#WEREWOLVES ARE SO COOOOLL

[annoyance-for-u]

LETS TALK ABOUT HOW, AT LEAST, THEY DID NOT LET HIS STREAK STOP ON DUOLINGO

Hope you are having a good day/night?

Could I request more of Jason Todd x Male werewolf boy? I was wondering what would happen if reader did get captured by those hunters? How will Jason take it? Jason never seen what these people do he's only heard about it? Specially how will it effect him if wolf boy decided to take the plunge and stay with Jay?

Hunted

——

Pairing: [Red Hood] Jason T. x [Werewolf] reader (Bruce is Ft.)

Pronouns: he/him

Fandom: DC

Quote: “Jokes on you, you snollygoster.”

Disclaimer: Please, take these warning’s into consideration. Angst. The reader is referred to and treated like a dog. Talks of animal abuse. Torture. Violence. Lots of violence. Graphic violence. Gubs. Killing. Kinda fast-paced? I couldn’t tell. A lot of cut-scene’s between what the reader is doing and what Jason is doing. Nail/fingertip biting. Anxiety. Reader never transforms (because I don’t know how to write that without sounding cringey) but it does talk about his abilities.

A/n: I know I kinda had a plot with the werewolf reader thing, and I said that the reader doesn’t live in Gotham, but for this plot’s sake, he does. This really helped me practice writing fighting scenes.

Master list

Word count: 4.7k

——

Y/N was peacefully living his life in Gotham city. Minding his business, sometimes crashing at Jason’s house. He lived his life like normal, and he enjoyed it. It was nice. A little too nice. He anticipated for something to happen. Something to just run him over with a fancy carriage with four horses, and ruin this flow he had going on with his life. Yes, he was expecting something — never in a million years did he expect this.

Y/N sat at his kitchen island, scrolling away on his phone. He shoved another scoop of cereal into his mouth. He didn’t get as much cereal as he’d like, but how the hell are you supposed to get a lot of cereal with a fork? He forgot to wash the dishes and this was all he had. At least he didn’t have to eat with a butter knife.

Y/N’s eye’s bolted to his front door when he heard aggressive knocking. He cursed; laying his phone next to the bowl. “Coming!” He shouted.

The knocking continued as he got up from his seat. “I said ‘I’m coming’.” He grumbled.

The knocking still did not cease even after his reassurance. “Keep banging like that and you’re gonna put a hole in my door!” He yelled, opening the door.

Three men stood there, sleeves rolled up, guns in hand. “Wrong house, Bad Boys 2.0. Bank’s down the street.” Y/N said.

The men didn’t budge. Y/N looked down at the guy’s wrist, seeing a small tattoo, looking at the others and seeing the same one. “Ah, shit..” He cursed. Y/N tried to slam the door shut, but all of them pushed their body weight to try and keep it open.

If he were human, he would have tumbled over, but lucky for him, he wasn’t. He ended up closing the door and locking it. Banging filled the room. “Open up, you stupid mutt!”

“No!” Y/N yelled back, slowly backing away from the door. His back hit the island.

He heard a loud gunshot, and saw the handle fall off. “Oh, fuck…” He cursed as the door was kicked open. “My door…” He sadly stared at his broken door.

All three of the men stormed into the room, the one who shot open the door, pointed his gun towards Y/N. Y/N’s hands shot up beside his head. “You got the wrong guy.”

“Are you Y/N L/N?” The main one asked. Another guy walked up next to him; patting the werewolf down.

“No.” He lied. The guy pulled out Y/N’s wallet. “Don’t look at that. I have my dick pics in it.”

The main guy nodded towards the one holding Y/N’s wallet. The crook immediately opened it, looking at Y/N’s license. “Shit..” The goon showed the ID to his boss.

He gave Y/N a, what he would call, you-fucking-liar look. “You’re not Y/N L/N?” He asked.

“If I say ‘no’, are you going to shoot me?” Y/N asked.

“I think we got the right person.” The guy said, ignoring Y/N’s comment. The man slowly approaches Y/N.

“I’m not what you think I am.” Y/N tried to reason.

“So you’re not a stupid mutt who can’t seem to stop yapping?” He pressed the muzzle of the gun against Y/N’s lip.

“I feel like you’re comparing me to-” Y/N was cut off by the gun pressing into him harder.

“Shut up.” Y/N nodded, looking down at the weapon.

The weapon vacated his mouth and slowly raised up, Y/N watched it, and realized he was about to get hit. Y/N grabbed the guy's wrist and slammed his head into him. The guy stumbled back from the impact.

“Ow, shit!” Y/N cursed. “How the hell do people do that?” He asked himself.

The guy on his left went to attack him, Y/N shuffled backwards in response. His hands frantically searched behind him, bumping into the cereal bowl, and gripping the fork. He grabbed the attacker by the shirt with one hand, and used the other to ram the fork into the side of the neck. He watched the body stutter and slump to the floor.

The man on the right wrapped his arm around his neck, choking Y/N and effectively putting him in a headlock. Y/N grabbed the guy’s forearm, extending his claws into the man’s skin. He then brought the guy’s arm to his mouth; his fangs sticking into his flesh. The guy hissed in pain, and in a fit of anger, grabbed Y/N by the hair and slammed his head into the counter next to him.

Y/N slumped to the floor and the goon took a step back, standing by the culprit. Y/N groaned in pain. He saw a gun pointed at him just like before.

“Damn, tail-wagger.” The crook cursed, looking at his bloody arm.

Y/N’s body stuttered as he slowly picked himself off the floor. “Don’t move!” The goon demanded.

Y/N slowed his movements, but he didn’t stop. He felt unreasonably lighthead. Could be because he just got his head slammed against a counter, or because he’s low on iron. His eyes fogged and his vision was immobilized. He was soon met with a hard hit to the jaw. He fell completely unconscious.

—

“How have you been, little wing?” Dick asked, plopping down next to his brother. He opened the soda can in his hand, downing it. Dick had stopped by Jason’s flat. He was just checking up on him, and didn't really intend to stay long.

Jason shrugged, not minding the older male’s presence. “I don’t know. Nothing amazing has happened, so I’ve just been… neutral.” He said, mindlessly scrolling on his phone.

“What about you and that dude? Y/N?” Grayson asked. The whole Batfam was familiar with the creature’s name and abilities, but never with Y/N. They’ve never actually met Y/N, only hearing about him through Jason.

Jason thought for a moment. “Actually.. We haven’t talked since yesterday evening, and he usually sends me good morning and goodnight texts.” Slight panic set in, as he frantically opened Y/N’s contact.

“Is he okay?” Dick asked, looming over his brother’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” Jason said, sending his boyfriend a quick message. “I think I should head over there. I haven’t seen him in awhile anyways.” He quickly shot up, heading for the door.

“Want me to come with?” Nightwing questioned.

“No. Sit here and watch some shitty rom com.” Jason grabbed his jacket, leaving his apartment.

—

Jason’s eyes were glued to his phone while he waited on the elevator of Y/N’s complex. When the doors opened, he bucketed out, finding his boyfriend’s room. His eyes stared at the broken handle.

“Fuck.” He whispered, pushing past the entrance. His eyes widened at the dead man on Y/N’s floor. A bloody fork sticking out of his neck.

“No. No. No.” He repeated, crouching down and looking at the guy. He grabbed the man’s arm, pulling his sleeve down and looking at the tattoo. “Fuck.” Jason pulled out his phone, taking a picture of the tattoo. Then of the dead guy’s face. He patted the guy down, found a wallet and a phone, shoving them in his pocket. He used the sleeve of his jacket to grab the fork, and put it with the rest of the stuff.

He grabbed his own phone, dialing a number. It rang for a bit until someone picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, B. I need a favor.” He said.

“Is everything alright?”

“I need to use your lab.” Jason stood up, noticing the slightly disheveled house.

“Alright.”

“Thanks.” He then ended the call and dialed another number.

—

“For fucks sake. Get that damn phone!”

Y/N woke up to the sound of ringing and he shivered at the cold air. His head was pounding. He looked down at his half-naked — restrained — body. Y/N was greeted by a bright phone to his face. His face cringed as he tried to adjust his vision to new-found — almost unbearably bright — light. It did nothing to cease his headache.

“Who the hell is this?” The man asked angrily. “Is it one of your pup buds? They’ve been spamming you. I’m fucking tired of it, so who the hell is this?” This guy was different from his captors.

The screen read “Boo-thang”. Y/N laughed at the stupid name. The guy slammed his boot onto Y/N’s foot, causing him to hiss.

“Answer my question!” He demanded.

Y/N didn’t want to say his name, so he lied. “Mike.”

“Mike who?” The phone stopped ringing, and the guy threw the device back onto the table.

“Hunt.”

“Mike Hunt?” The guy asked.

He heard one of his members snicker. The dude ignored it. “You think you’re funny, you bastard?” He said threateningly.

“A little.” Y/N said under his breath.

The guy grabbed him by the jaw. His grip hard – the man’s nails digging into Y/N’s cheek. “I’m gonna fucking break you, you mutt.” He threw the werewolf’s head to the side.

“Jokes on you, you snollygoster.” Y/N grinned at the man in front of him. “I’m into that shit.”

The man chuckled. “Yeah,” he grabbed the knife on the table behind him, “we’ll see how into it you are when we’re done.

—

“What’s this about?” Bruce asked, standing behind Jason as he rummaged around in his Batcave.

“Y/N.” Jason said simply. “What can you do with this stuff?” He placed the bloody fork, wallet, and phone on the table.

“That mutt?” Bruce grumbled, ignoring evidence he was provided.

“Not now.” Jason threatened. “I have pictures of this dead guy. The fork was in his neck, and this is his stuff. I think Y/N was the one who killed him. Are you gonna help me or not?” He asked.

Bruce sighed and put his gloves on. “Just give me a minute.”

“Thank you.”

—

Y/N jaw locked on his lip as the hot metal was pressed against his stomach. He flinched back into his seat. He could taste the blood from his new self-made wound. He cursed under his breath letting out a long painful groan until the knife was pulled away.

He looked at the angry red mark on his torso. Y/N glared at the man in front of him. “You’re un-sexy-ing me. Mike’s not gonna like that.” He said through gritted teeth. He was joking, but nothing about him showed that.

“You keep yapping and I’m gonna have to put a muzzle of your bitch-ass.” His captor said.

“Getting a little kinky are we-” Y/N was cut off by his hair being yanked up and a swift punch to the face. Then another. Then another. They kept coming until his face was bloody.

“Aren’t dogs supposed to be good and listen?” The attacker asks, standing back.

“Isn’t animal abuse illegal?” Y/N mumbled. His head down, his spit mixing with the blood and dripping onto his lap.

“So you agree you’re nothing more than a sad little puppy?” The guy asked, taking the knife from earlier and putting in on the flame of the blow torch.

Y/N glared at him. “I agree you’re a shit human. I bet you enjoy beating up animals in your free time, you sick demented fuck-” He hissed in pain as the knife pressed into his shoulder.

—

Jason anxiously paced around Bruce’s cave. His fingers were destroyed by how much he was gnawing on them.

Bruce stared at the ID in his hand. “John Nelson” along with other information filled out on the card. He then grabbed the phone, going to open it.

“It has a face ID.” He said.

Jason stopped his pacing. “What?”

Bruce showed him the screen.

Jason snatched the phone. “I got it. Just- just do what you can with the ID.” He then left the manor.

—

“How you gonna weasel your way out of this one, pooch?”

Y/N looked up at the hunter through his lashes, glaring a hole into him. The man grinned, taking a bite out of his sandwich. He was teasing the werewolf, eating in front of him.

“Soon we’ll have your friends and family. Maybe even that ‘Mike’.” The man’s voice was muffled by his mouth full of food.

Y/N gritted his teeth. “He’s human. You leave him out of it, you pretentious milksop.”

“He brought himself into this. He seems worried. Constantly calling and texting you.” He pushed himself off the table he was leaning against while taking another bite of his food. He waved the food in front of Y/N’s face. “Want some?”

Y/N’s gaze never softened and never left the hunter’s eyes. The guy huffed. “Go on. Take a bite. I know you’re hungry.” He pressed the bread against Y/N’s mouth.

Y/N responded by spitting on the food, some of it hitting the guy’s hand.

“You bitch!” The guy yelled, throwing his food at Y/N and aggressively wiping his hand off on his pants. “You ungrateful mutt!”

Y/N let out a quiet laugh. The man glared at him. “You having a little laugh?” He then picked up a bat next to the table. “My turn, you little shit.”

He slammed the bat down on Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N growled in pain; taking breathes to try and overcome the sensation. The hunter hit him again, and a cracking sound filled the room. Y/N slammed his feet against the ground because it was the only thing he could think to do to distract himself.

—

Jason held the dead man’s eye open, and held the phone to his face. When it opened, Jason scrolled through the phone, finding the settings. He quickly changed the password to the device before shoving it back into his pocket and standing up.

He took the time to properly investigate the place. He roamed the main room, looking under the coffee table, and the couch. HE picked up pillows and blankets on the couch.

Then, to the bathroom. He took notice of the empty shaving cream bottle and laughed.

Lastly, to the bedroom. He rummaged through Y/N’s drawers. It wasn’t the first time he’s ransacked the man’s room, so he didn’t find anything new. He halted any movement when he saw a gun taped to the top of the drawer. He grabbed it, shoving it in his pants. He then fished his phone out of his pocket, calling Y/N again.

—

The agonizing man stared at Y/N’s ringing phone. “No, really. Who is this guy to you?”

Y/N’s head hung low. He had no energy to look at the man. No energy to speak. No energy to open his eyes. He would’ve stayed like that, but he didn’t have a choice. The man used a gun to lift Y/N’s head up.

“Speak.” The dog commands were getting on Y/N’s nerves.

Y/N gritted his teeth, glaring daggers at the man in front of him. “I don't have enough energy nor crayons to explain it to you.”

The man hummed. “Still got the pride to joke? I’m impressed.” He took the gun away.

“You’re not the first person to do this to me, and I’ll be damned if you’re the last.” Y/N said. “Hey, can you do me a favor though since you’re so impressed with me?”

“Depends on the favor.”

“Can you do my Duolingo lesson for today? I can't bear to lose my streak.” Y/N asked.

The man thought for a second. “Hey. Frank.” He called out. A man popped up beside him. “Take this Duolingo lesson for our friend here.”

“Yes, sir.” Frank took the phone and left the room.

The man grabbed the knife off the table.

—

Jason slid the phone across the table to Bruce. “Boom. The password is ‘fuck you’.” Jason stood there, arms crossed over his chest.

“Creative.” Bruce grumbled, accessing the phone.

Bruce checked all the social media platforms. Searching for more answers. He then trailed on to the messages. Then he looked at the contacts. The most recent call was to someone with the title ‘boss’. “Do you know how to trace calls?” Bruce asked, raising a brow to Y/N.

“Yeah.” Jason said.

Bruce gestured to his desk. “Get over there. I'm gonna call this guy.”

“I wanna talk to him.” Jason was demanding, not requesting. He wanted to speak to the fucker.

“No.” Bruce said simply. “You’ll say something in a fit of anger and mess all of this up.”

Jason grumbled something under his breath and sat at Bruce’s computer filled desk. “Fine.”

—

Y/N yelped in pain as a knife was stabbed into his thigh. He squeezed his eyes shut; violently shaking his head as he tried to get used to the unbearable stinging feeling in his leg. The knife was then yanked back out, only to be plunged back in.

“God damn it!” He yelled.

The man grabbed the handle, making it move in circles. Y/N could almost cry, but why would he do that?

Y/N growled at the man crouched down in front of him. He used his other leg and kicked the man in his crotch. The man stumbled back with a yell. A sudden rush of adrenaline coursed through Y/N as he stood up; the chair following him, stuck to his backside.

“This is gonna hurt like a bitch.” He mumbled before throwing himself backwards. The chair easily broke under his weight. He groaned in pain. When he looked up, the man was towering over him.

Y/N’s arms were still restrained to the broken chair arms. He gripped both of them. He took a swift swing to his attacker’s legs. The man collapsed onto one knee. Y/N used the other hand to land a hard swing to the guy's head.

The guy stumbled to the side from the impact. Y/N scrambled to stand up; using the wall behind him for support, for the knife in his leg wasn’t making things easy. His opponent did the same.

Y/N watched blood trickle down from the man’s nose to the ground. “You’re not gonna get far with those injuries.” The man spoke.

Y/N removed the knife from his thigh. He aggressively freed his hands from the chair arms and threw them to the side. He held the knife to the man threateningly.

Suddenly the man’s phone began to ring. “Answer it.” Y/N demanded.

The man fumbled to get his phone out of his pocket. He answered it and put the phone to his ear. “Speaker.” Y/N said.

The man nodded; calmly putting the phone on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Who is this?” The man asked.

“No one important.”

Y/N looked at the contact, recognizing the voice. It clicked in his mind like two lego pieces. “Keep ‘im on.” Y/N said.

“Y/N?”

“Is this that ‘Mike’ guy?” The man asked.

Y/N silently cursed to himself. “Shut up.” Y/N said. Y/N relaxed a little bit.

While Y/N talked with his boyfriend’s dad, the attacker was slowly reaching for his gun. Y/N was cut off when the man pistol-whipped him. His gun firing and the bullet landing in his leg, close to the knife wound.

“God-! Fuck! You douchebag.” Y/N yelled as he collapsed to the ground.

The man hung up the phone. “Stupid mutt!” He angrily yelled, kicking Y/N in the stomach. He kicked him again, and again, and again. Y/N flinched and groaned with every hit. “Just when I was starting to like your bitch-ass too.”

He grabbed Y/N; flipping the man onto his stomach. He then dug his fingers into Y/N’s fresh bullet wound. Y/N let out a painful yell. He used his free hand to grab the man’s neck, extending his claws into his flesh.

The man hissed as he pried Y/N’s hand off of him, and used his other hand to throw punches. He brutally beat the animal-like man below him. Y/N fell limp and his attack finally stopped. He stood up and whipped the blood off his knuckles, neck, and face.

“This is how you die.” The man said. “You’re gonna lay here, and bleed out.” And with that, he left the room. Y/N heard the soft click of the lock.

Y/N just laid there.

—

“I got it!” Jason yelled. “I fucking got it!” He wrote down the coordinates on his hand. He sprung up from the desk chair, grabbing his helmet.

“Wait!” Bruce yelled.

Jason whipped his head around. “No! Because all you’re gonna say is that same bullshit. ‘Killing won’t solve anything’. I don’t care! I-”

“No, Jason. Good luck.” Bruce said. “Make it out alive.”

Jason stared at Bruce in shock. He nodded. “I-... Thank you.” He said thoughtfully.

—

Y/N sat up. He pushed himself against the wall with a grunt. His breathing was heavy as he beared through the pain. He watched blood seep out of his leg and onto the cold floor. He sighed, his head falling back and hitting the wall.

“Damn it…” He mumbled hopelessly. “Damn it. Damn it! Damn it! He yelled, slamming his fist and the ground.

He felt himself slowly lose that drive he had earlier. Slowly, he slumped to the ground, on his side. He felt pain erupted in him as he realized his collar bone was broken. He let out a muffled moan of pain.

The blood from his face dripped onto the ground next to his head. His hand desperately gripped his wounded leg, trying to stop the bleeding. His grip was weak though.

—

It didn’t take long for Jason to find the place. It was some cliche abandoned building. He parked a ways away, walking the rest of the way. He moved alleyway from alleyway. His back pressed into the brick wall and glanced around the corner.

Two guards.

“I don’t understand why we have to go through all of this for just one of them.” One of them said.

“If we get one, we can get the rest.” Their partner replied.

Jason stepped out from the alleyway, and slowly approached the guards.

One of them took notice quickly, hitting their friend. “Look. Little red riding hood is here.” They gestured to the mask.

“Excuse me, gentlemen. I’m looking for a Y/N L/N.” Jason said.

“Looks like he came here for the big bad wolf.” They whispered.

They both went to aim their guns at Jason, but Jason was faster. He took a step to the side, and used the gun he found and Y/N’s. He shot them both in the head. The bodies fell to the floor in front of the entrance.

He stepped over the two bodies; walking into the entrance. He walked through the lobby of the building, quickly finding the elevator. He pressed the button and patiently waited.

He pulled out his other gun. He stared at the doors. As soon as they opened, he saw three of them. He shot the two on the sides at the same time, and before the middle one could do anything his gun was pointed towards him.

He stared at him for a moment. The guy had fear written all over his face. The doors began to close, but Jason put his foot where the sensor was.

“What floor?” He asked.

The man shuddered.

“I asked you a question.” Jason said sternly.

“Fifth! Just- just let me go!” The guy yelped.

Jason didn’t hesitate for a second to pull the trigger. He stepped over the guy’s body. He used his foot to push him out of the elevator for more room. He pressed the fifth floor button.

—

Y/N couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes — or even flinch — when he heard the door open. “Make sure no one comes in.” Was all he heard. Then the door closed, and footsteps approached him.

They stopped in front of him. “You moved.” He pointed out.

Y/N didn’t respond. He looked like a kicked, broken down puppy.

“Come on.” The man crouched down next to Y/N. “Don’t tell me you died.”

Y/N opened his eyes and scowled at the man. “You shouldn’t have come back.” He mumbled.

The man gave him a confused look, leaning closer to Y/N. “What’d you say, boy?”

Y/N growled at the man. “I said, ‘you shouldn’t have come back’!” Y/N grabbed him by the shirt sinking his sharp teeth into the guy's neck. The man yelled trying to push Y/N off of him. He stumbled back, and Y/N crawled on top of him.

Y/N spit out a chunk of flesh. He punched the man below him rhythmically, like he had done to him. He used his power with every punch. His punches had more force than the man had on him.

Punch after punch. Blood splattered against Y/N as he sensely pounded the guy's face in. When Y/N was done, the man was unrecognizable. Unrecognizable and dead.

Y/N breathing was fast. His chest rapidly heaving. He collapsed next to the limp, dead man. His eyes drained to the blood flesh like face. His body hurt. From overuse and the amount of wounds he had. His shattered collarbone hurt worse than before.

He choked on his blood.

—

Jason stepped out of the elevator. One guy stood outside a room. The guard saw him and shot at him. Jason skillfully moved out of the way. He went to shoot the man only for his gun to be empty. He ran up to the guy, punching the guy in the jaw.

The man passed out. Jason grabbed the guy’s gun, then shot him. He looked at the room.

He pushed open the door. It was eerie and quiet. “Y/N?” He called out.

He walked around the room and that was when he was met with a not-so pretty sight to see. “Y/N.” He said breathlessly.

There his boyfriend laid. Next to a bloody, dead body. Y/N was lifelessly limp. He rushed to Y/N, flipping the man onto his back.

“Y/N, respond to me.” Jason pressed his fingers against the man’s next. A faint pulse. “Y/N, respond.” He demanded. “Y/N, please.”

He shook the werewolf. “Y/N, respond to me! Say something! Please!” He yelled.

Y/N only let out a hum, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything else.

“Come on. We gotta go.” Jason said.

“I can’t.” Y/N’s words were quiet and breathless. “I can’t move.”

“Please, Y/N. We gotta go.” Tears welled up in his eyes. He tried pulling Y/N up.

Y/N stumbled to catch up. Jason threw Y/N’s arm over his shoulder. The werewolf wailed in pain. Cringing at his collarbone.

Jason practically sobbed at the thought of how much he was hurting Y/N. He didn’t know what else to do though. They both stumbled through the room.

“Jason. Jason! Fuck, you’re hurting me!” Y/N yelled.

“I know! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Please, just…” He couldn’t bring himself to talk without crying.

Y/N only grunted in pain. “Jason.” Y/N called out.

“I know. I know.”

“No, Jason. When this is over, I want to move in together.” Y/N called out.

Jason stared at Y/N in shock. “Yeah. Yeah, anything you want, but you can’t die on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

——