you really had to stay over and work, you wouldn't mind if you got to spend the whole day on his house.

With him.

✨🔥✨.

The next day you went all over his house, cleaning what was dirty and planning what you could cook for him. It wasn't so bad after all. You just weren't as close to him as you thought you'd be, since he's spent the whole day away, keeping a few of his men surrounding his house all day to watch you.

You were cooking dinner when he arrived home. "Did you have a nice day, baby?" He asked, getting behind you and smelling your neck. His beard scratching you and sending a shiver down your spine, going all the way until pooling on your pussy.

"Just felt a bit lonely, but it was alright." He hums, running his hands on your hips. "A pretty girl like you should never feel lonely." You're wearing a dress he got you this morning, and he can feel that you're not wearing anything under it, groaning and lightly squeezing your hips.

You told him he had time to take a shower before dinner and he went to his bathroom.

When he comes back down, you're by the table; a few pots, a bottle of some alcohol he had, one cup and one plate on top of it.

"Where's yours?" He asks. His hair is wet and combed back, he looks clean and pretty, and you felt like somehow you were already used to him, to his presence. You spent your whole day thinking about him, counting the seconds to see him again, to feel your belly get all happy to see him.

"Oh, I, hum. I thought you'd like to eat alone." You say and he laughs, grabbing a plate and putting it across from his. "Been eating by myself for a while, angel. Want you to eat with me."

You sit down when he does and serve both of you, his eyes fixated on you while he pours both of you some of his drink. "Can I ask you something?" You ask when you start eating, and he responds without looking at you, only lifting his brows, as in 'go on'.

"Where is the rest of my people? What are they doing?" He doesn't get fazed by your question. "What are you doing here, peach?" He asks sipping on his drink.

You think for a beat. Was it a trick question?

"Honestly? Not sure. You said I'd help you, but I'm not sure with what." He looks at you. "Remember what you said? 'Anything'. Right?"

"Right. Anything. But I've only cleaned and cooked so far." He reads your face. His heavy eyes focused on yours.

"Is there anything else you wanna do, sugar?" He asks leaning back on his chair, chewing on his food. You foot looks for his legs, and he looks down when you touch his thigh.

"I thought you needed me for other things. Things more fun than what I did today." His breathing gets heavier, his brows lower and his voice somehow deeper.

"I can't, baby." Your own brows furrow.

"Why not?" You ask and he adjusts himself when your foot reach his crotch.

"I promised I'd let you go. If we do this, I won't ever wanna let you go. Then your people will come for my people, and I don't want to deal with that."

You sighed in an attempt to hold back a moan that still made its way out. You know it's wrong, God wants to believe you know it's wrong, but you can't help it.

You'd love to fucking see it. To see him fight over you, to see him do things for you. He must have done somethings before for his men to respect him so much, and you kinda hoped he'd do them because of you one day.

You press your foot on him.

"You don't think I'm worth it?" You tease, sweetening your voice and innocently looking at him, pouting your lips.

"That's exactly my problem, baby. I know you will be. That's why I can't." You almost feel bad for him, you can feel him hardening under your foot, but you can see he's doing his best not to give in.

"It's a paradox then. If I help you with it, you won't let me go. But if I don't help you, I'm not doing my job, so I can't leave either way. Guess we don't really have a choice here." His eyes find you again and he grins, grunting when you roll your foot over his cock.

He scratches the back of his head, removing your foot.

"Now, I don't want to force you to do anything, right, angel? That's not how I work around here." You nod, convincing him was easy enough.

"But you're gorgeous. And I haven't seen a pretty girl like you in ages, maybe never before. So if you really want to help, you can just be a good girl for me and let me look at you, alright?" He says, palming himself. "Anything to be useful." You repeat, and he smirks. "Alright. Just take your dress off and be pretty, huh? Shouldn't be hard for you."

You smile and get up. You see that he's stroking himself through his jeans and you bite your lower lip, unbuttoning your dress slowly, letting it fall down your shoulders before bending over to take if fully off.

His eyes are locked on your body and against all odds, you don't feel any shame.

Being on full display for him just makes you feral, like you could attack the poor man at any second.

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans, setting his cock free and sighing at the feeling.You have to clench your jaw so it doesn't drop.

He's big.

Big, thick and he looks so fucking deliciously heavy. His tip is glistening and swollen, leaking with his precum. You lick your lips at the sight, moving your chair away from the table to give him a better view and sitting back down.

He watches you and laughs. "You know, most girls would be all scared and shy on your position." He starts stroking himself, slow and deep, rolling his palm around his tip and going back down. He grunts while doing it, looking at you.

You scoot forward and lift your legs, bringing your knees close to your chest and spreading yourself for him. "But not you, right, baby? You liked my attention this whole time" He says, a hint of almost pain in his voice.

"I like how you look at me." You say with a smile, his eyes roaming your whole body, stopping at your pussy, already wet and glistening. "Oh, I can tell from here how much you like it, pretty."

You're already naked, already fucking soaked, and already on this situation. The man is already giving you his undivided attention, his dick is out, and the tension between you two is making it hard for you to breath. So why not fucking float along with his tide and enjoy yourself?

You mention to get up, but he shoots you a look. "No. You stay right there. Just sit and be pretty, remember?" He says in a stern tone hasn't used with you yet.

You pout, but sit back down.

"Let me see her again, baby. So pretty all wet for me." You get up and move your chair closer to him, his eyes following you like a hawk.

You sit down and spread yourself, gathering a bit of your leaking arousal and spreading it over his tip, earning a hiss from him, your soft hand a stark contrast to his rough one, distracting him for a beat. He lets you stroke him for a second, thrusting his hips slowly into your hand before snapping back and removing your hand.

He keeps stroking himself, eyes locked on your pussy, faltering when you start touching yourself, running your fingers through your folds and circling your clit, moaning softly.

He pushes his chair back for his hand to move more freely, his eyes fixating on yours. He looks good, so fucking good it makes you want to stay with him. To make sure he's okay, well taken care of, well fed.

Well fucked.

He drops his head back and you know you won't have a better chance of touching him again.

You drop to your knees, licking your lips while taking a better look at his cock. But you probably stare for too long, because after a while he groans, making you look up, finding his eyes on you.

"You're so fucking bad, angel." He pants.

"Uh um, I'll show you how good I can be for you." You say looking him in the eyes, your low and aroused voice surprising your own ears. He smiles and keeps stroking himself.

You look into his eyes and he puts his dick closer to your mouth. You lick his tip, just the tip of your tongue, just the tip of his cock, light enough to just taste him. You whine when he pulls away, pouting and furrowing you brows.

"You're gonna take what I give, huh? Tongue out." He says, that fucking stern tone back, just a little sweeter this time.

You do what he says and he slaps his tip on your tongue a few times, a wet sound filling your ears as your tongue numbing with his weight hitting it.

It was like he wanted you to do it, but he was doing his best to not let you. Sometimes he'd touch your tongue for long enough for you to lick him, or roll your tongue on him, and he'd furrow his brows in response, pulling away.

He grabs another bite of his food and moans when you roll your tongue around his tip, running his fingers through your hair. He didn't pull away this time.

"Shit. A man could get used to this really fast, angel." You smile and he grunts when you swallow his tip. "Fuck, baby, there you go, so good." He lets go of himself and his dick stays there, fully up and hard, his tip inside your mouth, all of his length pulsing for you.

He distracts you again, but eventually you grab him and notice how heavy he is — just like you knew he'd be —, so heavy you moan when you hold him. He runs his fingers through your hair, pulling on it. "C'mon, baby. Treat it real nice."

"You know I will."

You lick his tip, once again rolling your tongue around it. Then you lick underneath his tip, trying to touch every little corner of him with your tongue. You lift his dick and lick it from the base up, wetting your tongue as you go, keeping it spread and watching him as his eyes close shut.

You suck his tip into your mouth, sucking on it for a bit, enjoying the soft and wet texture on your tongue, moaning and moving your hips, looking for something to relieve the burn you felt between your legs.

You take more of him in, drooling on his length, slowly swallowing him. You do it carefully, but passionately, sucking hard and squeezing what you couldn't yet fit in your mouth with your hand.

His grunts and moans serving as fuel to you as you took him all the way, opening your throat to accommodate him and swallowing around his length, his fingers tightening their firm grip on your hair.

"Fuck, right there, wanna — grunt — be right there for a bit." He holds you in place, and you do your best to hold your gags back, but some pass and he groans when your throat convulses around him.

"So good, baby. So pretty all full of me like this." He says, and you manage to look up, finding his eyes hooded and filled with lust.

You moan around him and he lets you go, pulling out all the way back to his tip, taking a second to breath while you suck around it again, hard while you stroke him, turning your wrist as you go up and down, moaning at how his skin moves under your hand, at how soft his skin is, and how hard he is.

After a while you go back, swallowing him all the way and coming all the way to his tip, rolling your tongue around it and earning a groan from him. He holds you by your hair, keeping your head high as he starts thrusting inside your mouth. Slow and careful at first, but hard and rough once he finds less resistance.

Your hands go to his stomach and chest, to help you support yourself. You run them over his belly, indulging in how big and strong he is, in how you can feel his muscles flex to fuck your mouth.

"You don't let anyone else do this to you, you hear me? This mouth is mine, only I can be inside it, only I can have fun with it."

You moan in agreement. You don't want anyone else, you don't think anyone else will even look appealing to you anymore. He's burned himself as your favorite even before he looked at you, as soon as he walked out of that car, as soon as you landed eyes on him.

"Don't let any boys do this to you after you leave, baby. Would hate to know you had someone do this to you besides me. Only I can fucking use your pretty face like this."

You moan again, felling your arousal leak from your pussy. He stops and you sit back on the floor, recovering your breath for a second. He leans forward, fixing your sweaty hair and kissing your forehead, stroking himself once again.

You open your legs, and he looks at it. "Fuck, so fucking wet, baby." He says, panting.

"All ready for you." You say, tangling your words with a moan.

"All fucking ready for me, bet you feel so good. Would squeeze me so fucking nice, baby, would get fucking lost inside you, wouldn't wanna leave anymore."

You giggle, "Would be so happy being all full with you all the time." He smirks.

"Get back here, baby, this mouth making me happy enough for now." You do so, getting up with your mouth already open and your tongue already out, like you're starving and he's the best looking meal you've ever seen. When you're at his reach his hand comes back to your hair, guiding you to his dick.

You take him all the way, deep, hard and fast, properly fucking him with your mouth. His grip on your hair both forces you down on him and helps you stay steady while you focused only on making him cum.

"You're just trying to help your people, huh?" he laughs when you pull away, catching your breath. "Anything for them, yeah. Only thing on my mind right now." you respond his laugh.

"Oh, I know of better things for you to keep in your mind, pretty." he says in a sigh when you roll your tongue around his tip again.

You keep going, hard and deep, and soon enough — too soon, almost. You could keep going all day long — you feel him start to twitch inside your mouth, his chest losing its rhythm and his grunts getting louder.

You wrap your lips around his tip and suck him nice and hard, pumping him deep and fast with both your hands, twisting your wrists to increase the friction for him and looking into his eyes.

"Fuck — shit. Gonna, fucking — grunts —cum, baby. You're gonna take it for me? Huh?" He asks, and you smile, nodding and furrowing your brows when you taste him flooding your mouth. His hand pulling on your hair as he grunts and groans loudly, his hips instinctively thrusting into your mouth.

You keep sucking him for a while, your mouth full of his spend when he pulls your hair. "That's it, baby, thank you. Too fucking good for me." He says and you pull away, swallowing his cum and sitting back to breath a little. His hand once again comes to your hair and pushes it back, away from your sweaty forehead.

You get up and grab your plate, putting it on the fridge. "You're not gonna finish your food, baby?" He asks, finishing his pants, watching you pick up your dress.

"Already full, thank you." You say as you go upstairs, naked, making sure to sway your hips for him.

Now this should be more fun than just playing housewife.

✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥

✨🔥 Coming up: You understand why his people respect fear him so much, but it's a good thing if it's used to protect you. Right?

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Hope you liked it, stay tuned for the next part 💝

Part two

#joel miller x reader #smut #fanfic #ghostfanwriter #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal's characters #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #raider!joel miller #dark!joel

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dangerousduckcloud · 12 days

Text

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

Read it also on AO3

“It’s about the gun.” “You got it working?” Dick’s voice wasn’t clear, munching on something crunchy and loud. “I need to do several tests first, but… Yeah, I think so.”

Chapter 13 < > Chapter 15 [soon]

Masterlist

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Taking a deep breath, you calmed your racing heart, a feeble attempt to rid of the shaking in your hands, peering at your unsuspecting prey, oblivious to the hell that would rain down upon him any second now.

Tim had helped you set up everything in place, at the moment waiting for him to be done on his side. “Ready?” He whispered. Adrenaline pumping your veins, you nodded, a brief glance at him revealed he was already in place, his body and face impassive, no emotion reflected in them.

Through the lens, you searched for your enemy once more. You felt the need to lay your elbows on the handrail for extra support despite that the stabilizer Tim had given you was enough to balance everything.

He’d move since the last time you locked him in your sight, moving slightly to the left to get your mark into focus, fiddling with the camera on his hands, looking through the photos that were undoubtedly of you.

“On the count of three. Three, two, one… Now!”

The once tidy up man, with a clean white shirt had soon been overwhelmed by splashes of (barely) red, and (mostly) yellow paint covering each centimeter of his body. As expected, Tim’s shots landed on the paparazzi 99% of the time, and while you’d some luck to hit him on the left shoulder and his back, most of your shots ended on the trees and the driveway around.

Cackling like mad, both you and Tim didn’t relent, your anger subsiding with every jump from side to side the man was doing in his attempt to avoid the paint pellets, succeeding the minute he found his car keys —a pristine, beautiful car now your new motivation, as it was an easier target.

Even though it was short-lived, this is probably the most fun you had in a long while.

The moment you couldn’t see the car anymore, you and Tim shared a high-five. “Excuse me.” A cold, gravelly voice behind you chilled every bone in your body, rooted in its place and too afraid to make a movement and bring down Alfred’s ire upon yourself. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“It was Tim’s idea!” You blurted out, pointing at him while he looked at you, mouth agape, surprised and rightly betrayed.

“I don’t care whose idea it was. This is an idiotic, foolish thing you’ve both done. You will clean up the driveway—”

“Jane’s the one that made the whole mess by failing, why should I clean?”

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry, I forgot we all had to be shooting prodigies.”

“You had a stabilizer! And you still failed!”

“Children!” You’d never heard Alfred raise his voice quite like now, his left eye twitching, and the crease between his brows deepening. “I frankly don’t care who failed and who didn’t, you should know better.”

Your cheeks had gotten so red you could fry an egg on them. You’d come to respect Alfred after all your time here, the shame consuming you at seeing him so disappointed in you.

“Yes, Alfred.” Both you and Tim mumbled. Theres was no point in arguing further with him. No one could ever win against him.

The man placed a hand in front of him, wordlessly ordering to hand over the paint guns, complying without a word. “There are buckets and rags in the utility closet in the lower floor. I’d advise you to start now if you do not wish to miss lunch.”

𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪

“Missed a spot. There.” Cass had woken up from her nap in the middle of you and Tim cleaning, seating herself atop a concrete pillar. You moved towards where she was pointing. The paint had already begun to dry, making it harder to clean, not to mention how hard it was to clean grass, plucking the paint covered parts and letting the wind take them away when you had enough.

“Can’t believe you would out me like that.” Tim grumbled. “I trusted you, Jane. Shame on you.”

“Against Alfred’s ire, it’s every woman for herself.”

Cass chuckled, her feet swinging one after the other, her heels thumping against the column. The cleaning continued in silence up until the distant sound of a car approaching made you three stop, waiting for the car to get closer and see who it was.

Could it be the reporter again? No, this car was different —and clean—, so unless the man was stupid enough to come back and risk getting another car a new paint job, it had to e someone else.

“Brother!” Cass exclaimed when the driver had gotten out of the car, jumping down from the fence straight to Dick’s arms. “I missed you!”

“Aww, I missed you too, Cass.” Dick let go of her, rounding the left opened door of his car, a frown on his face when he noticed you two. “Hey guys, what are you doing?”

“My punishment for being a good person and helping a traitor.”

“I swear, Timothy, I’m going to put salt in your coffee.”

“Oh, so now I’m being threatened. For shame.”

You threw your rag to his face, your less than good aiming not even getting it close to him. Tim broke into a wheezing fit, holding his stomach and balancing himself until his back hit the grass.

“Don’t forget, Drake, I know where you live.” Tim’s chuckles were joined by those of Dick’s.

“I’m definitely missing a lot of context here. I can only gather you’ve been spending a lot of time with Damian, Jane.”

Prepared for Dick’s arrival, Alfred had busied himself with cooking some of Dick’s favorites meals. The kitchen a combination of wonderful smells of dishes you’d never heard of before.

Having meals with so few people felt weird now, having grown accustomed to all the chatter and bickering Damian and mostly Steph would make. Today it was only Dick, Cass, Alfred, and you. Tim had to leave in a hurry after a PR disaster involving a higher up employee —Something about embezzlement or something like that.

“So, what’s space like?” You asked in between bites.

“Oh, you know, just the usual.”

“Unbelievable that not only you went to space, but also other planets and the only thing you can say is ‘Just the usual.”

Dick chuckled.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Uh.” He took a sip of his drink, clearing his throat. “It’s usually hard to enjoy the scenery when time’s not on your side. Green Lantern was being accused of genocide, and, well, the penalty would be execution if he was guilty, so you’ll understand why we were so desperate to find out what was going on.”

“Did he do it?”

“Of course not. He thought he did it, as an accident, but someone was trying to frame him. They used holograms to make it seem like the planet was destroyed.”

“That’s horrible! Why would someone do that?”

“In simpler words? Power.”

Just how taxing is it to be a superhero or a vigilante? To have the weight of the world on your shoulders, to constantly be risking your life for people that most likely wouldn’t even give you the time of day on a normal afternoon. How can they keep their heads cool knowing that if they fail, it’s literally quite possible for their whole word to cease to exist?

“So,” Dick spoke again. “How much did you and Tim messed up to get reprimanded like that?”

You groaned, letting your head dramatically fall to the table. Cass was laughing and you could hear the awfully loud sigh of disappointment from Alfred.

“In my defense, it was an extremely disgusting article.”

𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪

Just like Tim said, no one else, be it the newspapers, gossip shows or any random citizen in social media even mentioned the article. Your appearance in the media had practically gone unnoticed.

After your whole explanation to Dick, —and after his disgust had passed— he assured you as well Bruce’s reputation would not be tainted, a fact you confirmed with each hour that passed and nothing else came up.

However, he stressed that if you still wanted, you could sue them for slander. Or they could, since getting involved in that kind of legal issues would bring a whole new wave of unnecessary worries and attention from the public eye to the Wayne’s, mainly; you don’t exist. Not legally, at least.

You let it be. No need to bring unwanted attention to the family.

| Why are my classmates asking about you?

Oh, you hadn’t thought about telling Damian. Nor how he would take to the article.

| Because I’m so cool and awesome and everyone wants to hang out with me? ;)

| And why are they calling you my mother?

| I’ll tell you, alright? Just, trust me, it’s nothing. Tim and I took care of it. https://www.gotham.weekly/bruce-wayne’s-biological...

You were actually scared of how he would react, knowing the kid, he would probably make a surprise appearance at the newspaper’s HQ with his swords and threaten everyone inside.

He was taking a while to reply. Was he on his way to the manor or did he have some kind of retractable swords he carried anywhere? You wouldn’t be surprised.

Or maybe he simply was caught texting during class.

Honestly, both were quite possible. Still, you wouldn’t try to call him in case he was actually in class, paying attention or something. You tapped on the article’s link one more time. Even if it was revolting the things people would write for engagement, and you would unfortunately remember this incident every time you looked at them, you needed to download the photos, ignoring the motives as to why they were taken, they were still nice pictures. And you would print all the photos that you could before going back, something to remind you all of this wasn’t a dream.

Your heart sank the moment you opened the link, and it sent you to the white, ‘404 not found’ screen.

| I took care of it.

Oh. Well, that was... Quite a better reaction than you expected.

| Thank you, Dami :)! Wish I’d saved the photos first, tho.

| image1.jpg, image2.jpg.

𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪

As soon as Damian had discovered Dick had come back, he wandered to him like a magnet, never leaving his side. Every time you walked near them, the only thing you could hear was Damian narrating him all the things he did while he was gone.

You were relieved Damian had all but forgotten about your ‘lessons’, you loved he wanted to teach you how to protect yourself, but your body was still extremely sore, and hurting, and you wouldn’t be able to handle another night of practice.

Walking down the corridor to your room, you were ready to call it quits for the day, even if it was early. The living room was usually empty at this hour, with everyone in the house getting ready down in the cave for patrol, that’s why, when a familiar set of voices mentioning a very particular word reached your ears, curiosity sparked in you.

“It’s about the gun.”

“You got it working?” Dick’s voice wasn’t clear, munching on something crunchy and loud.

“I need to do several tests first, but… Yeah, I think so.”

“That’s great, Timmy!”

“Yeah…” Tim’s voice was gravelly, lacking the same enthusiasms his older brother had. “But Jane…”

“I know, I’ll miss her too. But she has her own life to go back to.”

“It’s not that, Dick—I, the math, I did it—”

You stopped listening the moment Damian turned the corner, a brow raised and coming to a halt when he saw you. Alfred the cat was calmly perched on his arms, jumping down at the lack of movement, stretching for a second before walking away.

With a nervous smile, you walked to him, away from the living room. “Why were you spying on my brothers?” Well, at least he’s calling Tim his brother.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were.”

“They were talking about that alien gun thing, and my world, was I not supposed to listen?”

“There is something called privacy,” The crease on his forehead deepened. “even if you are the topic of their talk. They will let you know when they are ready to do so.”

You opened your mouth, but no words left, whatever futile retort dying on your tongue. It was a whole level of humiliating to being scolded by a ten-year-old, even if that kid was Damian. Because, yeah, even if it wasn’t your intention at first, you were listening in. But it truly was impossible not to when weeks had gone by and not a single peep had been said about your situation. Whenever you brought it up with Tim, his ever-ready response was ‘working on it.’ Each time. Nothing more, nothing less.

And he was working on it, there was no doubt about it, even if he was doing so purely to get his dad back, or to help you as well, it didn’t matter.

But you were starting to feel uneasy for a second time, just like your first days here. There was something in the way he always said it; unsure, distant, avoiding your gaze while changing the topic. So, yeah, sue you for wanting to be in the know.

“How was school?”

“Bearable.” You chuckled, walking alongside him up the stairs leading to the second floor, the sun setting in the horizon. “I researched the clubs per your request.”

“Suggestion, Damian. Suggestion.”

“There is a voluntary program in an animal shelter, Friday evenings. And… It is not for students only. Anyone can go.”

“You’re saying you want me to go with you?”

“If that is what it takes to keep you from snooping around.”

He said it so nonchalantly, an afterthought, yet you noticed through the reflection of one of the mirrors in the hall how he kept glancing at you.

“Of course I’ll be there.”

His shy, small smile almost made you want to pinch his cheeks like an old lady, but you still appreciated having an un-broken hand, settling for messing up his hair.

𓆩𓆪𓆩𓆪

You’d been here for weeks, and the beds at Wayne Manor still felt so surreal as your first night here. The satin bedsheets were still as smooth as ever, the pillows were never hot, no matter how high the temperature was, and in all, you always slept like a baby.

You wondered if they had some kind of magic in them to be so damn comfortable all the time.

Considering just who this house belongs to, you wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

Every night you would fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, not waking up until your alarm went off. This morning was different; a soft, but repetitive thud, thud against the window woke you from your slumber. Sluggishly, you grabbed a cushion to place over your ear to muffle the sound of whatever bird thought your room was the perfect place to be annoying.

It seemed luck was not on your side, the noise getting louder and faster. You groaned, throwing the cushion and blanket to the side, tapping the cold floor with your feet to find your slippers in the dark. A quick look to your phone, eyes squinting at the bright screen, revealed it was fifteen to five. Not even five in the morning. When you slid open the curtains, you expected to see a spooked bird flying away.

There was a bird. Just not the type you expected.

Sitting on the window’s ledge, a raised hand ready to knock once again, hanging in the air at noticing the curtain moving, a soft smile replaced his calm look once he took in your disheveled hair and sleepy hair.

You, on the other hand, had an opposite reaction, an audible gasp escaping you, covering your mouth with both hands a second later, turning to face the door and see if anyone had heard you.

“What are you doing?” As much as you wanted to yell at him, you had to do it in whispers, doing so right after you unlatched the lock to open the window, sticking your head out, a shiver running down your body caused by the chilly morning breeze, your knee-length shorts and sleeveless shirt not suited to properly warm you.

“Told you I’ll take you on a date.”

“At five in the morning?”

“Yep.”

You moved to the side when he got up from the edge to get inside your room, your heart skipping a beat at seeing him crouched so unbothered, half of his feet resting on air. You knew he had incredible balance and reflexes, but you couldn’t suppress the need to step forward and grab him so he wouldn’t fall. You didn’t do anything of the sorts, instead letting the cold air keeping for face fixed from the crisis your mind was going through.

“I promise it’s going to be worth it.” His feet landed without a sound, closing the window behind him.

“It’s going to be worth it. I promise.”

“All guys say the same thing, you know.”

“I’m not like other guys.” As soon as the words left his lips, his grin turned into a grimace, and you were a spectator of how hard he was cringing internally, hiding his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. Which, you now noticed, he wasn’t wearing his Red Hood suit, but simply jeans and a red sweatshirt. The tips of his hair were wet, yet when you looked out the window, the cobbled paths and grass lighted up by the garden lamps were dry.

To help him avoid more embarrassment, you asked once again.

“What could be worth it at this hour?”

He sat on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the straps of his hood. Even sitting down, you still weren’t taller than him, instead now being eye level.

“Trust me. Just change into something warm and comfortable.”

You took one last look at him before walking into your closet, gathering in your arms an outfit like his, a pair of jeans and a basic gray jumper. On your way to the bathroom, you pretended to be cleaning the sweater from invisible dust. What were you supposed to do if he was also looking at you? Smile? Say something? Look intently at him like a weirdo?

Before you could completely close the door, you heard him talk to himself, “‘Not like other guys?’ Seriously?” His groan drowned the click of the door closing, a smile on your face. It seems you’re not the only one nervous tonight.

Letting go of the door knob, you exhaled. You have no clue what he’s planning to do, and your sleep laded brain couldn’t conjure up any plausible or logical idea. And the time it was taking you to get ready was making you self-conscious on top of already feeling anxious and giddy, but you simply cannot go out with Jason with practically a bird nest on your hair, and never in a million years would you kiss him with morning breath.

That last thought made you pause halfway through putting your hair up with a bat-shaped hair claw —a claw Cass had gifted you the only time you went out to the mall.

That wasn’t going to happen, would it? There was no reason for him... What if he’s just— Oh who are you kidding? Why else would he take you on a date at the crack of dawn? Why bother if he’s not going after something? So, he was going to kiss you. Maybe.

But why did that hurt more than it made you happy?

“You ready?” He asked when you left the bathroom. With a nod of affirmation, he stood up, opening the door for you.

You didn’t even want to breathe, thinking that every exhale would be loud enough to be heard throughout the manor, your steps were cautious, deliberate, and slow. Meanwhile, Jason was already waiting for you at the end of the corridor, his steps made no sound, his training so ingrained in his mind and body it was second nature to move like a shadow, even if he wasn’t doing it on purpose. It was impressive, honestly.

“Slowpoke.” He whispered when you were in his reach.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t take bat-training when I was twelve, they didn’t offer it at my school.”

Jason chuckled. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”

Late for what, you wondered? If anything, you would be too early for everything.

It got easier to walk the farther you got from all the rooms, getting out of the manor through a sliding door that led to the garden, from there walking like normal to the driveway.

“Now what?” You asked, there was no way this wouldn’t wake them up, as you knew how loud the fence mechanism was. Jason said nothing, instead walking towards you and placing a hand on your waist.

“Don’t scream.”

“Huh?”

Before you could react, he pulled a grappling gun from his pocket, pointing it to a sturdy tree branch and firing it in less than a second. Your feet left the ground, going higher and higher, feeling the strength of gravity trying to pull you down, only succeeding once you were over the fence and falling to the other side.

“I’m honestly impressed, most people scream their first time.” You didn’t tell him it was because you were too stunned to react. But you would admit it was an amazing experience. “Come.”

He gestured for you to follow him. The darkness brought in your terrible memories, walking as close as you could to Jason, not wanting the shadows to consume you. Of course, the proximity meant your hands would graze each other with every step, the feeling grounding you and not letting your fears to overwhelm you.

Besides endless rows of trees spaced out so evenly they didn’t look real, there wasn’t much else around. The moonlight shone above the grass; the light being reflected by the morning dew.

You wanted to know so badly what was going on inside his head, daring only once to cast a rapid glance at him, his face calm, eyes focused on the road ahead, as if searching for something. You wanted to know what holding his hand again would be like, without the lingering fear and anxiety of waking up from a Fear Gas induced nightmare.

After the umpteenth time your knuckles brushed against his, you finally took hold of his pinky finger with yours, waiting with bated breath to see his reaction. You felt your lips shyly curve into a smile when he intertwined his fingers with yours, his grip strong enough to make you feel safe and secure, as though nothing could ever take you away from him.

“I—Uh.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry ‘bout the walk, had to make sure no one would hear my bike.”

“No, it’s alright. This is nice. Peaceful.”

It didn’t take long until you could see the form of a bike partially hidden in the bushes off road. There wasn’t any kind of modifications or enhancements you could see, it was your simply, standard sport motorcycle you could buy anywhere, two helmets dangling from one of the handles.

Jason, sadly, let go of your hand, your body already missing the warmth. He grabbed one of the helmets, and you hand your hand outstretched, waiting for him to hand it to you, yet he kept getting closer until you could feel his body heat.

“Sorry, I’ll have to…” He removed the hair claw, letting your hair loosely fall. It seemed he was going to say something else when he noticed the shape of the claw, releasing a deep chuckle. “This is cute.” He closed the teeth around the base of the hood, continuing with putting the helmet on your head, fumbling with the strap to get it to latch —and his wandering touches on your chin did not go unnoticed. He pulled up the visor once he was done, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “Is it tight?”

You blinked once, not believing what he just said. Out of nowhere. So bold. “Sorry?”

“The helmet, I’m not sure if I tied it too tight.”

You should get your head out of the gutter. “Oh.” Your cheeks were red, surely because of the cold. “No, it’s perfect.”

“Great.” He turned around to grab his helmet, and while he had his back to you, you let yourself have a bit of a meltdown in silence, placing your hands over your head, feeling plastic instead of your hair which you wanted to pull.

He was just getting on the bike by the time you were done, and you gingerly did the same, your arms rounding up his torso. Even with his layers of clothes, you could still feel how sturdy it was. After he made sure your visor was down once again, he turned on the ignition, swiftly gaining speed.

Rows of trees soon gave way to the outlines of the city, its tall skyscrapers blending with the dark night. Since Bristol was situated on a hill, you were able to see most of the city’s districts, a specific area to your right with so many lights on it seemed as if it was just the afternoon and not early morning.

“That’s Old Gotham.” Jason seemed to read your mind. “It’s kinda like Gotham’s own Vegas; casinos, strip clubs, night clubs, motels… Anything you could imagine opened late at night, it’s there.”

You grimaced at the thought of having a first date in a dingy, smelly casino, highly opposed to what you would’ve preferred. However, you never got close, the lights in fact getting further away.

After several minutes, he finally pulled over in a parking lot beneath what you assumed were apartments, taking the helmet from you, holding one on his hand and the other under his arm. He began walking, yet you took that chance to use the bike’s mirrors to try and comb your hair with your fingers —frozen fingers, mind you. Angling yourself in the perfect spot for the fluorescent lights to illuminate you fully. “You coming?”

He chuckled. This time, Jason didn’t hesitate on holding your hand.

“So, where are we?” You asked while waiting for the elevator to come down. He looked at you sideways, with that damned grin you loved so much, his hair all over the place as he didn’t bother to fix it, yet he still looked great, probably even better.

“Just a special place.”

The ‘ding’ announcing the elevator’s arrival echoed through the mostly empty parking lot, pressing the highest button to go all the way to the roof. During the whole time, he never let go of your hand, his thumb caressing yours and his hold tightening for a moment as if to prove you were still there.

Feeling boldened by his actions, you let your head rest on his shoulder, your eyes focused on the led screen displaying the floor you were in, twenty two, so far, the number going higher and higher seemingly without a want to stop.

“So, this is where the mighty Hood comes to rest?”

“Kinda, yeah.” He chuckled, but you noticed it wasn’t exactly a humorous laugh, rather a nervous one. You let your eyes wander around; there was a small camera on one of the corners behind you, but it didn’t look anything sophisticated, just a regular surveillance camera that most likely still recorded in black and white, without audio, but just on the off chance that you were wrong, you would leave the vigilante life topics for another day, in a safer place. Glancing down to your joined hands, a beaming smile made its appearance yet another time tonight, balancing yourself on the soles of your shoes. “Someone’s excited.”

“Well, I need to be moving or else I’ll fall asleep. You know, because it’s five in the freaking morning.”

“We’re almost there… Ah, close your eyes.”

“Why?”

But instead of replying, he let go of your hand, getting behind you and covering your eyes with his hands. You didn’t even get the chance to see in which floor you’d ended before the ding of the elevator was heard, the doors opening and welcoming the strong, freezing wind biting at your uncovered skin. So, you’re outside once again.

Jason was calmly guiding you, and even though you knew he wouldn’t walk you to the edge of the floor, your steps were still shaky, arms and hands outstretched in front of you as to not collide with anything. “Can’t you just—”

“You can open them, now.” His hands fell from your face to your shoulders, and a breath escaped you from what’s in front of you.

On a raised platform there was a small, rectangular patch of grass with beautiful red roses and bushes around, a fluffly red and white blanket with a woven basket keeping it on the ground, fake candles illuminating the still dark sky.

When you turned around to look at Jason, to see anything in him to let you know this was indeed meat for you, he still had another surprise in his hands. “Flowers, in my opinion, are a must. But since you said no flowers, well...” He handed you a chocolate bouquet with peonies and tulips made with chocolate. “I’m sorry it took me so long, but I wanted to find the perfect rooftop and… Was it too much?”

He panicked when tears began prickling your eyes, his hands holding your shoulders to comfort you. You wanted to talk, to answer it wasn’t too much that it was perfect, to say something. But your emotions got the best of you. It brought up all your past pains and experiences, all your heartbreaks and disappointments.

It brought up that perfect remainder that you could very well go back to your earth tomorrow, and you would never be able to talk to them.

Through the tears, now free falling, you looked up, his face full of worry, and confusion, and embarrassment, and unease. You placed your hands on his jaw, face not even twitching at your cold fingers. “Thank you.” You whispered. He, in turn, smiled, kissing your forehead.

“Come, you won’t want to miss this.”

You nodded, using the back of your hands to rid you of the tears, letting Jason guide you once again and sitting down next to him on the warm blanket, just in time to see the golden rays of sunshine shine on the city.

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headfarintheclouds · 3 months

Text

The Deal (Iso x Reader) Chapter 1

I tried dto post that 3 times from my PC but Tumblr crashed... so I'm posting it from my phone. I hope you guys like it !

Words count : 1400k

TW: none

"Fuck this I'm done!" yelling in anger I threw the gun to the ground, if Brimstone or Sova saw me right now I would probably get a scolding of a lifetime, but they weren't here with me. Only Gekko and his crew.

"Hey, calm down Y/n ! I'm sure you get it next try." the green haired Latino raised his hands, trying to stop me from exiting the practice range. I threw a nasty glare his way, making Trash growl at me in warning. "Hey, no that's not very nice!" he quickly scolded the creature making it roll its eyes at him.

I huffed and turned my head to the target I was practicing on. A ray of bullet holes behind it, only five or four on it. If being bad at shooting was a sport, then I was the champion of it.

"I'm sorry Mateo but I've been practicing for months now. I can't seem to land a single shot. If it's gonna be like that then I might as well quit while I'm ahead." I told him with a sad smile. His brow eyes widened in surprise upon hearing me say that, before I knew it, he was standing before me with a deep frown on his youthful face.

"Hey no, don't think like that. Not everyone is good at everything, chicka. Sometime those things take time." sending me a small smile he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it in silent support.

"It's been six months through, what if I'm not made for this?" I looked up at my best friend, desperation clear in my voice.

"Nobody was made for this, but everyone made it work in the end. You'll get there soon enough." he nodded his head, firmly believing in his own words.

I sighed. Yeah, I was invited to Valorant by Brimstone himself, but back then none of us knew I would be an absolute shit at shooting. All he saw was a silent Radiant, with control over sounds who was amazingly good at sneaking and getting information. It was what he needed, he told me back then. But then assured me he wouldn't send me anywhere until I finished my training. Ever since then I have been on the base spending my time in the shooting range alongside Gekko and Neon, who quickly became my best friend among the Agents. Guess I got one good thing out of that whole shit show.

"I'll talk to Brimstone." I said, already making up my mind. Wingman who was standing in-between us, put his tiny limp on my leg and let out a series of sad chirps making my heart clench in pain. Gosh I was going to miss this adorable guy. Neon and Gekko too, heck even Yoru who was a pain in the ass from day one.

"Y/n please, think about this." Gekko begged, his eyes glossy from the unshed tears. I chuckled halfheartedly at my friend and put a hand over the one he still had on my shoulder.

"I have."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

After my talk with Brimstone I made my way to my room and started to pack up my things. The older man wasn't pleased with my decision and tried to persevere me to stay, heck he even involved Sage in it knowing how much respect I held for the women. But I wasn't about to drag everyone down with my poor skills. They had Omen, Sova and Cypher to gather all the information they needed.

A knock on my door stopped me in my tracks. Narrowing my brows I sighed and decided to ignore it in favor of putting my things in my duffle bag. Another knock, this time a louder and more aggressive one.

"I don't want to talk, leave me alone Gekko!" I yelled hoping it would be enough. After all who else would it be? Neon didn't know about me leaving yet, and both Sage and Brimstone respected my choices enough to leave me alone for now.

"It's not Gekko." my eyes widened in surprise upon hearing the deep voice of Iso.

The Chinese hit man quickly became my favorite person around HQ, even if we didn't spend nearly enough time together, I still found myself harboring a crush on him. What was he doing outside my door?

I walked over to it and punched in the code to open them, coming face to chest with the handsome man. My eyes widened upon seeing the intensity in his lilac-colored orbs. They seemed to be glowing.

"I heard you were leaving." he stated, no greetings or how are you's. Just straight to the point.

"I.. I am yes." stuttering I gasped when he pushed me in the room and closed the door behind him.

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?" I blinked in confusion.

"Why are you leaving? Give me a one good reason." he wasn't making any sense to me. Why was he suddenly so interested in me leaving the place? We spoke maybe a total of five times during my stay here. But I had to admit, it did make my heart do summer sluts inside my ribcage. Did he care?

"I suck at shooting, that's why." I stated simply, observing his face for any kind of reaction. All I got was him clenching his jaw and mumbling something in Chinese.

"Is that all?" he asked, making me narrow my own eyes at him.

"Excuse me?"

"That is not a valid reason to leave." he said in anger, taking a step closer. I never realized how big he was until now, holy shit! And he was mad at me to! (For some reason) Was this the way I was going to die?

"What's it to you?' I challenged him with a hiss.

"You. Me. Shooting Range tomorrow at noon. I will train you personally from now on." I could myself going pale. He wanted to train me? Personally? Yes please, but also no fucking way. I wasn't about to make a fool out of myself in front of my crush.

"No way. I'm leaving first thing in the morning." shaking my head I missed the moment he got closer, until I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. It smelled faintly of cinnamon.

"I am not asking you, I'm telling you Tián tián." he leaned his head even closer, so close in fact I could make specks of dark purple in his eyes. "Listen to me. Let's make a deal. If you stay, I will make it so you'll be one of the best shooters in the entire team. Give me three months." I blinked at the sudden change of attitude. He was very confident in what he was saying that much I could tell.

"And if I don't become the best shooter?" I whispered, too scared to speak any louder than that. He was still very close to me, so when he smirked upon hearing my Question I about fainted then and there.

"Then I will let you go."

"You will let me go? Aren't you getting ahead of yourself, big guy?"

"Let me put it this way. If at any point of the three months you'll run away, I will personally hunt you down and drag you back. Do you understand?"

Okay, what the fuck was going on right now? Where was the sweet and shy guy who stuck to the side lines and didn't interact with others? Was he swapped during one of the missions? Did he hit his head or something? I blinked up at the older male, trying to understand what was being said to me.

"Okay. But what if you win the bet? What do you want in return?" I asked, my voice curious to hear his reason.

"You'll see." he stood up straight, putting more distance between us and making my heart calm down a bit. "I'll see you tomorrow." he winked and left both my room and me in a state of ruin.

#iso x reader #Iso #valorant

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recreationalfanfics · 1 year

Note

Okay okay so a few years back when I was very much into the NATM fandom (almost embarrassingly so), I was obsessed with Al Capone.

Imagine Al Capone meeting the fish mafia and either loving their whole vibe (especially the lounge) or not trusting them one bit and just pulling Daley!Yuu (a.k.a his pseudo-child, much to Larry's annoyance) to the side like 'I'd be careful o' these fellas - they seem like trouble'

(Cut to Larry like - You and your gang tried to teach them tax evasion last week!)

No but he would meet Deuce and would it would be like instant respect because one gangster recognises another (even though Deuce is trying to reform)

Imagine if he and Vargas had shooting competitions

Valid, Jon Bernthal as Al Capone was too powerful, he is a beautiful man♡

- YEAH, NO, UNCLE AL SOMEHOW APPEARING IN RAMSHACKLE (maybe various NATM characters appear in your room, so like one day it's Rexy, the other its Teddy, and so on and so forth) and maybe Battle At the Smithsonian happened when you were pretty small and Al and his Crew had to hold you hostage but ended up adoring you instead.

- Essentially, Al and the boys are confused but SO HAPPY WHEN THEY SEE YOU AGAIN. You walk downstairs to Ramshackle and see them standing in your living room only to lighten up when they see you♡

- They attend the school as if they're your bodyguards, like Ace and Deuce getting scared when these random monochrome men grab them and demand who they are but once you tell them that they're your friends, they're letting them go and fixing up their uniforms.

- Right off the bat, Al prefers Deuce more than Ace. This is shown when he tells Ace: "See, if you were alive in my time, that obnoxious mouth of yours would be filled with lead." and then he moves onto Deuce and he's all: "But this kid here has a look to 'im. There might be a place for you-"/ "ALPHONSE, NO."/ "What's with the government name, kiddo? M'just saying!"

- While he does find some elements of Twisted Wonderland odd and different, he absolutely knows mafia when he sees it and he immediately clocks the Tweels. Like, he walks into class with you and he's all: "Oh, those two are definetly mafia or whatever they got here in Disneyville." and the Tweels instantly look at him which only seems to confirm what he said.

"Prefect~ Whose this? Another friend from your world?"

"Haha, hope he can swim, Shrimpy!~"

- Al isn't very intimidated by these two and once you explain who he is, or, well, who he represents, then the Tweels are much more calm. They're not gonna outright tell you they're mafia but you hate how well they get along with Al after you told him who he was.

- NOW, Al might play wingman here. If you've got your eyes set on someone, good! His boys will either intimidate or black mail them into asking you out or, if Al decides he doesn't want to scold them, he'll be nice and try to gently nudge them in your direction (aka, just tell them that you like them and to shoot their shot).

- If you DON'T have someone you like, he might push you in the direction of Deuce, Floyd, or Jade.

- Preferably Deuce. He's got a good heart and a fair amount of muscle to protect you and from what he's heard, and he seems to want to keep you safe. A nice kid whose got a good head on his shoulders.

- However the reason why he considers Jade/Floyd is only if YOU like one of them and make the mistake of telling him or he finds out. First of all, he teases you about it and is all: "Wanna follow in your old man's footsteps, eh?" and you roll your eyes and Larry doesn't know why but his dad sense is tingling.

- But seriously, he will most definetly support it since you're very capable of handling yourself, he's seen you grow up into the troublemaking teenager you are but he also knows you have a tendency to land yourself in danger so he'd feel at ease if someone like Jade or Floyd had your back.

- But also, watch him be all: "But just so you know, there might be mistresses in the picture. If they're decent guys, obviously they won't have any but just keep an eye out and keep that in mind-"

- Jade and Floyd just being offended when he puts that idea into your head and assuring you that none of that will be happening-

#twisted night at the museum au #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #Twisted Wonderland x reader

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half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk · 7 months

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Louk's Bad Batch rewatch part 15 !!! AND part 16 !!!

TWO IN ONE WHAT these eps are kinda short ?? or my thoughts are idk ?? so I put them both together on one post 😬 but anyway let's go batcherssss 🤟

The Bad Batch 1x11

Crosshair you little gremlin 💕

ELENI AND HOWZER 🥺😭🥰👑

can someone please explain to me why Orn Free Taa has extra lekku, weird tiny ears and three fingers instead of four ??? mans looks like a different species 👀

"They fought for us and they have earned our respect" settle down Cham we all know you're gonna change your mind in 5 minutes hush

HERA AND CHOPPER MY BELOVEDS 💕💕💕

"uncle Gobi" 🥺

Hera watching the birds in the sky 🤲 following them with her hands 🥺

Howzer you absolute king 👑

Eleni and Gobi scheming together hehehe

I just know Eleni is SO proud of Hera 🥲 she's so much like her mom fr

"my hope is that you won't ever have to live a life like mine" ~ General Cham Syndulla ... meet General Hera Syndulla

"no take offs or landings" this is actually so adorable tho

Wrecker carrying all the weapons himself like he's only doing one trip with the groceries from the car to the house hehehe

Hera asks about the Marauder and Omega's like 'this beauty' *pat pat*

I wanna see Hunter's face watching Hera and Omega together 🥺

they're besties forever 💕

it's Hera's dream to live on a starship 😭

lmao could've had a bad batch reunion rn but Crosshair had other plans

Omega: ☝"did you know flying is about a feeling?" Tech: I have no idea what this means

Howzer being the only one to question imprisoning a child 😭

Eleni didn't even wait for the speeder to stop moving before jumping out 💅

"attempted assassination of Orn Free Taa" ??? attempted ?? did he not just die ???

The Bad Batch 1x12

"how unfortunate for your people to see your fall" LMAO Rampart I've seen s2 👀

Howzer immediately plotting to save Hera 💕

Hera and Chopper are absolute menaces and I respect them both for it

Gonky being part of the bad batch family 🤲

"you gave her our comm channel?" ~ Hunter is so done pls 😂

Tech: "children often overreact" Omega: "no we don't" YES OMEGA 🙌👑 she is so passionate and caring and loving and loyal I genuinely feel so proud of her 💕

Omega: "isn't that what soldiers do" Hunter: 😯

Wrecker @ Chopper: "what's his problem" how long do you have buddy?

Hera asking them all so desperately to save her family 😭😭😭 she has always cared so deeply

y'all I'm confused did Orn Free Taa actually survive that shot to the head? I feel like Rampart has no reason to lie about it?

they all peeking with their binoculars

Hunter's little 'let's move' gesture 🥰

Hunter hearing the droid and his sneak attack just dropping down on it 👌 bro how did you get up there so fast ??

knife knife knife knife knife knife knife kni-

Tech: "oh good" lolol

Wrecker's face when Hunter says Crosshair knows they're there 😭

Omega grabbing Hera's hand 🤲

Echo's face explaining to Hera why they're after Cham 😭😭

"I don't care about any of that, I just want my parents back" she's just a little kid in the middle of a war she doesn't understand 💔 this is too real and absolutely heartbreaking

"She's trying to save her family Hunter. I'd do the same for you" you tell him Omega 💪👑

Howzer and Crosshair staring at each other.....

Chopper and Hera having a lil chat 🥺

Omega: "he's my brother, they all are" Hera: "you're lucky" she really is 🥺

Howzer is trying so hard to protect Hera even with Cham hating on him and refusing to help save his own daughter 🙃

Omega and Hera came up with a strategic plan and now Hunter's on board 🥰

Tech is worried about them going by themselves 🥲

Echo getting caught scaling the wall: "a little help?" lmaooo

AND Hunter's little "hey" to distract the reg before pulling Echo up 💀

"I won't tell if you wont" lmao I love these two together 💕

Omega: "don't shoot down our shuttle" Tech: "wait what shuttle?!" ~ how many heart attacks does Omega want to give Tech this episode 😂

Hera blowing up an imperial refinery........ 👀

Tech: 'Omega what was that explosion?!?! Omega: hehe don't worry about it 💀

Omega: "do some damage Wrecker" Wrecker: "that I can do!" Wrecker happy makes me happy 🥰

THE TECH TURN THE TECH TURN THR TECH TURN THE RECH TUENCJDIWJXNW

Hunter telling Cham and Gobi that Hera hired them 💀

Hera: "we're getting the hang of this" Tech: "yes your dangerous and uncontrolled manoeuvring is as confusing to them as it is to us 🙂" he is so far past done with them oml 😂

Howzer 💕💕💕💕💕💕

Hunter looking back at him before they leave 😭

Howzer's whole speech in this scene 😭😭😭 it reminds me of Fives giving his pep talk to the cadets 🥲

Hunter sensing Crosshair??? and what if I never stop crying ??

my heart is breaking for Howzer I love him so bad 💔

Wrecker Omega high five 🥺

Tech teaching Hera and Omega 🤲💕

"Tech showed me how to scramble a ships signature" TECH TAUGHT HERA ONE SKILL THAT SAVED HER ASS A MILLION TIMES 😭

"keep an eye on your brothers, they need it" ~ Hera, the wisest person in the show fr

...did Chopper just say "Chopper out"

Crosshair has too many expressions to count this last scene, asking to hunt the batch down... my theory is he never had his chip removed but that venator engine fried it and it slowly stops working... we know that a lot of the chips are slowly starting to stop working in other clones, maybe its the same for Crosshair ?? so he's feeling a lot of confusion at hunting them down ?? maybe idk lol

two more down!!! my internet is still shocking and it's taking me like an hour to watch each ep bc of all the buffering 🥲 but anywayyy thank yalls for joining 💕💕💕

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blackjackkent · 6 months

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OK, for realsies this time (maybe?), a few more explorational highlights from the grove area, and then we're off in the direction of the goblin camp, because Rakha craves goblin blood and answers and it seems the most likely place to get both. (After not being able to hurt Mizora, Sceleritas, OR Raphael, she's feeling very pent up and not in the fun way.)

Rescued Mirkon from the harpies on the beach! We didn't do this with Hector last time. In this case, I suspect it was definitely Wyll who originally encouraged Rakha to go down and see if the kid was okay. ("Your favorite drownings all take place in shallow water," the Narrator helpfully informs us. "Just a slice of the ankle tendons...") She also got completely hypnotized by the harpies as well, because it occurred to me that (to her recollection) she has never heard music of any kind before, let alone music that beautiful - and not only that, but it quieted the Urge. Lae'zel (I assume) snaps her out of it. And once Rakha figures out what's going on and that something else was taking control of the inside of her head, she got MAD. This fight didn't go particularly well for anyone except Lae'zel, who rocked an absolutely brutal crit on one of the harpies, but Rakha got to expend some frustration on all of them with some applications of Burning Hands, which made her feel overall a little calmer. We got a Folk Hero inspiration for Wyll for helping the kid out. Gale was also pleased, although I think Rakha cares about that somewhat less.

Hit level 3! Rakha now has more spell slots and can (with sorcery points) cast an action spell as a bonus action. More fire!

Chatted with Volo. Rakha, after her recent interactions with Sceleritas and Raphael, absolutely got jumpscared by him greeting her as "my good friend!" until she realizes Volo is just Like That. She's also utterly baffled when he asks her for information on the goblin battle and then deliberately writes down falsehoods instead. ("A mythweaver," Lae'zel says disdainfully. "This man has no respect for truth.") He does confirm what she's picked up about the presence of the Absolute cult, though - and indicates that the goblins are also part of it, although it's hard to tell whether she should believe him.

Stopped down to see Mol since Mirkon said we should. It was not a particularly exciting conversation, but contact has been made which will be relevant later. Rakha definitely looks at the kids differently than she does the adults in the area, mostly because of Wyll's influence and his story of how he became the Blade of Frontiers.

Checked in with the two tiefling guards in the back corner room, one of whom is threatening to shoot a caged goblin prisoner in revenge for her dead brother. Unsurprisingly, Rakha did nothing to stop this. ("Your mind wanders," points out the Narrator, in the soft, cold drawl she uses for the Dark Urge's specific thoughts. "If the crossbow bolt shot through her mouth, would she taste the metal before she died?") Stand back and admire the guard's overflowing hate. She waits and watches while the guard's crossbow bolt slams directly between the prisoner's eyes. Interestingly - Wyll approved of her choice.

Interacting with the squirrel above the main grove was uh. Sure something.

Narrator: This squirrel might be the single most adorable creature you can recall in all your stunted memory! It would be ever so twee if it were climbing a tree.

And then Rakha got this weird grin on her face and hauled off with a kick; there was an explosion of blood and the squirrel's dead body landed in the upper branches of the tree nearby.

"Terrific," says Lae'zel (presumably while Gale and Wyll look on in complete horror). "If I'm ever harangued by a rodent, I know who to call for."

Narrator: You stare at the body before you. You have no idea what just happened.

Rakha feels the beast in her head settle, its recent frustration soothed by this spilling of an innocent creature's blood. She remembers the deep, crunching impact of her boot and a deep shiver rolls through her whole body.

"My body moved without my command," she mutters hoarsely. "I couldn't control it."

The others don't respond. What is there to say?

Narrator: The swirling bile cauldron of your brain is cooking up a poison stew - served and seasoned by that venomous butler.

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #well that escalated quickly and upsettingly at the end there o.o;#i feel like that's going to be a regular durge experience

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monin1ca · 2 years

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Hey bbg, hope youre having a wonderful day~

Could I kindly request a ff with a new radiant agent reader ( arrived like 2 days ago ) x Yoru, where reader has like giant feather wings ( color of your choice ) and they beat the robot that kj and raze made from "warm up" alone, and says that it was easy? In an innocent way, not cocky, reader isnt yoru. And how he reacts?

THANKS FOR FEEDING MY CRAVINGS DARLING

Word count: 705

Warnings: nothing much, violence, cursing, hot reader

Synopsis: “That was supposed to be the hardest level?...”

“Alrighty, agents,” The commander begins, his gruff voice booming through the room. Catching the attention of the others, the whispers die down, “Allow me to introduce Agent Y/N.” At his words, you strut beside him. Your white fluttering wings follow you behind, “Hey, everyone. I’m agent 22, Y/N. Code name: Haste.” You say calmly; everyone else welcomes you and introduces themselves. A blue-haired man beckoned for you to sit beside him; you shrugged and followed obediently. “I’m Yoru.” “Y/N.” “I know.” The man replies; Brimstone begins the briefing and sets some orders in place. Unbeknownst to you, Yoru rubs his hands on your wings. You squealed in surprise; your wings are a tiny bit sensitive when you are not paying attention to them. Everyone’s attention goes to you, stunned at the sudden interruption. You look at Yoru, flustered, “Fuck you, man.”

After the meeting, the older agents surrounded you, asking many questions about your wings and how they work. “Kids- Don’t bother Haste, yeah?” Brimstone groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt annoyed for you; the overlapping voices gave him an eternal headache. The Killjoy squeaked out, “Why dont we have our newest agent try out the Max bot?” The party concords and everyone is excited about what you can offer the team. You stand up, stretching your body and wings. “Right, let’s begin.”

Raze gives you a run down on what happened when they tried fighting it last time but says you might have an advantage since the bot has no info on your fighting style. You hum, not too worried about this bot. ‘It’s just a piece of metal bunched up together with an A.I. mind’ You thought you arrived at the training grounds. Everyone placed their respective bets on you, some laughed, and some had faith in you. Though- you felt Yoru’s on you. “I’m betting on you birdie!” He chimes through the room. You simply couldn’t let your believers down.

You run into the area, and the max bot is already shooting bullets. You flapped your wings, giving you a boost to take cover. Exhaling sharply, you run onto the walls, spiderman style. Murmurs wash over the observer’s room, ‘Did Haste’s wings just turn black?’ “Release!” You hissed; at your command, your feathers detached from your body and aimed for the bot. Not anticipating your move, the bot was struck by most of your feathers. You smirked, but now to the next problem… You were falling to the ground; panicked screams came from the room behind you, warning about the dangers. The max bot charges up blue energy rays, ready to fire at you. “Restore.” All the feathers that were previously pierced retracted and pulled the bot forward. Once all the feathers returned to you, you stretched it. Preventing a harsh landing. Aiming your gun, you shot three bullets, finishing the bot off. Exhaling softly, your wings return to white.

“That was supposed to be the hardest level?...”

Everyone was shocked; what did you say????

All the agents who rooted for you cheered in excitement, and the others? Not so happy. They begrudgingly gave up their credits to the winners. You walk back to the lounge, “What a show you put on. Not bad, newbie.” Yoru claps slowly, his smug smirk sparkling through his face. Though his face was cocky about winning, deep down, he was fanboying. You looked so cool; he’s seen the whole team struggle fighting that thing, and the way you killed it? Shit. He just wanted to be cradled in your beautiful soft wings. “You should be thankful I made you win, mister.” “Yeah yeah.” He dismisses you casually, “You didn’t have to be so cocky, ‘That was supposed to be the hardest level?’” “But- I was serious! I didn’t even have to use my full abilities!” The rift walker scoffed, “Is that so? Well- I challenge you to a 1v1.” “I’m sure I can take ya big guy.”

Author’s Note: HEY BABES, SORRY FOR THE SHORT HIATUS… IT'S THE HOLIDAYS AND ALL THAT STUFF, BUT IM BACK ON TRACK. ANYWAYS, this took too long to do. Happy new year's n merry Christmas to all my lovely ppl <333

#valorant #valorant imagines #valorant headcanons #valorant x reader #valorant x y/n #valorant x you #yoru x reader #valorant yoru #yoru valorant #ryo kiritani #yoru x y/n #valorant brim #valorant brimstone #valorant kj #valorant killjoy #valorant raze

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 11 months

Text

Normal: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Summary: Another lunch with your parents reveals something that’s been locked in your head, but your dad makes you confused and jumbles up the truth. It’s hard enough to focus on a case with a deranged man killing people on the road, you don’t need family drama on top of it.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin to slit throats." - H.L. Mencken

Hotch requested everyone to meet at the plane instead of in the briefing room like normal. You're running a bit late since your go-bag wasn't properly prepared, but luckily, you had some time to waste. You get out of your car when your phone rings, telling you that you have a message.

You take your phone out to read the message your father sent you.

Can we meet up again? Are you going to be near us?

I'll be in Orange County. Any chance you can come down to me?

I have some business in town. I'll let you know when we can meet up. I'd prefer it if it were just you.

Sure.

You don't want to tell Spencer you're doing this because that would only upset him further. You'll tell him you're going out to lunch and would be right back. You enter the plane and see everyone is already there.

"Sorry, I had a bit of a delay."

You put your bag in the compartments where everyone else's bags are and join Spencer's side who saved you a seat. As soon as you're settled in, the pilot starts to take off. When you're at cruising altitude, Jordan begins the briefing.

"Ten days ago in Orange County, California, Judy Hannity who is a real estate broker, and a mother was injured by a shotgun on the 91 freeway."

"Did she survive this?"

"Barely. She's paralyzed from the waist down. The second and third victims were both DOA. There were different vehicles for each shooting. A small black SUV, a black sedan, and a white sedan with no makes and no plates."

"Any reliable witnesses?"

"The first victim described the shooter as a normal, middle-aged white guy in an SUV."

"She gave that description but she couldn't remember anything else?" Hotch asks.

"Isn't that consistent with trauma?" Jordan asks.

"No, actually. Trauma victims either remember everything or nothing," you state. "I'm confused, though. The third victim was shot last week and we just got the phone call now?"

"Until the third shooting, the locals weren't convinced it was a serial shooter. There were different cars, and in the first shooting there was a different weapon."

"It's the same weapon," Rossi corrects Jordan. "The shot pattern on the second and third one may be wider, but he sawed off the shotgun. It's the same shooter. He's evolving quickly."

"The media has already dubbed him the Road Warrior."

"That explains why they wanted us there so quickly. This type of unsub is the hardest to catch. His victims are impersonal to him. One-third of the time, he flees with his vehicle, another third is that the victim's cars are a wreck, and the last third is the road that's contaminated by all the other cars that drive over it."

"How do we get him?" Jordan asks.

"We build a solid profile. We release it to the public with an appeal for help. Somebody knows this guy."

When the plane lands in Orange County, you're taken to the sheriff's station that is housing all the victim's cars. The detective on the case is eagerly waiting for your arrival, and when she sees you, she immediately heads over. The victim's cars are to your right, and you have to take a deep breath to prevent yourself from being overwhelmed.

"Thea Salinas, sheriff's county homicide. I'm running the task force."

"I'm Special Agent Jordan Todd, and they are Special Agents Rossi, Hotchner, Prentiss, Morgan, Y/N, and he's Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Are these the vehicles from the shootings?" you ask.

"Yes."

"Did you set up a hotline?" Jordan wonders.

"Like you asked. We have the local stations putting the number out there. We're getting about a dozen calls an hour."

"I'll alert the media to stand by for our press conference. Excuse me."

Jordan leaves the group as Hotch, Derek, and Spencer walk over to the cars to inspect them.

"The sheriff's department and the CHP are on tac alert. We've got choppers on round-the-clock freeway patrol. The victims' vehicles come with maps, CSPs, and bullet points. Everything we got on the case is in this room."

"Anything solid on the tip line?"

"The usual nutjobs, crime buffs, and bored senior citizens. Orange County has an endless supply of three things--freeways, news coverage, and blond female luxury car owners."

"Are people pretty scared?" Emily asks.

"I could ask for a submarine and get it."

You leave Rossi and Emily's side and head over to the crashed cars. You grab and slip on some gloves so you can touch the evidence. You always get a better reading when you can touch things unless the energy is strong enough for you to paint a picture with. The crashes happened too long for that to happen, so touching the cars is the next best thing.

"What can you see?" Hotch asks you.

"Give me a minute."

You run your hands over the sharp metal carefully, and you close your eyes to focus on the energy the cars still have. Yes, the crashes happened a while ago, but there will always be energy left on them no matter what. It fades over time, but it never really leaves.

The first car is the most special since it's the first in a spree, so you might get something from it more than the others. The victims' pictures are posted on a bulletin board, so you can see the first victim in her car driving down the road. There is a car speeding toward her on her left, and when she looks over, the unsub has a shotgun in his hands. He shoots her, and the car runs into a concrete median and flips in the air, landing on the top of the car.

He's a white man, and based on the fact that you can't see his face, you know he's the unsub.

"I see her on the freeway," you tell Hotch, "and she's talking on the phone. The unsub comes speeding toward her on the left. He shoots her closed driver's window and she hits a concrete median. Her car flips and it lands on the top of the car. He drives off like nothing happened. I can only see his skin color. He's Caucasian. If another accident happens, or if I can talk to Judy, I might get more off our unsub. The first one is usually important. It's the first time he started killing, though, he never killed her."

"Good job," Hotch praises. "The first MO in the first shooting differs dramatically from the other two. The first one is in daylight on a crowded freeway."

"That's dozens of potential witnesses. It's high-risk. He got lucky."

"Well, then, he's a fast study. He sawed off his shotgun and lowered his risk by switching to nights and changing vehicles."

"What if he wasn't planning on murder the first time?" you say. "We know what he's capable of when he plans ahead, so if he's not planning to commit a crime, it makes sense for him to drive his own vehicle."

"Then why did he have a gun in the SUV if he wasn't planning to commit murder? What happened to make him pull that first trigger?" Derek asks.

"As I said," you turn to Hotch, "I need to talk to Judy."

Hotch decides in order to keep Judy from feeling overwhelmed, only he and you are going to interview her. She is still in the ICU at the local hospital, and when you get there, you see her son in the room with her.

"Ms. Hannity, I'm agent Aaron Hotchner. This is agent Y/N. We're from the FBI."

"She already told the police everything she can remember," her son quickly comes to her defense.

"Rick... it's okay," Just whispers. Hotch takes Rick outside so you can be alone with Judy. When they're gone, you take a seat next to her bed and give her a warm smile. "It's just the two of us. He feels like it's his job to protect me."

"It's good that you two have each other. I understand you spoke with the police, but I'd like to go back to the shooting if you can."

"I don't remember much. It comes back in pieces."

This is where you come in.

"May I hold your hand?"

"Why?"

"I'm a psychic. I can help you recover lost memories if you are okay with it."

"Doesn't hurt to try, I guess."

Since she is paralyzed from the waist down, she can still move her arms to reach out for you. Instead of letting her waste her energy, you grab her hand gently in between both of yours. The trauma from the accident is still very high, so you use that to help paint a more accurate picture of who this unsub is.

"So, you were angry?" you ask with your eyes closed.

"More like impatient, I guess."

Judy comes up behind the unsub in his car, but you can't see the license plate number. It's blurred out because that's not what she was focusing on. It's not the most important thing in her mind at the time, so you won't be able to see it no matter how hard you try. She slams on her horn for him being too slow, and she eventually passes him in a huff of anger. She zooms past him and gets in front of him to show him how angry she is for him being too slow.

"You cut him off?" you ask.

"Yes."

"Was there anything else? Did he swear? Did he honk? Did he threaten you in any way?"

"He tried to speak to me."

The unsub pulls next to Judy's car on the right and tries to get her to roll down her window. From the corner of her eye, the unsub looks completely blurred out. When she faces him, most of him becomes clear for you to see. She was talking to someone on the phone, so she wasn't paying attention to any defining features, but her subconscious picked up a few things that you are able to see.

The unsub is an older white man with round glasses. He is balding on the top of his head, so whatever hair he has is in the back and on the sides, but it's not much. He's wearing a suit and tie like he works in an office building. You can't see his eyes or nose, but you've gotten a lot you can use for the profile.

Based on how he's dressed and how nervous and shy he is when he talks to Judy, you know the kind of man he is.

"What did he say?" you ask.

"He couldn't say anything. I wouldn't give him a chance." She says something to him that causes him to lash out in anger. You already know the result of his anger. You open your eyes and let go of her hand. "If he hadn't seemed so normal, I wouldn't have said anything. I usually don't even use my horn, because on the road... you never know."

"I'll ask your son to come back in."

You leave the room but hold the door open for Rick.

"Is she okay?"

"She will be with you by her side. She's lucky to have you." Rick goes back into his mom's room, and you shut the door behind him. "She made it personal. She got angry at him for driving too slowly. When he confronted her, she told him off and drove off."

"Did you see what he looks like?"

"He's an older white man. If I had to guess, I'd say he's in his mid-fifties. He's balding on the top of his head, and he wore a suit and tie. I think he works in an office building of some kind. He seemed nervous to talk to her like he was not confident in himself."

"Two for two," Hotch chuckles.

You two head back to the police station where the rest are talking to Thea.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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