#she's pulling a robin hood you guys
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ekcomics · 1 year ago
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In honor of the third issue releasing tomorrow, I present to you the first half of the first issue of: NOBODY’S PRINCESS
As a young lady of noble birth, Lady Theodosia Averelle (Theo to her friends) has always known what was expected of her: behave appropriately, learn to manage a household, and marry well.
But when confronted with the reality of an arranged marriage to a prince she’d never met and a future ruling a foreign kingdom, Theo realizes one very important piece of information about herself...
She doesn’t want to be a princess.
With that in mind, Theo does what any reasonable young lady would do in her position—she fakes her own kidnapping and demands her dowry as the ransom so that she can run away and live a life of adventure. Too bad her fairy tale prince isn’t going to give up on "rescuing" her that easily. Good thing Theo makes a good outlaw.
Words: Erin Keepers Art: Catriona Laird
Published by Odyssey Comics CHECK OUT THE KICKSTARTER FOR ISSUE #3
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leoleolovesdc · 1 year ago
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The batfamily must be fucking scary. Imagine being alone in the middle of the night picking a lock from some bank you want rob, you hear nothing but you can feel someone watching you. You look around, a bit suspicious but see nothing, however, the feeling doesn’t go away. You hear a light footstep, it sounds just distant enough to be threatening. You wait for someone to appear and try to arrest you but nothing happens. No one comes. You go back to the lock, but the nervousness isn’t letting you do the job right, with that amount of paranoia just before you’re about to give up you can see a dark bat-like figure jumping out of the nearest building, flying down with an inhuman speed and knocking you out. You don’t have time to think, or run, just scream hoping that you won’t die tonight.
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cloakedsparrow · 5 months ago
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Dick: Okay, I think we’re gonna have to do ‘Good Cop, Bad Cop’.
Jason: Yeah. It’s tropey but it works.
Dick: Exactly. Wanna flip for Bad Cop?
Jason: You’re kidding.
Dick: Or we could play Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock?
Jason: Dude, I can’t be Good Cop. I kill people, remember? You can’t kill people and be Good Cop.
Dick: Those were traffickers and mob lieutenants. These are Rogue goons.
Jason: What, like that matters?
Dick: Yes, that matters. They don’t care that you took out some mobsters. They care that you revived the Joker after beating him to death and then let him go.
Jason: I didn’t revive him, I just didn’t let him die yet! And I didn’t let him go either! That was Batman! I was gonna kill the psycho!
Dick: Yeah, well, you still kept him alive and the goons probably know it. Just like they know I was happy to leave him dead when I killed him.
Jason: What?
Dick: You heard me.
Jason: You…?
Dick: Killed the Joker? Yes. I thought he killed Timmy and then when I confronted him, he said your name and…I didn’t stop hitting him until he choked on his own blood.
Jason: Then…how is he still alive?
Dick: Batman revived him.
Jason Fucking what?
Dick: Yeah.
Jason: Well, now I definitely can’t be Good Cop. I’m way to pissed for that shit.
Dick: Well, so am I.
Jason: Fuck.
Dick: Fuck.
Jason: So now whadda we do? Try to beat it outta him?
Dick: No, he'll lock down. That's why I suggested "Good Cop, Bad Cop" to begin with.
Jason: So we need a Good Cop.
Dick: Okay, I’m gonna call Timmy and see if he can come play Good Cop.
Jason: Good plan.
Dick [talking into a secure (& Batman-proof) phone]: Hey, Robin, you busy?
Tim [on speakerphone]: Kinda, yeah. What’s going on? You sound weird.
Dick: Hood and I need to get some intel from a goon, and we’re thinking “Good Cop, Bad Cop” is the way to go but neither of us can pull off Good Cop right now.
Tim: Shit. I’m in Bangkok right now-
Jason: The fuck are you doing in Bangkok?
Tim: Speedy needed help with a thing.
Dick: In Bangkok?
Tim: No. She’s in Korea.
Jason: So, again, why the fuck are you in Bangkok?
Tim: Because Lady Shiva’s here and she’s perfect for what Speedy needs, so I’m calling in a favor she owes me.
Dick: You’re calling in a favor from Lady Shiva because Speedy needs help with a thing in Korea.
Tim: Yep. You got it.
Dick: No, that’s- You say that like it doesn’t require any further-
Tim: Can you hang on for a second? There’s an assassin tailing me.
Dick: Shit. Do you need us to send someone out there?
Jason; Starfire should be done with her thing by now. She's not on your shit list, right?
Tim: No, I like Kori. But I’m good now. My assassin got the other assassin.
Dick: You have an assassin?
Tim: Kinda? She defected from the League of Assassins and is up for hire but she always gives me priority since she feels like she owes me a life-debt.
Dick: Again, you sound like you think that statement doesn’t require any further explanation.
Jason: So you hired your assassin buddy to kill the other assassin?
Tim: What? No. Of course not. She didn’t kill him. We’ll question him later. She never kills on my jobs since she knows I don’t like it.
Dick: What about other jobs?
Tim: That’s her business. We aren’t all control freaks, you know.
Dick: That’s-
Jason: That’s good, Little Red. Good that you have healthy boundaries.
Dick: I have healthy boundaries.
Jason: Sure you do.
Tim: Okay, you’re gonna have to argue that on your own. I’m supposed to help my friends out with something after I get Shiva to help Speedy, but I have to handle this interrogation first. So how about I just send my friends the twenty-five plans I drew up and ask Bunker if he minds helping you out before he joins us? He should be able to get inside Gotham in less than ten minutes.
Jason: Oh, Bunker’s perfect for Good Cop.
Tim: Right? They’ll spill everything and probably give him their grandma’s secret family recipes on top of it.
Dick: Wait. Back it up. You have twenty-five plans drawn up? What are you guys up against?
Tim: Nothing we can’t handle. Young Justice figures, why even bother with a plan B if you aren’t gonna cover the whole alphabet?
Jason: There’s twenty-six letters in the alphabet, Little Red.
Tim: Yeah, but plan Z is always the same, so we don’t bother listing it anymore.
Dick: Is it ‘get an adult’?
Tim: Of course not.
Jason: When you were a Teen Titan, how often did you call in an adult when you probably should have?
Dick: Okay, that’s fair.
Jason: So what’s plan Z?
Tim: ‘Fuck it, we ball’.
Dick: That’s not a pl-
Jason: That’s perfect. I love it.
Dick: No. Don’t encourage him.
Tim: Thanks, Red. So do you want me to ask Bunker about helping you? I’m kinda on a time crunch now.
Jason: Yes, please.
Tim: Okay. He’s on the way. Is there anything else?
Dick: Whe-
Jason: No, we’re good. Have fun storming the castle!
Tim: ‘Kay, bye!
Jason: Bye!
Dick: The fuck-
Jason: Bunker and I can handle the interrogation here and Timmy and his assassin friend are gonna be busy with an interrogation there for a bit. If you take off now, you can probably catch up with him and go all big brother like you’re dying to.
Dick: You sure?
Jason: Yeah, I’m sure me and Bunker can handle this asshole.
Dick: Thank you.
Jason: Yeah, well, you did kill the Joker. That’s gotta count for something, right?
Dick: I’ll tell you all about it after I make sure Timmy doesn’t get himself killed or lose another organ.
Jason: I’ll hold you to- Timmy lost an organ?
Dick [already calling Kori to get him to Tim]: Later. I’m on a time crunch now!
Jason: I’m holding you to that!
Jason: *sighs* No one in this family knows how to share.
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kittyfrisk9 · 5 months ago
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IdeaDpxDc—There are better ways to meet someone.
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Dead On Main. Soul mates.
---
"Exactly... what does this ring do?" The shining ring was still attached to his finger. This wouldn't worry him if it weren't for the fact that, with each passing minute, the ring emitted more light, and that can't be good.
The cult leader refused to speak. He wouldn't even look at him, seeming particularly attentive to the material the floor was made of. Very funny that now he was scared of him when, an hour ago, he was giving a very cliché speech about how humanity was doomed because it would summon the evil of evils.
It wasn't very smart of him to perform his summoning precisely in Gotham City, home of the Dark Knight.
Red Hood was getting impatient. He placed the hand without the ring on his weapon; if words didn't work, a real threat to his life would. And this didn't really break Bruce's 'no killing' rule because the gun was only loaded with rubber bullets. However, just as he was about to advance and shoot the guy, he saw Batman grab the leader's tunic collar and lift him up.
The man, of course, screamed in fear. "Speak, what does that ring do?" No jokes. Batman's voice was deeper than usual, showing that he was upset, no, rather angry.
Or worried, but Jason could never consider that possibility. For the moment, he was only surprised, although it didn't show through his helmet.
"I-I don't know," the leader replied. Poor guy, he seemed about to cry. Batman, not content, tightened his grip even more; he wasn't willing to tolerate a lie this time.
Red Robin raised an eyebrow. "You managed to gather a bunch of magical artifacts for your summoning and you don't know what they do?"
The man looked away. "No..." The rest of the cult members also looked away. Very brave and stupid of them to all agree to lie to the bats. Jason himself wanted to mock them, but the ring kept shining. He couldn't mock when the ring kept shining and he didn't know what it meant.
From the communications, Robin could be heard. "Tt, this wouldn't be happening if Hood hadn't put on the ring." Jason suppressed a growl.
"Kid, I didn't put on the ring. This thing stuck to me the moment I touched it." It was true. In the middle of the operation to stop the ritual, Jason had pulled the ring, which at that moment was a kind of necklace by the chain that ran through it, from a member who was wearing it. The ring in his hand began to glow and suddenly teleported to his ring finger, then stopped shining. It was when everything calmed down that the ring began to release a different, but constant light.
Approximately ten minutes have passed since then, he thought as he looked at the ring, ignoring all the magical stuff; it was actually a very simple ring. Suddenly, the ring began to blink.
Oh, no. That couldn't be good.
Batman, fed up with the leader's silence and his followers, threw the man meters ahead. "Oracle, call Zatanna now, we need more information about the ring," he ordered as he approached the man who was in pain from the fall. The guy, terrified by the violent aura of the Dark Knight, tried to retreat.
Finally, Nightwing stepped between the man and the brutal beating he would receive if he didn't speak.
"It's okay, B, calm down." With his hand on his father's shoulder, Dick tried to ease the atmosphere. "I understand your concern. We are all worried about what the ring might do to Hood. But we can't let fear and anger control us. Hood is important to all of us. He is our brother, your son. We can't lose our cool now. Let's call Wonder Woman. If no one wants to talk, she can help us with the lasso of truth."
Total silence. Jason didn't know what to say; he didn't think his family would react like this over a blinking ring. That is... he doesn't know. Suddenly, the ring's light began to blink faster.
Batman, after Nightwing's words and seeing the change in the ring, understood that he couldn't waste time with someone who wouldn't talk. "You're right, thank you Nightwing." Looking at the others, he said: "We need to act quickly, we don't know the effects the ring might have on Hood. We need to take him to the cave for a thorough analysis, no discussions." The last part he said looking at Jason. "Until then, don't try to take it off or use it."
Jason scoffed, as if he would.
"Oracle, you heard, call Diana. Red Robin and I will take care of the rest of the cult. Nightwing, take Red Hood to the cave." Batman began giving orders as he reached the leader and began dragging him towards the rest of his cult. The leader, in a failed attempt, tried to resist. "Agent A, please prepare a stretcher. Understood?"
Everyone nodded.
On the other hand, the touching speech and the strange family moment of the bats seemed to soften the heart of a girl from the cult, who in a whisper said: "The ring, nothing will happen to him." Although she spoke quietly, everyone present heard her.
The leader, panicking that the information would be revealed, exclaimed: "Catrina, shut up!" However, he was struck by Batman, who was already fed up with the guy.
"What do you have to say about the ring?" he asked.
The woman hesitated to speak. "We thought of using the ring to subdue the king of the dead and make him listen to our orders..." She paused, not knowing how to continue. "There is a real legend about the ring. A long time ago, a witch wanted to know who her soulmate was, so she created the ring. This allows one to be guided to their soulmate through the red thread. I think everyone already knows what the red thread is." Nervous, she looked around. Only Nightwing nodded, and that was enough for her to continue telling. "Well, the witch's red thread connected with a prince. Unfortunately for everyone, the prince was not happy that his soulmate was a witch. So he had her killed." The girl looked at her hands; that part of the story was sad. "The witch was angry, but still wanted her soulmate to accept her, so she rewrote the ring's original purpose. It was no longer something that united you with your soulmate, but now it was something that allowed you to subdue your soulmate... uh, this." She pointed to a book that was lying in a corner. "With another spell, in fact, it can be used to subdue anyone, even a king of the dead."
With the whole story already told, Red Robin asked: "So, what is the ring doing to Red Hood?"
"It's tracking his soulmate. I... didn't get to put the other spell on it. I could only activate the ring's primary function. Your brother will be fine."
That definitely changes things. Jason swore he could hear his heart beating. A soulmate, wow. He admits he's read many romance novels and maybe once dreamed of it, but for it to actually happen, wow.
Suddenly, the ring stopped blinking. Five seconds later, everyone saw a red thread shoot out from the ring's gem. It quickly moved in one direction, went through the wall, and kept going. The process was like a fishing rod when it catches a fish.
"Does this mean it already found its soulmate?" Red Robin asked. Astonished by the red thread, he tried to touch it but his hand went through it; apparently, the thread was intangible to anyone else.
"Yes," the cultist also seemed astonished.
Jason felt a look on him, turned, it was his brother. Oh no, not that look, he knew that smile; Dick would tease him so much in the coming days. For his part, Batman sighed in relief. Well, it wasn't such an extreme danger, but it was still dangerous. "Agent A, cancel the stretcher." He never imagined this would mean a soulmate case. "Oracle, don't cancel the call to Zatanna or Wonder Woman, we need to verify the information. We'll stay here until the police arrive."
How nice it would be if everything ended like that, right? With Dick joking with Jason, Tim analyzing the thread, Barbara laughing at the turn of events, Bruce relieved and Damian surprised. However, one must remember the story.
The witch changed the ring's original purpose. Unexpectedly, the thread began to retract, as if it had caught something. It did so so quickly that Jason grabbed his hand in pain. It was then that everyone had a bad feeling. The wall the thread had previously passed through suddenly exploded, the noise and dust alerting everyone, especially when once the chaos disappeared, something horrific could be seen.
An arm. A fucking arm. Apparently freshly torn from its owner. Oh, no. What did it do to his soulmate?
...
Somewhere else in the world, somewhere in the United States, Danny gasped in pain. What the hell? What was that? Ancients! Where is his arm?
---
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Edited on 06/21/2024 - Note two: Thanks to redflagshipwriter, who continued this idea below. And to Sakuravalelp who made me laugh with the complement.
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lazerswordweilder · 10 months ago
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Personally I think the Justice League not knowing Batman had kids would be more bad at social things Batman rather than paranoid Batman and they found out like this:
Justice league, minus Batman: *walks into the meeting room*
Superman: *freezes*
Green Lantern: what’s wrong?
Superman: …Batman. Why do you have three heart beats and why is one of them a cats?
Batman: *throws cape over his shoulders revealing Damian sleeping on his lap and a cat sitting on his lap* this is Robins cat Mr Whiskers
Flash: you have a side kick?!
Batman, confused because he thought they knew: no? I have a team?
Wonder Woman: a team?
Batman: Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Robin, Batgirl, Signal- I thought you guys knew this *pulls out his wallet and pulls 50+ family photos out of that* how did you not? Have none of you pick pocketed me? *the Robins always steal his stuff and he assumes that both his teams do the same things*
Superman: I’m sorry, what?
Batman: how did you not know?
Green Arrow: well you don’t exactly talk about your life
Batman: yeah but you should’ve figured it out, I give figuring out your guys secret identities out as things to do when the Robins are bored. Who did you think looked after Gotham when I couldn’t?
Flash: I thought your power was being two places at once?
Batman: ??? I don’t have powers?
Everyone: WHAT
Batman: I never have?
Superman: how are you such a good fighter then?
Batman: I trained for two decades?
Flash: what.
Green Arrow: wait, why did you call them ‘the Robins’ I thought there were only two Robins?
Batman: well they were all Robin at some point, most of them anyways. Dick was the first Robin, then he became Nightwing. A while after that I found Jason and he became the second Robin, he died and then got resurrected and became a crime boss for a while and changed his name to Red Hood. And while Jason was dead Tim showed up and became Robin, Tim became Red Robin. And Damian is the current Robin.
J’onn: why do you call them by their real names, I know you know everyone’s secret identities but isn’t that rude?
Batman: what do you mean? They’re my kids? I’ve adopted all of them?
Everyone: WHAT
Superman: Wait, circle back. One of your kids got resurrected and is a crime boss
Batman: he isn’t bad, he just isn’t offically part of the team anymore but we still work togther all the time-
Flash: offically? What is there a list on the Gotham police website.
Batman: yes, it can be wrong sometimes though, they thought Batgirl was my sidekick way before I actually started training her. It took me a while to realise I couldn’t convince her to stop crime fighhting.
Green Lantern: you don’t make them when you adopt them?
Btman: NO! She was like 12! I don’t make kids fight! She wouldn’t stop and it would be mroe dangerous to leave her without proper gear or any way to call for help, and I didn’t want Nightwing to fight when I adopted him he chose to himself and when I said no he went out after Zacoo anyways, and I found Jason stealing my tires so he already knew I was Batman-
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months ago
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DCxDP fic: Copyright
The first time it happened, the Waynes were walking around a street market, glancing at the art, when a woman wearing a Red Hood jacket and drinking out of a Red Robin coffee traveling mug struts by.
The heroes stop to stare, more in shock, to see how well the two items are done, which grabs her attention.
She grins at them, waving her cup. "You guys like the bats? You should check out both nineteen. He sells all official stuff."
"Official?" Dick repeats.
"Yup. He has it all trademarked." She says, pulling out a business card. She hands it to Dick with a smile before bidding everyone goodbye. Babs reaches up, snatching the card from Dick's slack hold, pulling out her phone to research the name.
Babs hisses through her teeth when she finds out that, yes, whoever the artist is, they did, in fact, trademark their designs. But not only did they cover their art, but they also put a copyright over the idea of all the Gotham heroes.
"He copyrighted Batman!?" Tim demands, reading over the baby's shoulder. "The symbol, the technology, the fighting moves- his shadow!? How!?"
"No one else did," Bruce answers with an amused smile. "He probably realized this and decided to slap one on while he had the chance."
"He can't do that!" Tim shouts. "Batman should sue him."
"Kinda hard to take someone to court regarding vigilantes." Dick shrugs his shoulders. "The Bats are illegal themselves, and they didn't copyright before this guy did."
"He owns Robin!" Jason announces with a laugh.
"That son of a-!!" Dick shouts, twisting around and stomping down the booths. People who recognize them jump out of the way for the raging celebrity. The rest of the Waynes were right behind him, a few slightly surprised by the pure anger on the eldest face.
Not Bruce or Jason. They see and personally know Dick's rage.
"How dare he try to claim Robin!" The eldest hisses, rounding the last row and stumbling to a halt. The rest are unprepared for his sudden stop, so they stumble into his back.
Grunts of pain and slight soft swears are heard as the group tumbles over onto the ground. Dick is unfortunate enough to end up on the bottom, feeling the total weight of his family. He's pretty sure Bruce's elbow was digging into his lower back, and Tim's head had slammed on the back of his neck.
Maybe Alfred was right about them going on a stricter diet. Ouch.
"Get up this instant. We are ashamed of the family name." Damian hisses from where he is standing above them. Of course, Cass is next to him with a cheerful smile.
Both of them had danced out of the collision in a way that appeared accidental to the untrained eye. Bruce likely let himself fall because he enjoyed causing scenes as Brucie Wayne, no matter how much he denied it.
"Dick." Jason groans, taking the hand Cass held out for him with grace. "Why did you stop?"
"Look at both nineteen." Dick hisses feeling Tim delibertly dig his elbow into his back. His brother offers him a sweet, innocent smile that does not hide the anger in his eyes. Sometimes Dick wonders if anyone can spot the pettiness in Tim or if his madness hides it.
"Oh," Steph whistles when she hopes off of Bruce to stare at the booth owner. "Yeah, I get it. He's hot"
"No!"Dick shouts, rising up from the ground. There is horror in his voice that makes the Bats all tense. "No, he is not hot. That's disgusting Steph. Look at him. Tell me who's face that is."
It's Bruce who spots it first. "I have more chidlren?"
Damian gasps. "Father, you have more blood, children!? How did you recognize him, Richard?"
"He looks exactly like Bruce at that age." Dick hisses, leaning closer. "The Titians and I met Bruce when he was sixteen during a mishap with a time wizard. I may have pretended to be a butler sent to Wayne Manor for training to get access to the cave. The cave was the location that we had to use to go home."
"That was you?" Bruce demands. "I thought that was an idiot who was in love with Alfred."
"Ew, why?"
"You kept complimenting his cooking, doing chores for him, and trying to take him out for a fun night in town!"
"Well, excuse me for wanting Alfred to have a week's vacation from the broodiest and most troublesome teen!" Dick shouts, throwing his arms in the air. "You were literally hissing at him whenever he told you to bathe!"
"I didn't like water back then!"
"Hey guys?" Jason cuts in. "Tim left."
Both men swing to stare at the second eldest with twin looks of confusion. "What?"
"Tim. He's over there. Yelling at kid-Bruce." Jason points to where a crowd is slowly building around them. Tim is in a screaming match with the owner. There is a lot of hand-waving, faces turning red in anger, finally ending with the owner throwing himself over the Red Robin merchandise with a protective little snarl.
Tim reels back and punches him in the face.
"Oh shit," Steph sighs, running towards the both as the owner is quick to tackle Tim. The Waynes find it odd that they must show off their bat training to break the two apart.
And that's how the Waynes get on the front cover of almost all media coverage that tells the story of Danny Fenton (Wayne). Bruce's second secret love child with a married woman (Jack and Maddie had briefly opened up about their marriage back then, so neither was mad) and who had met his biological father after a public fight with his adoptive brother.
Danny would like to go on record as saying that he was unaware of why Tim cared so much that he saw a fantastic business opportunity and took it. It's not like Batman could challenge his copyrights, and if the crimefighter came for his kneecaps over it, he would find himself against the Ghost King.
True the Ghost King in name only, but the Bat didn't know that.
Danny will be honest if asked how he felt about finding out Bruce Wayne is his father. He already knew. When he was around twelve, his parents sat him down and told him. It was how his dad explained where babies came from, the genuine Welcome To Puberty! Talk and what open marriages meant—which was as horrific as it sounds—and they never bothered with it again.
Because Jack Fenton had been the one to raise Danny, he had been the one who held him after his mom gave birth and had been the one who loved him with all his heart despite not being blood-related.
He had a bigger reaction to having to fist-fight Tim Drake over the fact he made Red Robin the official LGBT+ member of the Bat family because he is bi, no matter how much Tim insists Red Robin was straight.
It sounds to him like Tim is deep in the closet and in denial. Bisexual Red Robin forever!
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jinjeriffic · 10 months ago
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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 2
Part 1
Damian glared at the envelope. He and Father were in the process of analysing the letter for any signs of toxins, explosives or other traps. Obviously he wasn’t fool enough to open a missive from a questionable source without taking precautions. So far, all their scans had come up empty. Literally. The letter was defying all their attempts at chemical or spectroscopic testing, x-ray and magnetic resonance scans were inconclusive, it defied all properties of ordinary matter. It was frustrating. It was vexing. He was blaming magic.
For all intents and purposes, the letter looked like ordinary paper, with an ordinary wax seal, bearing the initials CW. The looping handwriting addressing it to Damian was precise and neat. Swiping the surface of the letter for chemical traces yielded no results. When Damian had tried to cut off a corner of the paper for analysis it had resisted all attempts, including a laser and a diamond headed cutting tool. Damian’s only satisfaction was that when Father had grunted and taken over the task from Damian, he had no more success than his son. As if Damian didn’t know how to perform the standard array of tests!
It certainly didn’t help that his siblings wouldn’t stop their incessant chattering!
“I’m just saying, ghosts wouldn’t be the weirdest thing we’ve encountered, Red. I’m not sure it would even make my personal Top 5.”
It seemed gossip among heroes travelled faster than the speed of light.
“Really, Nightwing? Ghosts? It’s far more likely to be a meta with something to hide. Or a few screws loose.” Damian could practically hear the eyeroll in Drake’s voice “And since when do ghosts act as glorified mailmen?”
“I don’t know Red, since when do aliens pretend to be Kansas farmboys? C’mon, we deal with magic users all the time!”
“And lets not forget people coming back from the dead” Red Hood interjected over the open comm line.
“Magic is just science we don’t understand yet. Any sufficiently analysed magic becomes indistinguishable from science!”
“B, a little help here?”
“Hn” Father straightened up from his position at the lab table “Oracle, any progress on clearing up the footage from Robin’s mask?”
Grayson threw up his hands with a frustrated huff while Drake smirked.
“The program is almost finished rendering. Whatever scrambler they used did a real number on the video quality. I’m surprised the audio is as clear as it is.” Oracle replied.
“Hn. And the isotope tracer on the money?”
“Sorry B, no hits on the local sensors. Wherever the guy went it’s either outside Gotham or shielded somehow.” she said, mildly frustrated.
“Maybe it’s ghost magiiiiic” Drake sing-songed. Grayson lightly cuffed the back of his head, to which the former Robin responded with a firm shove. Their interaction quickly devolved into a childish tussle.
Damian gave an annoyed huff. “Don’t you two imbeciles have anything better to do?”
“Aww, we’re just here to look out for our baby brother!” Nightwing teased.
“Yeah, we gotta make sure your ghost encounter didn’t leave any lasting psychological damage!” Red Robin added.
Before Damian could retaliate for their needling, Oracle chimed in. “Uh, guys? You’re going to want to see this. Most of the footage was corrupted beyond repair, but I was able to pull some partial stills and, well…” she threw a handful of pictures up on the screen. There was artifacting marring them, but parts of the stranger were visible in each of them. Oracle magnified one that had a pretty good view of his face.
“Holy shit” Drake whispered.
Damian frowned. “What?”
“Dami, he looks like you. Just… older.” Grayson said softly.
“What are you talking about?” Damian snapped.
“Disregard the pale colouring for a second. The nose, the chin… he looks like you if you had a growth spurt,” Drake wrinkled his nose “and went through puberty.”
The commlines erupted into chaos. 
“Wait, wait, wait,” Spoiler exclaimed “are you telling me there’s an older version of Robin running around Gotham?!”
“Copy?” Batgirl inquired.
“Don’t tell me Talia cooked up Demon Brat 2.0!”
“Given that he looks older it’s more likely version 0.1 if anything,” Drake snarked, “though there’s the possibility of artificially accelerated growth rates…”
Damian had had enough. “Tt. You are ignoring the obvious - if this is some kind of supernatural entity it likely copied aspects of my appearance in an attempt to engender feelings of familiarity.” he said haughtily, pushing down the uncomfortable churning in his stomach. There was no way Mother would replace him with a cheap copy. She couldn’t! “Besides, the creature has obvious powers and neither of my bloodlines has any trace of the meta gene.”
“That’s ignoring the ghostly elephant in the room.” Grayson chimed in, “Maybe it’s a dead ancestor?”
Drake gave their older brother an annoyed look “Even a time travelling descendant from the future is more likely than that. And delivering a ‘prophecy’ to boot?”
Oracle pulled up an aged up picture of Damian next to the stranger’s, highlighting several reference points. “On closer inspection, there’s a couple of discrepancies. The cheekbones for one - Robin definitely takes after his mother, while our mystery meta looks more like… well… Robin’s grandmother on the paternal side.” she finished hesitantly. “B?”
They turned to look at Batman, who had remained silent during the whole exchange. If they hadn’t known him so well they would have thought him unaffected, but the tightening around his mouth betrayed his agitation.
“There’s no use in pointless speculation until we have more data to work from,” he growled, “Oracle, look for any reports of a meta matching the target. Since our regular methods have failed to yield results, I will contact the JLD about running tests on the letter.” He turned to Drake, “Red Robin, see what you can find on recent League activities. If this is another scheme by Ra’s or Talia we need to know about it.”
“The last thing we need is more demon spawn running around!” Red Hood groaned over the comms.
Damian was furious. This was absurd! To even indulge the possibility that that creature was in any way related to him was making him feel like he had swallowed battery acid. He was the Demon’s Heir! He was not replaceable! There was only one thing to do.
“Robin? Stop!”
He ignored his Father’s shout. He stomped over to the lab table, snatched up the envelope and broke the seal.
Nothing happened.
He unfolded the paper and saw the same handwriting that had been on the outside.
Brother of blood, brother of soul
Never buried but already mourned
In lightning and ice the scorned child returned
To strike down the Demon’s Head
With all that Death earned
Damian’s hand shook. He reread the lines over and over again, refusing to comprehend. He could feel his Father standing behind him, scrutinising the letter as well.
“Son…”
Suddenly, the paper burst into green flames, going up into smoke that dissipated unnaturally quickly.
Silence reigned for a few moments. Then…
“Well that was needlessly melodramatic” Nightwing remarked.
Part 3
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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 3 months ago
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Strings of Fate
Soulmate!au. I mess with the canon timeline for the plot. Jason's an unreliable narrator, and I practice writing the Batfamily. ~2.2k words
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Jason Todd used to love the idea of soulmates. To watch a colored string form between him and someone he's only just met– knowing that they're going to be a part of him for the rest of his life– was a rush. A thrill that made him giddy every time.
His first soulmate is Batman. He'd never had a soulmate before that alley. It had made his skin itch when he heard other kids talking about their strings, beautiful ropes tying them to loving families that had existed from the moment they were born.
But now he understood the allure, the promise of having something that was his.
He'd dropped the tire iron in shock when a shimmering blue line formed between him and Gotham's Bat. Blue. So dark it was almost black. A blue glowing string that showed a family tie, one wrapped around the index finger of his right hand. (This will haunt him later, when he starts using the same finger to pull the triggers of guns)
The string didn't stop him from trying to run, but it did stop Batman from letting him go.
There's no hiding a string from your soulmate, and Jason likes to think he took Batman removing his cowl very well. (He did not. It took a long time to trust Bruce Wayne)
His second soulmate is Alfred Pennyworth. He's hardly had time to look around the famed batcave and grapple the fact Batman's his soulmate, when his attention is drawn by an elderly man carrying a silver tray. Another blue string. Lighter than his first, it's vibrant around his right wrist.
He's never had a grandfather before, he decides he likes it when the string shimmers as he turns pages of books, when he helps stir the batter for cookies.
His third soulmate is Batgirl. She's pulled him out of the way of a stray bullet, and he thinks he goes a little starry-eyed at the purple string forming on his right forearm. A friendship string. He's never had one of those before he was Robin.
He smiles brightly at her, and he definitely swoons when Barbara Gordan smiles back, nudging him towards the fight and telling him to keep up.
His fourth soulmate is Nightwing. Jason's only been Robin for a handful of months, but he's good at it. He's quick and knows the streets like the back of his hand.
He preens under Batman's smiles and affectionate ruffles of his hair. He wants Nightwing to be proud of him, too. He wants to live up to Robin.
So, he's not exactly sure what to do with the look on Nightwing's face. There's another blue string forming around his right thumb, this one so bright it's nearly neon. Jason's nervous. He hasn't been nervous for a long time.
But, Nightwing speaks up, nodding towards Penguins goons, "Think you can handle these guys?"
"I can," he tells his soulmate confidently, because it's the truth. And even if it wasn't, he's going to impress his new brother.
Nightwing smiles at him, and Jason ignores how strained it seems, "C'mon then, kid, try to keep up."
When Jason meets Dick Grayson, weeks later, his smile is less strained, and he ruffles his hair almost the same way Batman does. It's nice, and they take turns seeing who can do the craziest trick off the training equipment in the batcave.
He likes having a brother.
Jason doesn't meet any other of his soulmates until he's dead, buried, and alive again. There's no strings around his fingers and wrists when he wakes up, and nothing seems real as he slowly relearns his body.
He follows the blue line leading him to Thalia like a puppy. It's grounding, he thinks, to have something that was his again.
Then, he meets Damian. The navy blue string that forms on his left index finger doesn't help much. It just reminds him of what he doesn't have anymore. He flinches when Thalia tells him the baby's last name. He doesn't stay in Nanda Parbat for much longer. He's not much of a soulmate anymore, anyway.
He goes by Red Hood now. He's a crime lord and a villain and the million other things the news calls him. It's almost comical, that his third soulmate of his new life is the Bat. The dark blue string reforms on his right hand, and he doesn't hesitate to pull the trigger.
His fourth soulmate in this life is his replacement. In the future, he won't be proud of the way he reacts to the royal blue string that forms on his left middle finger. But in the moment, in the middle of the hurt and the rage, he takes it out on Robin.
He takes it out on Tim Drake, and the kid just laughs in his face even with the bruises and broken bones. (It'll make bile rise in his throat one day, when he learns how many soulmates Tim Drake has lost)
His fifth soulmate in this life is Nightwing. Five is more soulmates than he's ever had. Jason hides the fresh scar on his throat under armor and leather. He doesn't say anything when Dick talks. Only listens as he's told about the frayed, grayed string that haunted his soulmates after he died.
He swallows the knot in his throat when Nightwing admits quietly that he still has nightmares over the last tug he felt from Jason's string, before watching the blue fade.
Dick tells him to go see Alfred as he stands to leave, and Jason shoves down the bile that rises over it. (He definitely doesn't end up in Blüdhaven later that month on purpose. He definitely doesn't end up working the case with his brother by choice)
His sixth soulmate is Alfred Pennyworth. He leaves the exchange with enough food to last a week and a familiar glowing blue string.
He seeks out his seventh– third– soulmate on his own. Oracle hugs him as the purple string reforms. He doesn't have the words to explain the feelings stuck on his tongue. She maneuvers the wheelchair expertly. Babs gives him a comlink to the clock tower as he's climbing out the window and tells him to keep in touch. (He won't. Not really. But he does check in.)
Jason leaves Gotham after that. He gets more purple strings wrapped around his body then he ever believed he deserved to have.
The Outlaws mean more to him than he's willing to admit, and it's harder than he expected to watch them go their separate ways. He doesn't try to fool himself into thinking they feel the same way, even when he feels the familiar tugs of their strings.
His next soulmate is unexpected. She introduces herself as Spoiler, and he eyes the purple string matching the color of her cape forming on his left bicep wearily. He tells her to stay out of his territory.
He learns quickly that Stephanie Brown doesn't listen to anyone. She brings him coffee every time he starts to think she's going to stay out of Crime Alley.
He doesn't say much back when she visits. But, if he redoubles his efforts against Black Mask when she admits she knows how weird it is to watch a soul bond reform, it's not because the string means anything. (It is)
His next soulmate nearly makes him jump out of his skin when they first meet. Batgirl. Or Black Bat. He's not really keeping track at this point. She's taken out half of the men he was fighting before he's even realized she was there. He stares at her when she pokes at the blue string connecting him to her on his left ring finger.
He prides himself on not flinching when she pats his arm and disappears into the shadows.
Cassandra Cain shows up at his apartment unannounced more often than he likes, and he definitely doesn't enjoy her presence, especially when she calls him 'baby brother'. (He doesn't really mind)
There's a new Robin hovering at the edge of his territory, and Jason recognizes the blue string between them.
"Mother told me to seek you if I ever needed anything," the kid says, and Jason doesn't miss the shake in his voice that he tries to hide.
Jason knows he's not a very good soulmate, so he's not exactly sure why Robin is here instead of with anybody else. He lets the kid hideout in his safehouse anyway, and follows Damian Wayne dutifully into a nest of Talons the next night.
If he takes a few more punches than he would on his own, it's not because his little brother had bags under his eyes, or a stomach wound he tried to hide. (It is)
His next soulmate seeks him out with a purpose. The Signal. Duke Thomas nods at him as they both watch a blue string manifest between them.
"Did you need something," Jason asks, and he definitely doesn't feel the familiar rush of a bond, of something that's home and his.
Duke just grins at him and asks if he's ever tried the chili digs on the corner of third and main. Jason's not sure why he lies and says he hasn't. They both eat enough that it makes them sluggish on patrol.
Jason's pretty sure he's faking his laughter at Duke's quips as he throws another punch at the unfortunate goons. But the number he hands Signal at the end of the night for emergencies isn't fake. (Jason tells him it's just a burner phone number. It's not the truth, and his personal phone is filled with more memes by the day)
Jason has more shades of purple and blue tied to his body than he's able to keep track of. (This is a lie) After dying a hero and becoming a crime boss only to become a vigilante, the idea of having a red string, having a partner, is something he hasn't thought about since he was a kid.
He doesn't need one, it. would only make his life difficult and the life of whoever he was tied to dangerous. So, when he meets your eyes in the streets of Gotham, surrounded by the motionless bodies of the men that tried to mug you, he freezes.
The familiar rush makes his stomach drop, and the bright red string connects his pinkie finger to yours. He blinks at you, and you blink at him. He wonders what you see.
It can't be anything good. He doesn't think any one of his soulmates saw something good when they found out they were tied to him.
It must be worse, so much worse, to know the universe thinks you're meant to love something terrible. He wavers when you step closer to him, and wonders vaguely if he should make a run for it.
You say a name, and his attention snaps back to you, "What?"
You repeat the name again and thank him for saving you. Oh. You're introducing yourself. Jason stares at you, frowns behind his mask at the uncertainty in your eyes, the nervousness and hopefulness set in your face.
"Red Hood." He says, as if it wasn't obvious. He winces silently at the way your face falls. He really is the worst soulmate, and you're a civilian. You shouldn't be mixed up with him. He might be some kind of masochist because he offers to walk you home.
He's definitely asking for trouble when he keeps showing up on your fire escape. He knows he's in trouble the first time he takes off his mask, knows he's in even more trouble when his stuff finds a home in your apartment, and yours in his.
He's waiting for things to go south when he accidentally spills that he has another soulmate to Steph over coffee on their favorite roof. Knows he's risking your safety when you're curled on his couch, and Cass comes over.
Knows the other shoe's going to drop anytime now, when you offer to dog sit Haley for his brother. Knows this is all too good to be true when Alfred offers to share his world-famous cookie recipe with you.
He's staring at the red string tied to his hand when Bruce offers him a tiny velvet box, a peace offering, Jason thinks, a show of approval for you. Not for him. He's still staring at the red string connecting him to you when you fall asleep against his chest that night.
He can't have it this good. He's never done anything that should have allowed the universe to tie him to so many people, to you. His eyes trail over the shimmering purple and blue strings. He tugs on the purple one around his right ring finger. Something soothes in his chest when Roy tugs back.
He focuses back on your string. It never really made sense to him, that whatever magic created the strings is always right about his soulmates. Even with all the ups and downs, the strings lead right back to his family, his friends, the love of his life.
Jason wants to be a good soulmate. He doesn't think he ever will. But he must be doing something okay, because you're cuddling against him and smiling in your sleep.
The myriad of shades and glowing strings eventually guide him to sleep at your side, and Jason silently promises to do his best by his soulmates. He drifts off with more vows of working up the courage to show you the little velvet box hidden in his jacket.
Part Two
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o0sleepingdead0o · 6 months ago
Text
Prepared for Anything Pt. 4
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, MasterPost
Danny folded his arms beneath his head where he lay on the desert floor. The sky blinked with stars and he was so happy he took a trip out of Gotham to do this. He liked Gotham, it felt kinda like home. But it didn’t have stars. It didn’t have the expanse of clear black pinpricked with dazzling, little lights and constellations.
It was handy being able to pop in and out of hemispheres any time he pleased.
“DANNY?!” 
Oh.
Danny rolled his head to the side to see a few violently shivering vigilantes coming around a scraggly, rocky outcrop. Robin, Red Hood, and a black and blue one Danny hadn’t encountered before, wrapped their arms around themselves tightly. They changed directions to walk towards him.                                                                                           
“Oh, hey guys.” Danny raised a hand to wave lazily at them and tucked it back in place. “What are y'all doing out here?” He asked amicably, though surmised they must be on some sort of mission. What a coincidence.
Hood and the one coloured like a bruise spluttered. “US?” Hood cried a little frenetically. As they got closer, Danny could see all their teeth were chattering and their lips were starting to turn blue. 
Oh. That wasn’t good. He had been sad Orphan wasn’t here. Maybe it was better that she wasn’t.
Hood and Robin stormed closer while Bruisy followed at a slower pace. “WHAT-T A-ARE YOU D-DOING OUT H-H-HERE?! H-HOW D-DID YOU GET OUT H-HERE?! I M-MEAN. . . .WHAT?!” Hood gestured his arms bewilderedly at him. “W-WERE T-TEN C-COUNTIRES A-AWAY F-F-FROM THE S-S-STATES!”
Danny stood up and reached under his t-shirt. “Here.” He handed Hood, Robin, and Bruisy large, reflective blankets, throwing Hood off from his rant.
“. . .wha. . .” Bruisy said. The vigilantes seemed slightly confused, but didn’t hesitate to unfold them and throw them around their shoulders.
“So?” Danny raised an eyebrow.
“Our p-plane w-wrecked.” Robin grumbled venomously.
“. . .and ex-exploded.” Hood added.
Danny hummed sympathetically. 
Robin opened his mouth again. “How are you—“
“Have you contacted. . um. . . your associates?” Danny wasn’t really sure what the vigilantes called each other or what their relations were like, but they acted like teammates. They should help each other out when things like this happened, right?
Bruise sighed. “N-no signal.” The man seemed particularly tired and out a little out of it. That really wasn’t good.
“A-and all the s-supers are o-off planet.”
“The what are where? Nevermind.” Danny waved his hand dismissively and reached over his shoulder. He ducked his head a little as he withdrew a three foot metal rod from the back of his shirt.
“Uhhhh. . .” Bruise said.
Danny pulled another rod from a sleeve and a third from his pant leg.
“H-how, dude, j-just. . .just w-why?” Hood said.
Danny didn’t answer and reached underneath the back of his shirt to pull out a fourth. He stuck them in the ground straight up, making a square.
“W-what are y-you d-doing?” Robin asked.
“Building a cell tower.” Danny said and reached into his other pant leg, taking out another rod. And another. From his pocket, he pulled out a screwdriver and some screws.
“. . .N-nothing a-about you makes-s s-sense.” Hood commented.
Danny snorted.
“Y-you’re n-n-not aff-ffected by the c-cold. W-why?” Robin’s eyes narrowed at him.
“Uhhhhh. . .” Danny attached more rods together and screwed some screws. “I, uh. . .I was working out. Warmed me up a lot.” He lied. He knew it was bad. He was still going to drive it into the ground if they questioned it. “And I haven’t been here that long.”
Danny fished a large spool of wire from his back pocket and a pair of pliers from the other.
Robin watched him do it. He stared at him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing further. “Meta-human.”
“Gesundheit.”
The reply seemed to take the vigilantes by surprise, but said nothing of it. They were too busy shivering and huddling on the ground, trying to warm up. At least they didn’t seem to be getting worse.
Danny pulled rod after rod from his clothes. He began to retrieve them from the dirt and sand before it became too many to say it was physically possible to have this many pieces on his person. He had to have limits somewhere. 
“. . .How d-did you k-know those w-were th-th-there!?” Hood said.
“Umm. . .I come here often. What if I got stranded and needed to call someone? Or I spotted a UFO and needed to make contact? I buried these in the sand so no one would steal ‘em.”
“. . . W-were in the m-middle of t-the d-desert. I d-don’t think you n-need to w-worry about th-that. . .”
“You found me, didn’t you?”
“. . .”
“. . .”
Dannykept attaching, and screwing, and wiring, and plier-ing, until he was finally at the top of a twenty-foot tower, and affixing transceivers to it. With the ectoplasm Danny infused into it, it should be powerful enough to work.
He had considered making them a jet, but that might take too long. This way they could get help from the nearest civilization while they waited for pick-up.
  Danny climbed back down.
Even with their masks, the baffled astonishment was clear on the vigilante’s faces. “What the heck. . .” Bruise said faintly.
Danny ignored him and flicked a switch. “Give it a go.” He encouraged the vigilantes who looked to be shaking a little less.
They shared doubtful glances and checked their tech. “It works!” Hood exclaimed and immediately sent out an S.O.S.
Danny made an offended noise and held a hand to his chest. “You doubted me?”
“Yes.” The three said in unison.
“It’s a cell tower.” Hood continued. “How do you even know how to build that?”
“Eh.” Danny shrugged. “You pick a few things up when your parents have a lab in their basement for you to play around in growing up.”
There was a long pause. 
“That is highly concerning and explains almost nothing.”
Danny’s brows furrowed.
“Seriously. How are you here?”
Danny shrugged again. “I walked.” It wasn’t a lie.
Despite explaining he had a way back to Gotham, the vigilantes wouldn’t leave without him. They slept most of the way back.
Tag List: @okami-love @whataspectaclebear @thomasdimensor @observerblock23 @stargazer-luna
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spidernuggets · 8 months ago
Note
Reader being Jason's girlfriend, who doesn't know about their double life, casually blurting out that she was never a fan of Batman and Robin or that she prefers Superman and the whole family is offended. 😭
love your writing, btw<3
-🪩
Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
"No, no, you're right, babe. Superman tops Batman for sure."
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"Ah, Ms. Y/n, pleasure to see you," Alfred opens the door to see you patiently waiting with a smile.
"Hey, Alfie! Is Jay home? He asked me to hang out with him today."
"He's in the living room with the rest of the family. Come in, come in," he steos to the side, giving you to room to enter.
"Oh, yeah!" You exclaimed, reaching into your bag. "I did that cookie recipe you gave me! They're not as good as yours, but they're sure better than the cookies I've made before. D'you mind taste testing for me?" You ask, handing over a tupperware full of cookies.
"I thank you for the charming remark, Ms. Y/n. I'm sure your cookies are as excellent." He says, taking a bite from a cookie.
"Nah, now you're just being too modest, Alfie," you laugh as he does too.
"Well, this is a marvellous improvement, Ms. Y/n," Alfred says, happily taking another one. "Come on now, let's go join the others."
The two of you walk towards the living room and see everyone there.
"Y/n!!" Stephanie shouts, running over to you, embracing you in a tight hug. "Ugh, it felt like forever since I've seen you! How are you 'nd Jason? Is he being an asshole like always?" She snickers.
You laugh, and before you can reply, Jason is already pushing Stephanie out of the way.
"Don't answer that, N/n. Steph, go away," he grumbles, soon putting on a smile once he stands right in front of you. "Hey, mama," he muttered, pulling you in by the waist, placing a kiss on your forhead.
You giggled at the contact. "Hey, Jay," you kissed his chin. "Hi, Bruce!" You look over Jason's shoulder, wavung to Bruce, who was sat on the armchair, looking through the newspaper.
"Y/n, always a pleasure," he says before going back to reading.
Jason takes your hand and guides you to the couch, making you sit on his lap. "Sorry I couldn't go out for our date today, sugar. Someone wouldn't let me leave," he emphasised, glaring at Bruce.
"It's scarce that everyone is here at once, Master Jason. It's a good opportunity for bonding." Alfred says behind him.
You kiss his cheek, which makes his heart race. "It's okay, Jay. It's nice hangin' out with you and your family."
"Yeah, kick his ass!" Steph shouts at the TV.
Last night's news was playing, showing footage of Batman and Robin, and their alliances, taking out some of Gotham's frequent villains and criminals.
"Do you guys always watch the news?" You asked, curious that they aren't watching something more entertaining.
You didn't notice it, but the whole family seemed to hesitate by your question.
"The news is a suitable way of keeping us informed of Gotham's latest activities. Just in case there are needs of safety plans for us," Damian says, sitting on the chair beside you, petting Titus.
"Plus, it's good to see Batman and Robin in action. Just in case there's anything they need to improve on." Bruce mutters that last statement, sending a sharo glare towards Damian, who, last night, didn't follow direct orders and backfired a section of the mission.
Damian ignored this statement and kept focusing on Titus.
You rested your head on Jason's shoulder. "Mm. I was never really a fan of Batman and Robin."
The whole room freezes, leaving the news to continue playing, and all heads turn towards you. The sudden attention had you tensed up.
"What?" You quietly ask.
"Batman and Robin are always keeping the streets clear of crime. How can you not like them?" Damian asks with a scowl on his face.
"I don't don't like them. They just don't pique my interest." You shrugged.
"Well what about their alliances," Tim asked. "Red Robin? Spoiler? Orphan? Red Hood?"
The questioning about Red Hood had Jason's full attention on you now.
"I dunno, I guess I prefer Red Hood. He's pretty cool," your unsure opinion had Jason mentally punching the air in victory.
"But.. to be honest, I kinda like Superman over all the superheroes," you smiled.
It was the calm before the storm. You didn't think a little opinion could've caused such a ruckus.
Even Bruce looked away from the newspaper annoyed.
"Why Superman? He's only so great because he has superpowers. Batman has no superpowers and can still put so many behind bars!" Bruce exclaimed.
Subtle. Jason thought.
"I'm sorry! I didn't know that you guys like these superheroes so much!" You said, almost scared that you somehow offended the family.
Jason then kisses your temple. "No, no, you're right, babe. Superman tops Batman for sure," Jason says, narrowing his eyes and sending a snarky grin towards Bruce, which, in response, he rolls his eyes and backs away from the conversation, going back to his newspaper.
"Did I say something wrong?" You quietly ask Jason as the other begin yelling at each other about which Batman ally is better.
Jason smiles, caressing your soft face with his rougher, calloused thumb. "Nah, don't worry, sweet thing. They're just mega Batman fans."
"What about you? Who's your fave?" You ask.
"Red Hood, hands down." He immediately replies.
You nod, thinking for a moment. "Okay. I wanna see more of Red Hood then. He'll be my favourite too." You say.
Jason thinks his heart just exploded. He shifts his right arms under your legs, his other supporting your back as he lifts you up, followed by a yelp coming from you.
"Get ready, babe. You're about to absolutely love Red Hood," he says, carrying you to his room, ready to go on a 5 hour lecture about Red Hood and why he's Gotham's greatest hero.
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cheriecelestial · 8 months ago
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Angel Pt.1
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pairing*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ Red Hood!Jason Todd X fem!reader
disclaimer*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ fluff. slight suggestive content (?). swearing. canon typical violence. kinda long. not proofread !
a/n*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ based on that one prompt “Wow ! You’ve grown so much since I last babysat you” “I want to rail you so bad”. Reader is like 26 and Jason is 19-20. Set in the WFA verse + joyfire are a team. Kinda non canon complacent. Smut in part II
Part II
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Under the nocturnal skyline of Gotham perched on a towering building was the vigilante anti- hero Red Hood watching, observing the city like a hunter stalking its next prey. His jacket whipped against the wind of the boisterous and animated city. He closed his eyes and listened to song of wailing sirens and the distant cries of people, ready to respond to the city's calls for help.
Gotham was a city that, much like its vigilantes, thrived in the night. The city was hued in the rapturous and vivacious of the nightlife. Neon signs flickered casting flashes of colours across the pavements of the night clubs. People scattered across the pavements like ants, some making their way home from a tiring day of work, others more aimless and leisure - their destinations less defined and indulgent. He pulled out his grapple hook gun and shot to a building a few blocks away from where his bike was parked.
In the shadowed alleyways, Red Hood felt a sinister presence stir. He kept walking without letting them know that he noticed their presence. By the footsteps, he could tell six no.. seven. Four of medium build and three a bit more burly. Judging by their lack of ability to mask their footsteps, he could guess they're amateurs. Well in all honesty, almost everyone was an amateur compared to him. Slowing his pace, Red Hood's hands instinctively moved to his holster, anticipating a potential confrontation. Nothing beat the thrill of beating up bad guys. However, amid the approaching group, he discerned another set of footsteps — urgent, lighter, tinged with fear, and most importantly heading directly toward him.
He felt someone clutch the lapel of his jacket desperately. "You're a vigilante, aren't you ? Please help me sir. I think there are bad people following me." Red Hood looked to his side and saw a woman much shorter than him and shaking like a leaf in wind. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her. It had been almost a decade since he had gazed into those warm large eyes—a fragment of his childhood that he had long relegated to oblivion. Jason Todd had what most would call a troubled childhood. Abandoned by his birth mother and the only other one he had dead from drug abuse and an even worse father who died the hands of Two Face. Tossed through the foster system, he eventually found himself on the unforgiving streets of Gotham. Amid the darkest moments of his youth, one saving grace remained —his angel,Y/N L/N. One he completely forgot about when he assumed the mantle of Robin.
"Help me please." She implored, her voice trembling and on the verge of breaking - the same one who would calm his raging storm on bad nights and tell him that he was going to be okay, and in the moment he swore he was. Her gaze shifted between the men and the vigilante, moving closer to him without realizing to shield herself from the villains in the shadows. Almost as if in a trance, he raised his gloved hand to caress her cheek as if to check if she was real or not. "Just follow my lead." He spoke in a low tone and the woman nodded frantically. His hand encircled her wrist and he started running, dragging her behind him the second he heard the thugs charge. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't think twice before starting a fight and having it his way. But he couldn't bear endangering her in the slightest so getting her to safety was the only viable option.
Her breath came in rapid gasps, and beads of sweat glistened on side of her forehead as they navigated the maze of alleyways in their path. The flickering glow of distant streetlights created fleeting glimpses of their pursuers. Her heart pounded in her chest like the strumming of a frantic drum as adrenaline pumped poisoned her veins. Jason noticed that she couldn't run fast enough to outrun the thugs with her stamina. "Sorry about what I'm about to do”,he warned in a hushed whisper and without hesitation, he lifted her over his shoulder and began running. Y/N gasped, clutching onto the vigilante for dear life. Wind ruffled her hair as she watched the vigilante leave behind their pursuers effortlessly. "You know if this vigilante thing doesn't work out you could try out for the Olympics." She muttered not realizing she said it out loud. Red Hood let out a gruff laugh, "I could but I like beating up bad guys and saving people such as yourself just a tad bit more angel." Y/N blushed at the nickname but waved it off as commonplace banter.
He set her down next to his bike. And took off his chocolate coloured jacket and draped it around her shoulders. "How could I ever thank you?" The h/c haired woman smiled at him with a smile so infectious that the corners of Jason's lips curled up without his realising under his mask. "Don't thank me just yet princess. They aren't near done." Y/N blinked in confusion and followed Red Hood's line of sight where she saw three black cars racing towards them. Her features morphed from relief to horror and alarm in the blink of an eye.The vigilante revved his bike and looked at her,"What are you waiting for?" The woman looks at the approaching cars and back at the vigilante, contemplating her options and got on the back of his bike. His hand envelops her and plants it onto his waist as if silently asking her to hold onto him. Y/N flinches at the contact as it she touched something really hot and retracted her hand.
The masked vigilante plucks a helmet out of the saddlebag and strapped it on her head."You might want to hold on angel." Y/N hums in acknowledgment and holds the grab handle behind the seat. Jason rolled his eyes at her refusal to hold onto him and revves the engine making her lurch forward and crash into his back. Realising that doing this any other way apart from his was futile, Y/N timidly encircled her arms around his waist.
The vibrations of the engine shook her whole being as he raced down the streets. The streets, trees, people blurred in her peripheral vision and she started feeling light-headed. Gathering all the morsels of courage she could find, she looked behind her to see the thugs chasing them. They hadn't lost the three cars and things just got worse when she saw a man peek his head out of the window with a fun in his hand. I'm so dying today. She clasped her hands tighter around him and pressed her face against his rigid muscular back in fear.
Sensing her unease, he looped his arm around her waist and pulled her infront of him. Y/N let out a yelp from the suddenness of the contact.
"What are you -"
"You don’t want your back facing them when they start shooting soon." Y/N looked over his shoulder to the thugs and then sunk back into and then sank back against his chest.
"You know if it makes you feel better just know this is an average Tuesday for me." Y/N blinked at him incredulously and in a small voice muttered,"It's Thursday today." A nonchalant shrug was all the answer he decided to give her. How the hell does he manage to remain calm through it? I'm on the verge of a panic attack and he's swerving as if this is a joyride in his kingdom. And in that moment if someone said that he was the king of Gotham, Y/N would find it hard to refute it.
The bike picked up speed causing the h/c haired woman to crash against his chest harshly. It was as if the pressure of the wind glued her against him. To calm herself, she decided to try concentrating elsewhere. Absentmindedly trailing the ridges of his armour and the red bat symbol on his chest. She heard whispers and rumours about Red Hood, the prince of crime, the scourge of the underworld—an outlaw employing more lethal methods against crime than Batman. Despite initial conflicts with Batman, he was acknowledged as a Bat vigilante some time ago. This man was dangerous and unpredictable then why did he feel so familiar to her ?
“I know I have god-tier pectoral muscles but I’d appreciate if you stopped distracting me like that.” Red Hood quipped, sounding almost smug at her fascination. Heat rushed into her cheeks and she quickly withdrew her hand, realising how inappropriate that must’ve felt and hastily clarified,“ I’m so sorry, I’m not a pervert I swear.” Y/N felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.
“Hold on.” Red Hood skidded the bike across the road with a loud screech, making Y/N wince at the sound of the metal scratching against the gravel. He loaded his gun with one hand still wrapped around Y/N protectively and aimed at the tires of the approaching car. “I’d suggest for you to not look at it.”Y/N averted her gaze and moments later, she heard a series of crashes and explosions.
“Jesus Christ I thought I was going to die !” She exhaled in relief. Red Hood turned his face towards her slowly and looked at her as if deadpanning through the mask,“ I’m here you know. What makes you think I’d let you die ?” He retorted taking full offence of her words. “I- I didn’t mean it like that -” she stammered, partly scared to offend the vigilante.
"Whatever I'll drop you off." Jason rolled his eyes and patted the seat behind him. Y/N hesitated, remembering her mother's warning about getting on bikes with strange men, but given her current situation, she realized it was too late to dwell on that now. With no one pursuing them, the ride felt much more pleasant. The speed and the wind against her hair seemed to turn her blood to gasoline as the air dissipated from her lungs. Adrenaline fueled activities weren't for her, at least that's what her sense of self preservation told her. Y/ N pressed her cheek against Red Hood's back. Vigilantes had a symbiotic relationship with the city and as was a common saying in Gotham "The less bats you run into the happier your life is." She knew that this encounter might be a fleeting one, so she decided to relish the moment for now.
Feelings and thoughts were long forgotten, where everything faded into the background and only her physical self exists and the dancing lights at the hazy edges of her vision offered an intoxicating taste of freedom that was indescribable — stripped of obligations, responsibilities and consequences.
Y/N almost doesn’t notice when he stopped the bike. “Do you plan on holding onto me for long ? Not that I mind but we’re here.” Red Hood hopped off the bike and Y/N took off her helmet and hung it onto the handlebar. She scanned her surroundings, they were in front of a five star hotel with sports cars parked on either side of of the road. “Why are we here ?” The woman asked following behind the masked vigilante. “Well for one I don’t know your address so I can’t drop you home and second it’s too late so you should stay the night at a hotel and go home in the morning. It’s safer that way.” Y/N stared at him in disbelief,“ But I don’t have the kind of money to rent a room in a place like this.” Red Hood retrieved a key card from his pocket and placed it on her palm,“Who said anything about paying ?” The h/c haired took it reluctantly and slowly walked to the entrance of the hotel, looking back at him again and again. It wasn’t until she was inside the hotel that she saw him drive off. Y/N walked to the concierge desk and showed her the card. The receptionist eyed her with suspicion considering how she looked so out of place compared to her opulent setting. “Please fill this form. It’s for security purposes.”
The form asked things like her address and her phone number. As reluctant as she was, the receptionist looked like she wasn’t letting her through unless she filled it. Wary of the dangers of misuse of information, Y/N tried to keep her responses as brief as possible. Paranoia was the best friend of a Gothamite considering everything that went down in this hellhole. It was good to always assume the worse and subsequently prepare for it.
The receptionist offered her a tight smile and walked her to the suite. Calling it a suite was an understatement since it was the penthouse on top of the hotel. Just how rich is this guy ? Y/N assumed that the house was a property he didn’t live in because the place lacked personal touch. Either that or he was a real minimalist which was unlikely considering bat vigilantes’ love for theatrics. Y/N wondered if all the bat vigilantes were like a huge family with Batman as papa bat. Where would Red Hood fall in the hierarchy ? If she were to guess, she’d say he was probably the black sheep of the family. Y/N looked around the house, it was one straight out of architectural digests with its high ceilings and cool grey and white interior. She looked at the time and decided it was best if she hit the shower and go to bed and finally put an end to this crazy day.
Jason Todd checked into the hotel the next morning and was greeted by the overly friendly receptionist, personally he didn’t mind fangirls but anyone with even half a braincell knew the risks of being a vigilante groupie. She passed him the form that Y/N filled. He couldn’t help but smile at the form. Filling her work address and a phone number both which were most likely false give the conspicuous number of 7’s in the number ? She’s smarter than most civilians, he’d give her that. The penthouse looked almost unhampered with. His jacket was neatly folded on the dining table with a note reading “Thank you so much for saving me. Regards.” The tone of the note was clear ‘I appreciate you saving me but I hope we never meet again.’ Jason pocketed the note and left the penthouse. Fates had been kind enough to reunite him with his angel and he’d be damned if he let her get away .
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“Yoohoo Y/N to earth. Anybody home ?”Y/N’s coworker snapped her fingers in front her face, snapping her out of her reverie. “Sorry about that Steph.” Y/N apologised with an awkward laugh. Stephanie Brown, albeit several years younger, was one of Y/N’s closest friends. She was a bubbly and cheerful soul anyone could tell that by the first impression she projected.
Since the night almost a week ago with the mysterious vigilante, Y/N often found her thoughts plagued by him. Curiosity of where he would be or what he would be doing right now. Her eyes often looked for any news of him while watching the news. I really have to stop thinking about him, even though they lived in the same city, the odds of them running into each other were minute.
The door opened and the bell on top of it clanged, announcing the arrival of a customer. “Mornin’ ladies.” The customer greeted. Y/N turned her attention at the newcomer at the counter. “Good morning detective !” she greeted the customer with a bright smile.
Dick Grayson served as a police officer under the GCPD and was one of the cafe’s frequents. From experiences of her own childhood, Y/N consider the police nothing but corrupt individuals on payroll of powerful people who bullied those weaker than them. But detective Grayson was one of the good and honest ones. He played a massive role in restoring Y/N’s faith that there were those in the police force who could be relied upon and ones that fought for a better Gotham.
"I'll go with the..." he glanced at the menu, a ritual he often performed. "the regular?" Y/N finished his sentence. He responded with a smile, revealing his dimples. "I never understand why you bother with the menu when you always order the same thing," she remarked. He shrugged nonchalantly, as if saying 'who knows.' A smile crept onto her face as she made his order.
“So how’s everything with the family ?” Y/N asked, making small talk. Beyond his consistent ordering and punctual 9:00 AM café visits, he frequently shared his sibling issues. "Oh, where do I begin? My brother is acting up, yet again. He pulled some crap about a week ago. He broke one of Dad’s rules, even though he said he did it to help someone but Dad was just not having it."
“ Which one ? The cool rebellious one or the little gremlin one ?” Y/N laughed sympathetically. She didn’t feel the need to probe and ask much but she always lent an ear to a friend so naturally she knew them by characteristics and not by name. From what she knew, Dick Grayson had three younger brothers - the broody rebellious one, the caffein addict smartass and the 4 foot gremlin edgelord from hell.
“The rebellious one.” he sighed wearily. Y/N placed his order on the counter, including a small pack of cookies. “On the house. You could use some sugar anyway. They’re free testers before we put them on the menu.” Dick accepted the coffee and cookie packet, flashing a bright smile. “Thank you so much. You’re an angel.” An odd feeling resonated within her when Dick called her that. That’s what Red Hood called her. Somehow the way the word rolled off his tongue seemed so different compared to when anyone else said it.
“Hey Dick do you mind if I ask you something ?” Dick nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “What do you know about the Red Hood ?”
Dick choked on his drink and burst into a fit of coughs. It took him a while to compose himself. “He’s alright. I mean he does help the GCPD I guess but he’s too unpredictable and we don’t exactly approve of his methods. He doesn’t hurt innocents but he’s bad news. Why do you ask ?”
“No reason.”Y/N brushed off the inquiry, and although Dick seemed skeptical, he left after leaving a tip. There. Is your curiosity satiated ? Even Dick said he’s bad news now can we stop thinking about him ? Her inner conscience reprimanded her.
Y/N's weary steps echoed in the quiet street as she walked home from work at night. The flickering light from the street lights streetlights casted long almost sentient looking shadows. Her thoughts — a mix of the day's challenges, the longing for the comfort of home blurred into oblivion when a strange chill crept up her spine with a sense of foreboding. Cautious of her surroundings, Y/N constantly kept watch around herself. Just a few yards before her apartment building, she heard their neighbourhood strays agitatedly hiss to something near the dumpster. Not wanting to get involved in whatever trouble Gotham had brought to her feet, she fastened her pace. Suddenly, a flash of vibrant red —the same shade she had been secretly craving to see in the past week, caught her eye.
“Red Hood ?” Y/N stepped into the shadows cautiously as if ready to flee at the first signs of trouble.
“Angel ?” He asked gruffly. Y/N walked closer and found him against the wall, clutching his side. His wound wasn’t a death sentence but needed to be tended to quickly. Her eyes widened in horror when she noticed the crimson coating his fingers,“You’re hurt !”
“ ‘Tis but a scratch m’lady.” He let out a pained laugh seeming to ease her nerves. “We need to get that treated.” Y/N urged. She knew that vigilantes couldn’t just walked into hospitals to get patched up because of the whole secret identity thing. And she also knew that taking it upon herself to treat him would go against every plan of self preservation she had. But she owed him his life. I’ll pay off my debt and we’ll never meet again. Y/N mentally decided and looked at him with newfound determination in her eyes. “My apartment is just upstairs. I have a first aid kit. Come with me.”
Red Hood gazed at her, momentarily lost in thought, then lifted his other hand to gently stroke her cheek. Y/N flinched at his touch, making him withdraw his hand. “Sorry I thought I was hallucinating you because from the blood loss. ” He admitted meekly. Y/N sighed and placed his hand over her shoulder. “Can you stand?” The masked vigilante nodded, rising slowly with a grunt.
Swallowing her rising concern, she brought him to her house and beckoned him towards her couch. Red Hood’s every step betrayed a hint of discomfort, his grimace almost visible even behind that signature mask. The second he dropped on her couch, she disappeared. He caught flashes of her running around the house like a busy bee at work. In seconds, she produced a first-aid kit and knelt next to him. “Lift your shirt.” She maintained her clinical tone, but the concern was evident with her eyes trained on the wound.
“Angel you know if you wanted to –” Jason started with a cheeky tone but was cut off by a stern glare, “Ahem yes ma’am”
Y/N breath hitched every so slightly when she saw the injury. It didn’t look like a bullet wound, the malformed spindle shape resembled a stab wound. “I’m sorry I don’t have any anaesthetic.” She didn’t look up from the wound as her cotton swab glided over the grevions injury. Shifting her elbow to his other hand on his thigh, Red Hood tilted his head seemingly questioning her,“ You can hold my arm and squeeze it if it hurts. I’ve heard that helps.”
“Appreciate the gesture angel but I’m pretty sure I’d snap your arm in half if I did.” His tone was both dismissive and endearing. Y/N didn’t insist, given his strength what he said was probably true. Vigilantes were exceptionally trained, surpassing conventional human limits. Unlike the caped metahuman from Metropolis, the bat vigilantes were more cryptid in nature. None would be where they came from and where they went. Invulnerable and insurmountable. Despite him being in a position that would render others vulnerable, he appeared unfazed, akin to a wounded yet formidable beast. There was a natural aura of dominance and power about him. They don’t call him the Prince of Gotham for no reason that’s for sure.
“You’re good at this. Like one of the best I’ve seen.” He spoke up, seemingly trying to come off as capable of being civil. “Well three years of med school. Some stitching is the least I can do.” She explained. Red Hood visible froze for a good second and inquired,“ You’re a doctor ?”
Y/N scoffed,“ Look around. Do I look like one ?” Red Hood looked around her apartment. Although well maintained, an ode to her efforts, the apartment was old and almost pitiful . Most of the furniture looked second hand and cheap. The curtain rods were rusted and the paint was peeling off from the walls with damp spots on the ceilings.
“You dropped out ?” He guessed. “Yeah. Couldn’t afford it.” She chuckled bitterly.
“Didn’t they offer scholarships or something ?” Jason was aware of Wayne Enterprises’ scholarship programs for talented students. When Bruce took him in, he assured Jason that if Y/N met the criteria, she would be enrolled in the program. Y/N’s intellect had always impressed Jason since childhood, he remembered that she would often sneak into libraries and memorise books worth of stories to recite them to Jason to help him sleep. There was just no way she wouldn’t be accepted into the program.
“They did but that didn’t pay bills. I needed to find a job to pay for my mom’s hospital bills.” She kept her response short, clearly not wanting to delve deep into the topic. “Work for me.” The statement was like a whiplash for Y/N. Work for him ? There weren’t many things Y/N had to take a double take for but this proposition was entirely unexpected. It caught her off guard, she stared at him incredulously with widened eyes. Red Hood was know for operating in the gray areas between legality and criminality and wasn’t exactly your quintessential example of a righteous lawful hero.
“Not in the way you’re imagining.” He hooked his free hand under her chin, gently closing her agape mouth. His tone was soft and reassuring,“ I’ve been meaning to find a backstreet surgeon to stitch me up. Comes in handy for a guy like me. I’m sure you understand angel.”
“B-but why me ?”Y/N stuttered, avoiding eye contact as her nerves threatened to overwhelm her. She could feel a chill of nervousness and panic creep up her spine. What if he got angry if she refused ? Jason noticed the change in the air around her and the stiffening of her muscles in panic that she was clearly trying to hide from him.
“Because you’re convenient. Your place is easy to get in and out of undetected, you’re talented and most of all —“ He gently lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Y/N let out a shuddered breath as Red Hood stroked her cheek with the back of his gloved hand. “— you fear me enough to not go around squeaking to the wrong people about me. No ?” Jason couldn’t help but relish in the reaction he elicited to the feeling of the leather gliding against her cheek in a silken featherlight touch. How adorable.
Y/N swallowed nervously before nodding slowly. A beat of silence passed and she let out a small sigh, recollecting herself and weighing her options. “How much are we talking ?” She asked him in a low voice. Jason could hardly contain his excitement, grinning wildly under his mask. A sense of pride washed over him as her first question after his offer focused on the financial aspect.
“Let’s see how about 2 grand a month ? Too less ? 3 grand ? 3.5 ? That enough ?”he suggested eagerly. Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief, almost bulging from their sockets. Without waiting for her response, he added, “Plus, there’ll be extra incentives when I’m feeling generous.”
“All that for some stitching ? There has to be a catch.” She reasoned. It seemed implausible that he would offer such a substantial sum for such a minor task. Jason chuckled," You’re smart. I like that in a woman. And to answer your question, it’s not just stitching. It’s about your discretion and loyalty. It’s a complete package. Plus that sort of money is pretty much pocket change to me.”
“And if I were to betray your trust ?” Y/N asked in a hypothetical sense, of course she had more sense than to betray someone of his stature and power. “Do you really want me to answer that ?” He countered sounding equal parts smug and menacing. Y/N shook her head in negation and continued stitching his wound. The process of stitching became a meditative rhythm - the needle piercing the skin, the pull of the thread, the knotting, and the slight twitch of Red Hood’s muscles with each stitch.
“I’ll take it.” She muttered. Jason was grateful for his mask and injury otherwise, he might have been unable to hide his urge to jump up and punch air in celebration. Agreeing to his proposition marked just the beginning of his grand plan for making Y/N his and for now, everything unfolded according to his wishes and he couldn’t be happier.
Y/N wrapped gauze around the wound and secured it with a metal clip. “Normally I’d suggest a few days’ rest but I have a feeling there’s no point in saying.” Red Hood commented with a shrug as he inspected the injury. Y/N rose and fetched him a glass of water from the kitchen, setting it on the table. “If you’re trying to get me to remove my helmet, it won’t work.” he remarked. As much as his distrust stung, Y/N rationalised that it was typical for someone like him.
She retrieved a scarf from the coat rack, folded it and tied it around her eyes before taking a seat on the edge of the couch, keeping a respectable distance from the masked vigilante. "What's with the blindfold angel ?" Red Hood asked, his tone tinged with amusement.
"Isn't trust earned through actions?" she responded. Y/N heard the thud of his helmet being placed on the table. Jason seemed genuinely impressed by her gesture. His gaze lingered on her figure as she remained motionless, noting how much she had changed since his childhood memory. Yet her kindness to those in need while still keeping herself guarded from those who would abuse it still remained unchanged. Jason’s hand twitched with the impulse to touch her. To hold her. He wondered how her face would look in his palms with her bare body melded against his own.
“ ‘Suppose it is.” Jason chuckled as he downed the glass of water and put his helmet back on. “I’m finished. You can remove that blindfold now, although it does look adorable on you.” He noticed her chest rise with a sudden hitch, and her cheeks flush red. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed, knowing the other implications blindfolds carried. As she removed the scarf and looked around, Red Hood had vanished without a trace. Her window was open and it was as if disappeared into the wind just as he came. She got why the bat vigilantes were often likened to cryptid beings and phantoms. Y/N was left to ponder over the events that had unfolded. Under the glass of water she offered him three hundred dollar bills were tucked. “I suppose I’m now working for the Prince of Gotham now.” Y/N mused to herself, realizing her attempt to avoid getting involved had failed miserably.
Jason's parents engaged in another round of screaming matches, this time he decided he’d had enough and thought of running away. Despite previous fleeting thoughts of escape, each time night fell — he faced the harsh reality of lacking sustenance and shelter. Convinced that the streets offered a marginally preferable refuge to the shithole he was force to call home, he wandered aimlessly till he found himself at the dumpster of a bakery. He knew shops like those threw away left overs even though they could’ve given them out — Jason saw it as a glaring manifestation of selfishness of adults.
He hid behind the dumpster and waited for someone to come and throw away the leftovers. After waiting for almost half an hour, the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Glancing cautiously from his hiding spot, Jason spotted a young waitress walking out. She was likely just a few years older than himself, a middle school or a high school student maybe, he thought to himself. As she approached to dispose of the food, she paused midway. No way did she see him ? Jason shrank back against a cardboard box, hoping she wouldn’t notice him.
“Hey kid you can come out. I already saw you.” the waitress said softly. Jason slowly crawled out and approached her. He eyed the tray of leftovers in her hand, wondering if he could snatch them and escape quickly enough ? The waitress seemed to notice this and raised the tray above his reach. “Against bakery policies kid. Where are your parents ?” She asked. Of course she wouldn't be generous enough to offer him any. In his mind, all adults were rotten to the core and selfish —why would she be any different ?
Jason scoffed,“ Does it matter ?” His statement was met with a sigh from the waitress, her expression conveying annoyance, a scene all too familiar to him. Bracing himself he said,“ Just do it already. I’ve had it from guys thrice your size.” Jason was well acquainted with the drill with diner employees — catch a few shoves and slaps, pretend to go away and wait for them to leave and then come back pick up the food.
He shut his eyes and waited for her to slap and swear at him to drive him away like everyone else. Yet moments passed but the expected blow never came. Instead, Jason felt a gentle pat on his head and looked up to see her smiling empathetically, though her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. Wondering why she seemed so melancholic, he accepted the loaf of bread she offered and wolfed it down. “Won’t you get in trouble for this ?” He asked. With a forced laugh she admitted,“ I probably will but I can’t let a kid hungry now can I ?”
“I won’t tell anyone.” The young boy promised earnestly and she returned his smile. His gaze fell upon her nametag—Y/N L/N. Maybe not all adults are bad.
It had been barely four days since she last saw him that she heard from him again. In the dead of night, her doorbell rang. She approached the door cautiously and grabbed a baseball bat from the umbrella rack as a just in case. She didn’t hear any movement on the other side of the door so she cautiously opened the door, peering out. To her surprise, she found only a small, shoddily wrapped parcel resting on the floor with her name written in red.
There was no one except a small poorly wrapped parcel on floor with her name on it. Retrieving it, she carried it inside. Within the parcel lay a modest yet exquisite golden necklace accompanied by a handwritten instruction manual. Observing it she realised it was one of those necklaces that acted as an SOS signal. The parcel also contained a big folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, she discovered a map of Gotham City with specific locations ominously marked in red and the stark warning “DO NOT GO” emblazoned in bold letters. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtful gesture, maybe this is not all that bad.
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Over the following days, Red Hood would appear unannounced giving Y/N enough jumpscares for lifetime, when she would walk into her living room and find him bleeding out on her couch. He wasn’t much of a talker which wasn’t a surprise.
His injuries presented a variety of shapes and sizes each time he visited, but recently, his injuries bore uncanny resemblance the markings of knife wounds. Some were superficial, while others cut deeper. However, considering the depth, placement, and angles, Y/N questioned whether they were the result of his typical fights. "Are you testing my loyalty? Seeing if I'll betray you?" Y/N clenched her teeth with silvers of anger and frustration glinting in her eyes. Red Hood appeared slightly taken aback but remained silent in response to her outburst. "Do you really think I wouldn't notice ? Either that certain type of knife has become Gotham’s thugs number one choice or you're doing this to yourself. Why ?" She pressed further.
“ I knew I shouldn’t have made it so obvious.”Jason wasn’t accustomed to others fussing over his safety. Typically he received, at most a pat on the back from those who worked alongside him, knowing he had endured much worse and could handle it. Her anger and frustration hinted at concern, echoing the tone when he would go and pick fights with boys twice his size.
“What’s that supposed to mean ?”
Red Hood let out a sigh and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Listen, I enjoy spending time with you and I wouldn’t bother coming unless I needed medical attention. So you know —"
“— So you cut yourself ? To hang out with me ? What’s wrong with you ? What if you actually got into a fight with those injuries ? What if you got hurt for real ? You could really get hurt. How could you do that to yourself ? ”
Jason lowered his head in remorse, realizing he hadn't fully considered his actions. Despite understanding her perspective and acknowledging the wrong in purposefully hurting himself for her attention, he couldn't deny a secret sense of satisfaction. "I’m so sorry," he muttered his apology, genuinely meaning every word. Y/N released an exasperated sigh and took a moment to compose herself before speaking again. "Next time, just ask. It's not that complicated."
Jason's head lifted with hopeful curiosity, resembling a puppy eager for a treat. " I can do that ?" he asked tentatively, unsure if her words were genuine. Jason blinks, and then smiles. Her words cause something to stir within him, a sensation of warmth and affection he hasn't felt in a while. Y/N nodded and got up to dispose of the bloody cotton swabs in the kitchen. Jason’s eyes followed her eyes, watching closely and to see if she was still mad at him. Y/N was a pretty forgiving person but in all honesty, he did mess up pretty bad. She returned and settled back down with a sigh, causing a slight nervous flutter in Jason. “So what do vigilantes when they’re not fighting bad guys ?” Y/N initiated as an icebreaker, much to Jason’s relief. It’s not like he could say ‘hey I’m in love with you please hang out with me with marriage in mind’. Wait marriage ? Where did that come from ? Images of Y/N in a white gown walking down an isle flashed through his mind. Y/N Todd. That had a nice ring to it, Jason mused silently. He had heard that Bali was a popular honeymoon destination but Y/N once told him that she always wanted to see the stargazing so the Atacama desert isn’t a bad destination either.
“Um earth to Red. You still here ?” Y/N waved her hand in front of Jason who seemed to have spaced out.
“Red ?”Jason asked sounding positively amused by the unexpected nickname. She shrugged and replied,“ Calling you Red Hood seemed too long, so Red it is. Not very creative, I know.”
Jason chuckled,“ I’ll allow it. And to answer your question, vigilantes don't have much time for leisure. When we're not fighting, we’re either training or passed the fuck out from exhaustion.” Y/N felt tired just hearing that, understanding the reasoning behind it, but the question remained: he wasn’t wasting time by being here, was he ?
“Seems like there’s no room for hobbies?” Y/N quipped, eliciting another soft laugh from Jason as he visibly relaxed. "I suppose so but pros can squeeze in time for special things here and there." he replied, his voice still quiet but now tinged with a smile. His body language seemed brighter and happier, and for the first time since she saw him actually looking relaxed.
Y/N reached for the TV remote, flipping through channels before tossing it onto his lap and standing up. “I’m going to fix myself something. Do you want anything?” she asked politely. Jason shook his head, declining, “I’m good.” Y/N walked to the kitchen and started making herself popcorn. What sort of movies and tv shows would vigilantes enjoy ? She guessed they might lean towards crime-related or action-packed content, but then remembered her friends’ complaints about the inaccuracy of such portrayals.
“Seriously Janet ?! There’s no way you’re picking that dress. Just cuz it would look good on Jessica doesn’t mean it would suit you ! I can hear the wails of the colour theory all the way from here.” Jason shook his head, sounding genuinely disappointed. He probably didn’t even notice Y/N shuffling closer to the television, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. So I guess that answers my question.
“That’s an interesting choice.”
Jason rolled his eyes and diverted his attention back to the television again. “What ? Can’t a man enjoy some good entertainment ?” He retorted. Y/N laughed lightly dismissing his remark,” No no it’s not that. Personally I’m more of a k-drama and anime girlie but I hold nothing against reality tv.” He nodded in acknowledgment of her preferences and resumed watching. Sitting beside him, Y/N observed as he commented on almost everything the people on TV said, finding herself amused by how much more entertaining his live commentary was compared to the actual show.
Minutes rolled by and after almost a couple hours, Y/N got up to go use the washroom and when she returned he had vanished once again, as was his habit. A small note lay where he had sat on her couch earlier. She picked it up and read, “Had a great time. Thanks for today - R” Y/N chuckled and shook her head, Damn these bats and their theatrics.
Jason would show up every three four days, most of the time unharmed thankfully. The two would do a variety of things like watching movies and tv shows together, playing board games and video games and just talking in general. At first it was just discussing their common interests but eventually he would sporadically divulged minor, unimportant details about himself. Some things she was able to piece together were that one, the bat vigilantes was a dysfunctional family with Batman as their patriarch. Second, the Red Hood worked alongside Starfire and Arsenal as his teammates. And third, that he had to be the biggest classic literature nerd she had come across.
“What do you mean your best friend tried to set you on fire while you were taking a shower ?! Didn’t you like lock the door or something ?”
“Locked doors don’t really do much to people like us angel.”
“So who’s your favourite bat sibling ?” Jason fell silent at her question, contemplating the answer. “Well that’s a tough question. I have my set of challenges and grudges with all of them. We’ve tried to kill each other atleast once. More so with my brothers than the girls. I’d say I get along pretty well with spoiler and batgirl. And if you ask about my brothers, I’d say Nightwing. He’s the funny nice one, Red Robin’s the smart, loyal one and Robin is the little obnoxious one.”
Y/N chuckled,“ Guess the article checks out.”
“What article ?” Jason asked curiously. Most of his intel came from law enforcement agencies databases, informants, surveillance technology, his fellow vigilantes and his own investigative work so he didn’t really feel the need to keep up with the cheesy articles in Gazette.
“The cinnamon roll tier list !” Y/N’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.
“The what now ?”
“So there’s this popular meme going online,”she started to explain,“ so there are four categories - first, looks like a cinnamon roll, is a cinnamon roll. In that category are the signal, the spoiler and nightwing. Second, looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you. That one is for Red Robin and the Robin. Third, looks like could kill you but is a cinnamon roll, that one is for Batgirl and the last is -” she paused because she knew the next tier on the list might potentially sting him.
“Looks like could kill you and would kill you ? Let me guess that’s one for me ?” Jason chuckled humorlessly, fully aware of the kind of reputation that preceded him. He wondered if she held the same perception of him. Y/N remained silent, neither confirming nor denying his statement.
"You know, you don't need to constantly worry about offending me. Believe me, I've heard far worse than anything your pretty mouth could say to me." Y/N couldn't help but feel upset, while his words were true, there was more to it than that. She wanted to express that she wasn't entirely afraid of him, but that wasn't entirely true either.
“Anyways – ”She interjected, clapping her hands once to shift the flow of the conversation,“ I got a new video game from a friend. Let me go get it. DO NOT DISAPPEAR. I’m serious it’s creepy.” Jason responded with her a cheeky salute,“ Yes ma’am.” Y/N disappeared into the bedroom briefly and returned with the DVD. When she came back she noticed Jason had reclined on the couch, appearing to have dozed off.
“Red ?” she asked softly, approaching him. She tried to get his attention again, but he remained unresponsive. He must’ve fallen asleep, she figured remembering what he said about his schedule. Retrieving a blanket from the side of the couch, she gently covered him. She sat there for a while, observing him as he slept. Watching him like this felt natural and familiar. Leaning back on the couch herself, she tried to unwind in the peaceful silence. Y/N couldn't help but admire him and all that he had achieved. Finding a friend in such an extraordinary circumstance was something she had never anticipated.
After a while, a somewhat wicked notion crept into her mind. She tried to shush the voice. Hanging out with Stephanie was sure working its magic, she thought to herself. It was a harmless little prank really, surely he wouldn’t mind. Against all logic and rationale, she decided entertained the idea. Tiptoeing to her closet, she retrieved the item from her closet and cautiously returned, double-checking if he was asleep. Here goes nothing.
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natalievoncatte · 13 days ago
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31. Spookycorp
(Yes I know it’s late. I have a permit. I can do what I want.)
Lena adjusted her cheap plastic tiara, which she’d had chosen herself at a Spirit Halloween. Though she would never admit it, Lena felt giddy when she went shopping now. She used to just send Jess or use a high end shopping service; Lena Luthor had neither the time nor the patience to fumble with checkout lines and coupons, but post-L-Corp Lena, private citizen Lena, head of a charity org and retired from corporate sharkery Lena delighted in it. In a sweater and leggings with her hair in a simple ponytail and glasses not contacts, she felt human. Normal.
Her costume was simple, the tiara and a goofy floofy mini dress she’d picked up at a thrift store, and a wand to top it all off. Kara recognized her immediately.
“Let me guess, a good witch?”
Lena stood in the door and beamed, nudging her glasses. She was still getting used to them every day but her therapist had insisted she stick with the changes she made.
(The penthouse was going on the market and she was selling her Louboutins. Most of her Louboutins. She was finally telling that little voice in her head that sounded like Lillian to SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU’RE NOT MY MOTHER whenever it admonished her about not being perfect enough)
Kara was dressed in an all-green ensemble with a pointed hat resting on her head and a cheesy plastic bow on her back.
“Robin Hood?”
“Of Locksley,” Kara bowed.
(If I’d know, I’d have dressed as Maid Marian.)
She beckoned Lena to enter in an expensive gesture and watched her step inside, her gaze lingering in a way that made Lena tingle all over, goose flesh rising on her arms. She hopped up onto a stool and smiled when Kara handed her a beer.
“They make pumpkin spice beer now?”
“Mmmm,” Kara said, nursing her own. Lena’s eyes widened when Kara tipped a flask into it; a sticker on the side read Not For Humans.
“Just a little to loosen me up,” said Kara. “It’s a party.”
Kara sat down on the other side of the table and just… looked at her. She looked at Lena with her chin resting on her fist and a soft distant look on her face, and Lena stared back just as intently, entranced by the way her sunny curls escaped her sloppy ponytail and framed her face.
The spell, as it were, was broken by a knock at the door. The snacks were coming, an absurdly huge order that Lena had placed while she was on her way. As the bewildered delivery boy accepted her excessive tip, Kara carried the bags into the apartment, and together they began laying it all out on the kitchen island.
Brainy and Nia were the first to arrive. They wore matching silver body suits and Nia had put on a gloss of green makeup: Querl simply disabled his image inducer.
“We’re aliens!” Nia chirped. “Lena I love your outfit! Wait is Kara Robin Hood? Lena, why aren’t you Maid Marian?”
Lena froze, suddenly aware of Kara’s tense presence beside her. She didn’t dare turn her head and gauge Kara’s reaction.
“Did you purchase every potsticker in National City?” Brainy asked, almost pointedly snapping the tension.
Kara laughed. “I think Lena just wants to keep me from eating everything else.”
Alex and Kelly also showed up in marching costumes, making the moment even more awkward. They were married, of course, so they were supposed to coordinate.
Alex strutted into the apartment, grinning, and threw back the cowl of her Batman costume, as Kelly rolled her eyes behind the mask of her Catwoman outfit.
“That’s cute,” said Kara. “Did you guys like flip a coin to decide who was who?”
Alex poked the gray fabric over her stomach. “You know what, Kara? Sometimes I want people to know I have abs too. And unlike some people I have to work for mine.”
Kara poked out her tongue and shoved a beer in her hand as Kelly pulled Lena into a hug.
After a toast to James, and J’onn, and Winn, and absent friends, Kara started the first movie of their marathon. Each couple had selected one film, and Alex’s selection went first: a really weird movie called The Keep.
“This was originally three hours long before the studio butchered it, but it’s still a classic,” Alex explained. “It’s Michael Mann’s only horror movie.”
Lena found it largely incomprehensible and not very scary, and there were some scenes, especially the nonsensical sex scene, that made the experience a tad awkward.
“If I was in an ancient castle in Carpathia and the crosses in the wall started glowing, I would not mess with them.” said Kara.
“Yes you would,” Alex snorted. “Your approach to danger is to shove you arm in it.”
Kara drained her beer and rolled her eyes. Lena glanced over at her and giggled, nursing the last of hers.
“Want another one?”
Lena nodded, and Kara got up to get them more drinks. Lena lost interest in the movie as she watched Kara cross the apartment and bend low to grab two more bottles from the bottom shelf of the fridge, bending at the hips. The bottom of her tunic pulled up over her muscular backside and the buns of steel strained her green leggings.
(She would annihilate me with a strap)
When Kara stood up, Lena snapped her gaze around and found everyone staring at her, Nia suppressing a giggle. They all looked endlessly amused, except Brainy, who had a self-satisfied smirk, as if he’d beaten her at chess.
Kara sat down and passed the cold beer to Lena, saying, “these movies would be scarier if they didn’t all have a bad guy I could just toss into space.”
She looked at Lena and raised her arm to curl her bicep.
Lena felt her soul almost leave her body and took a drink from her beer to hide the shivers.
The movie ended and Nia jumped up to put on her selection, which she proudly announced to the group. “ARMY OF DARKNESSSSS!” she shouted, clapping her hands.
Lena hasn’t seen this before and even though there was a ten minute prologue explaining what the hell it was about, Lena finally just decided to stop caring about the plot and just go along for the ride.
Kara had apparently seen it and she and Nia went back and forth quoting the dialogue back and forth at each other and gobbling snacks. Alex and Kelly seemed more interested in each other and had gone fairly quiet.
Lena was more interested in Kara. Her joy was infectious, especially after a third beer.
It was getting cool in the apartment by the time they were ready for the final movie, and Lena’s outfit was hardly warm. Kara felt her shiver and got up, coming back with a stack of blankets, which the others accepted.
Kara then took her cape and spread it over Lena. The fabric was stout and heavy and lay warmly about her as she tucked it under her chin.
“Uh oh,” said Alex. “Lena gets the Superblankie.”
“Oh, shut up,” Kara said.
“Lena always gets the Superblankie,” Nia agreed.
“Guys!” Kara said, sounding a little panicked.
“Start the movie already,” Kelly yawned, breaking the tension.
Kara put on the final movie, her choice: Bram Stoker’s Dracula.
No one remarked that for movie choosing purposes, Lena and Kara had been expected to act as a couple. Kara sat down on the sofa with Lena and pulled the cape around them both, tucking them tightly together and sharing her blessed, glorious body heat. Kara ran about three or four degrees hotter than a baseline human and it made her a living space heater. Lena adored it.
She adored a lot of things about Kara, like her laugh and her smile and that funny little scar, the only imperfection on her invulnerable body. She adored the way her blue eyes glittered like sapphires in the dark apartment, and the soft pillow of her bottom lip and her big strong hands and the way she was always laying a protective arm across Lena’s shoulders, making her feel so safe and…
Lena turned her attention to the movie. It was a comfort choice of hers and she knew it by heart, so it was easy to relax into Kara and not worry too hard about how much she was utterly, irrevocably, cruelly in love with her unattainable best friend.
The apartment was quiet. Lena was fairly sure that Alex was asleep and Kelly was mellow, too entranced with her new wife to care about anything else, and the way that Brainy and Nia were tucked under their blanket and whispering to each other made Lena hot with jealousy.
Kara’s chest hitched and Lena turned to her sharply.
“What is it, darling?” she murmured.
“Nothing,” Kara lied, then whispered. “This is so sad.”
She took Lena’s hand and Lena almost died on the spot, and it got worse when Kara nuzzled her chin into the crook of Lena’s shoulder.
Out of nowhere, half an hour later, Kara murmured, “if I lost you I think I’d become a monster too.”
Lena flinched, then turned to her. Kara was looking at her with big puppy dog eyes and that crooked little smile of hers, at once an honest smile and a smile for the keeping of secrets.
Everyone else was asleep, and would probably stay that way until morning.
“Kara,” Lena whispered.
Kara took it as an invitation, gently shifting so that Lena was now in her lap, and tucked Lena under her chin. She wrapped her arms around her and just breathed, chest gently rising and falling against her.
“I want you to know how sorry I am for all the things I’ve done,” Kara whispered into the top of her head. “I’ve never told you, I was gone before I could and after I got back I was scared.”
“Kara,” Lena murmured back, “darling, it’s alright.”
“I was so scared when I was there,” Kara said, not daring to name the Phantom Zone. “That place messes with time. I was terrified that if I ever got back you’d all be gone. You would be gone. I was so afraid it hurt.”
Lena went still, just listening.
“I’m so sorry, baby. You deserve better than me.”
“No I don’t,” Lena insisted, almost too loud. “No I don’t. There is no one better. God, Kara,” she softened her voice, “I think I fell a little in love with you the day we even met. I never used to believe in love at first sight or soulmates but… I am a witch after all.”
Kara let out a slow sigh. “Lena, are you saying…”
“Even when I was trying to tell you I hated you, I was telling you how much I love you. It’s you, Kara. It’s always been you.”
“I love you so much,” Kara said whispered, “I’ll love you forever.”
“Kara, everyone else is asleep,” she forced out, her jaw trembling from excitement. “Take me to the bedroom. Please.”
Kara said nothing but stood up in a single motion, lifting Lena with ease and curling her up in the cape. Lena didn’t think her feet ever touched the ground as they slipped into the bedroom and Kara laid her down on the bed, quickly and quietly closing the door before lunging into the bed, pressing Lena into the mattress with a barrage of hot, aggressively desperate kisses.
They were both quiet, Kara pausing only briefly to implore Lena with her eyes and wait for a murmured yes. There was something thrilling about the quiet, they way they swallowed their gasps and passed their moans softly through one another’s lips, and Lena would never forget the way Kara delighted in her, virtually worshipping her.
Lena returned the favor with with enthusiasm.
By morning, Lena was exhausted in every sense of the term and was curled up in a tangle of blankets and a snoozing Kryptonian.
There was a knock at the door.
“Well lock up on our way out,” Alex called. “By the way, you guys forgot about the whole keeping quiet thing about halfway through. Thanks for etching Lena yelling “daddy” into my brain.”
Kara snorted.
“Alex, I love you, but get out.”
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medievalandfantasymelee · 2 months ago
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THE HOT MEDIEVAL & FANTASY MEN MELEE
FIRST ROUND: 17th Tilt
Hubert Hawkins, The Court Jester (1955) VS. Haldir, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003)
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Propaganda
Hubert Hawkins, The Court Jester (1955) Portrayed by: Danny Kaye Defeated Opponents: - Saburo Naotora Ichimonji [Ryu Daisuke], Ran (1985)
“he's hot both in “local out of his depth idiot mode” and “over the top romantic hero mode”. he fences like nobody's business. he's the only man of all time to pull off a jester outfit and make it look actually snatched. Danny Kaye needs this, please.”
Haldir, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003) Portrayed by: Craig Parker Defeated Opponents: - Robin Hood [Douglas Fairbanks], Robin Hood (1928)
“Long is the crush I have harboured for Haldir. My man. My dude. Literally as close to "just a guy" as any elf has ever gotten and I love that for him. He doesn't make the rules, he just follows them. He's reliable, solid, good humoured. He's one of the few elves in the movies who achieves the true elf vibe of the books, and I know this because I feel a sense of comfort and happiness any time he's on screen. The kind of guy you want to sit and have a draught with in companionable silence. The way he looks down at you. But also the way he looks up at you. Grade A Husband Material; he deserved so much.”
Additional Propaganda Under the Cut
Additional Propaganda
For Hubert Hawkins:
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“He sings! He dances! He fences! He wears really tight leggings!”
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“We love a hot, funny, good-hearted man who subverts the gendered tropes of the subgenre! He is absolutely shit at sword-fighting! He is great at doing funny voices! ‘Tenderness and kindness can also make a man,’ says the awesome trousers-wearing heroine who works alongside him in the anti-tyrannical resistance, ‘a very rare man.’ She's right and she should say it and I support them both so much. Hubert Hawkins, world's sweetest and funniest surprise regent (who gets the girl.) See also attached photo of him goofing around with drums on set, I love him so much.”
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For Haldir:
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queenimmadolla · 1 year ago
Note
Eddie Munson. Love. Established relationship
𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩
“I cannot believe them.” Steve huffed out, hands resting on his hips as his foot tapped against the asphalt outside of the police station.
“You already said that,” Jonathan blanched, leaning back against the hood of his car while Argyle closely examined his own hands for whatever reason.
“Well, I can’t!” He snapped again and Eddie smirked, thoroughly amused with the situation. And worried.
He was also very worried.
Half an hour ago, he’d been in the trailer, eating mac and cheese straight from the pot when the phone rang.
It was Hopper. Specifically, Chief Hopper. As in, on duty, Chief Hopper. Eddie had immediately jumped into a monologue about how he hadn’t done anything and even if he did, Hopper had no proof of it but Hopper wasn’t calling to tell Eddie he had six cop cars in route.
He was calling to tell Eddie to come pick up his girlfriend, who had gotten into a bar brawl.
He’d raced the fuck over and was surprised to see the other guys pull up as well, though he probably shouldn’t have given the fact you’d gone out with Robin, Nancy and Eden.
What the fuck kind of trouble could that roster have gotten into???
Enough to warrant being taken to the police station.
Hopper had informed him you’d all be getting warnings, leeway you all got most definitely just because he was now Jonathan’s stepdad.
“It can’t have been that bad,” Eddie rolled his eyes when Steve froze in his irritable mom-pose and slowly turned to face him.
“Can’t have been that bad—WE’RE AT THE POLICE STATION!”
“Would you rather it be a courtroom?” Eddie asked, cocking an eyebrow. He pitied Buckley for the scolding she’d no doubt get from Steve on their drive home.
“I’d rather not have to pick her up from anywhere other than her house or work!”
“Calm down, Mother Hen. It was probably nothing,”
It was definitely something. 
The doors to the station opened, Nancy was the first out with Robin trailing her, you following Robin and Eden on your heels.
You all looked like you had definitely been involved in a fight, clothes rumpled and torn, hair a mess and Nancy sported a bloody lower lip. She started crying the moment she was in Jonathan’s arms, but he didn’t think it was because of her lip or even the fight, Nancy was just a very emotional drunk and her staggering was an obvious sign of intoxication.
You skipped right over to him and Eddie knew you were drunk, too.
“Hi, baby! I missed ya!” You sang as you slipped your arms around his waist to press yourself up against him for a hug, side of your face resting against his chest.
“You okay, sweetheart?” Eddie grabbed you by the shoulders, gently trying to pry you away from him so he could look you over for injuries but you refused to release your hold. The most he could do was get you to crane back a little so you could look at him.
“Neva’ betta’. Why?” You asked, cocking your head and beaming up at him.
Eddie’s face broke out into a grin. 
“Because a little birdy told me you were in a scrap.”
You were about to reply before the sound of Steve and Robin arguing with each other distracted you and you turned your head to watch them.
Eddie had to physically turn it back, and he was laughing as he did.
“C’mon, buttercup, I need you to stay with me, yeah?”
He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, dipping his head to the side to catch your stare and you went back to beaming at him, eyes crinkled.
“I’ll stay with you forever.”
Fuck, you were so cute.
“That’s not really what I meant, baby, but I had no plans on letting you go. What happened tonight?”
You scoffed, arms dropping to your sides as you took a couple of steps back and glared at nothing.
“You wouldn’t freakin’ believe it, babe! Me and my girls,” You gestured to Nancy who was being coddled by Jonathan, Robin who was now scolding Steve, and Eden who was high-fiving Argyle, “were out having fun, getting sloshed—I had so many midori sours, baby, so many and my throw up is gonna be green—when alluvasudden Carol fuckin’ Perkins and her group of raggedy bitches comes up to us.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. He knew just how much you despised Carol. You two hadn’t been exactly friendly back in high school.
“And I’m like ‘oh wow, Carol, I was actually hoping to never fucking see you again.’ But she wasn’t there for me, babe. She was there ‘cause of Robin.” You leaned in to whisper the last sentence to him.
“I din’t even fuckin’ know it—but I should’ve ‘cause like the resemblance is there, isn’t it? Like they look kind of like each other, you know?”
“No, baby. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But Eddie was thoroughly invested in the drama, shifting his position to lean up against the van.
“Oh, yeah!” You laughed, amused that you knew and he didn’t. “Carol is Vickie’s cousin.”
Eddie’s eyes widened comically, sending you into a fit of giggles.
Vickie was Robin’s ex….something. Towards the end of senior year, Vickie had broken up with her long time boyfriend. On the rebound, looking for some attention to prove she was still wanted as most do after a breakup, she’d entertained Robin’s infatuation with her. 
They were always together, never affectionate in public, for obvious reasons, though Robin implied they were something. Then, it stopped. Vickie and her boyfriend got back together and she never even gave Robin proper closure, just stopped talking to her, stopped taking her phone calls and obviously avoided her.
It had been an unfortunate situation, the entire group pulled together to cheer Robin up but she got over it, met another girl, and they were an official couple. Girlfriend and girlfriend. She was away for a family thing and Robin couldn’t get the time off, which is why the girls had all gone out for a night to distract her.
“Carol is Vickie’s cousin!?” He whispered back in disbelief, hand flying over his mouth.
“Yeah!”
“So where does the fighting come in—is that blood?!” Eddie nearly had a heart attack as he noticed the red splatter on the front of your shirt. He hadn’t seen it earlier because you’d been glued to him.
You glanced down, taking the hem of your shirt in your hands to flare it out so you could see it better, “Oh, yeah! ‘S not mine, though. ‘S Carol’s. She told Robin people like her weren’t allowed in the bar, so I punched her a couple times and her friends started fighting us but we kicked their asses, baby!”
Eddie stared at you, eyes clouded with adoration and awe. 
You’d been dating for a while now, and every single damn day Eddie thought he found another thing he loved about you. Every. Single. Day.
And right then, in that moment, Eddie was finally able to express what he’d been thinking, feeling for the last couple of months. It wasn’t really the things you did that he loved about you. Eddie just loved you.
He needed you to know.
“I am so in love with you,” He breathed out, hands reaching out to latch onto your waist and draw you back into him. 
He was about to go on his spew about how you didn’t have to say it back and he just wanted you to know but you caught him by surprise, took the breath right out of him.
“I love you, too, Eds. Can we go home now? I’m hungry.”
Eddie blinked, knees weak.
“Baby, I don’t think you know what I’m sayi—“
“You said you love me and I love you, too. I’m drunk, baby, I can still hear you.” You sagged into him, head craned up to give him those eyes of yours.
“You love me?” He whispered, hand moving to tenderly cup the back of your head.
“Mhm.” You nodded, leaning up on your toes as Eddie met you halfway in a passionate kiss. He was about to tease your mouth open with his tongue when Hopper pushed his way out of the station.
“HEY! KNOCK IT OFF! GO HOME!”
Eddie laughed against your mouth as you pouted before he pulled away and ushered you into the van. Once you were buckled, he headed around to the driver’s side and took note of how meek Steve looked as he got into the driver’s seat of his own car. If Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think it was Steve who got into trouble with the law, and Robin picking him up from the station.
Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle and Eden were long gone.
You were fiddling with the radio when he hopped in.
“It’s not working,” you frowned, continuing to press buttons.
“Sweetheart, the car’s not on.” 
“Oh.”
Eddie loved you so much.
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bludhavenbooty · 4 months ago
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The Djinn’s Reward (Submission!)
Nightwing had seen a lot of weird things in her career as a supervigilante - aliens, monsters, mad scientists - but at the end of the day, she was a human being and she specialized in stopping human crimes. When the communicator on her wrist pinged a silent alarm at the Gotham Institute of Antiquities, Nightwing leapt into action expecting art thieves.
The break-in hadn’t been subtle. Sneaking in through the broken skylight, Nightwing found the Middle Eastern gallery being prowled by the villainous Baron Geld and his dimwitted minions. The gold-obsessed gangster normally targeted jewelry stores and auction houses, but Nightwing didn’t question what he would want here before ambushing Geld’s muscle. She effortlessly sapped one from behind with an escrima stick, then delivered a kick to the gut and a smack to the skull on the second. The last one got to raise his fist and take two steps forward before Nightwing effortlessly deflected his arm with one escrima stick and drove the but of her other between the thug’s eyes. That left Nightwing facing down Baron Geld himself - a unimpressive dandy dressed like the bad guy from an old Robin Hood movie. He grinned with an annoying amount of confidence, regardless.
“Ah, Nightwing, Bludhaven’s own lady of the night, you’ve grace we humble men with your presence.”
The boyish superheroine spun her escrima sticks, cocked her hips, and smirked at the costumed criminal. “Humble is one way to put it, Geld. You didn’t even bring enough men to make it a challenge.”
“Yes, good help can be so hard to find,” Baron Geld held up a simple glass bottle, taken from the museum display. With a flourish, he pulled out a stopper. “But I think I found a new henchman I can depend on!”
There was a bang and then a cloud of thick white smoke. Nightwing reached for her gas mask, when the smoke impossibly reversed course and seemingly congealed in the center of the room. Dixie stared in shock as the smoke resolved into a figure of a gigantic man.
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“Ha ha ha, I’m finally free!” The djinn bellowed with joy. He grinned at Baron Geld. “As I swore centuries ago, I would shower the man who freed me with all the riches of the world. Gold, jewels, a harem of beauties… All of it will be yours, sir!”
“A harem? Great, a harem! Then her!” Baron Geld pointed at Nightwing with a smile of vicious triumph. “Make her my first harem girl!”
Dixie’s eyes went wide. She didn’t know what to do about a magical genie, but she wasn’t going down without a fight! Nightwing clenched her sticks and charged at Baron Geld, determined to grab the bottle. But the djinn snapped her fingers and Dixie fell flat on her face as her combat boots dissolved, along with her uniform and her weapons and her mask. Instead, Dixie now wore a golden belly dancers outfit.
“Are you sure you want her, sir?” The djinn laughed down at Dixie. “She’s a fine specimen of a warrior, but for a concubine-?”
“If you can make improvements, I wouldn’t complain.”
“Wait-” Dixie tried to beg, but the djinn clapped his hands twice and Dixie’s body convulsed with vulgar heat. She starred in helpless confusion as her muscle melted away to give her a slender physique, while her breasts swelled into round globes. Dixie bit her plumping lips as her hair inched down her neck and back. It felt amazing. It felt like an orgasmic full-body massage as a tan spread over her and make-up blossomed on her face.
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“Mmmmm, what have you done to me?” Dixie moaned sensually. She didn’t sound like herself. She didn’t fell like herself. It was like struggling to stay awake, stronger than any drug Dixie had experienced.
“Shall she have a new name, sir?”
“Hmmm… Aurora.” Geld licked his lips and stared into her eyes. A chill passed up Dixie’s spine, barely noticeable under the sexual heat. “The first of Baron Geld’s new treasures.”
“Very good, sir.” The djinn clapped his hands again. “Rise, Aurora, and serve your master.”
Dixie blinked and Aurora opened her eyes, feeling her self-righteousness and fear fall away. Hunger and pride took their place. She was Aurora, who lived to please her master, the Baron Geld, as one of his golden treasures.
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(Thank you @parasex-jamboree​ for the very hot submission!)
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beingsuneone · 1 year ago
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Memories & Delusions
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PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE
SYNOPSIS: Jason Todd is dead, you have to remember that; even if the newest villain in town is both incredibly sexy and reminds you of the boy you used to love.
FANDOM: DC
PAIRING(S): Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
RATING: PG
CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Tim
GENRE/AU: fluff, different timeline AU (not mentioned in detail but the timeline is different than canon), canon divergence, reader is kind of like Stephanie so NOT Bruce’s kids but she does live in the manor.
WORD COUNT: 3.9k
WARNINGS: Swearing, mentions of blood and injuries.
A/N: I could fs do a part two to this ;)
DEDICATIONS: Myself for having this idea for more than two years and finally getting it out in writing in some way
CREDITS: N/A
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“Jesus Christ! Who the fuck is this guy, Batman?” You exclaim, panting hard through your mask; whoever this Red Hood guy is… he really knows your team's weaknesses. It’s disconcerting.
Weirdly enough, he’s left you mostly alone.
Bruce shrugs from across the room. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
It’s a blur of movement as Red Hood tries to attack mostly Bruce, only attacking Dick or you if you get in the way.
He’s said almost nothing since this fight started.
After a few minutes, Bruce sends a signal and jumps out of the half destroyed building; Dick follows and jumps out shortly after.
Leaving just you and Gothams latest criminal.
You’re about to turn to jump again, when suddenly your wrist is caught in Red Hood’s hand.
The familiarity of it makes you gasp and freeze.
He stares down at you, intimidating and silent through his red helmet.
Returning his stare, with as much fiery energy as you can muster, you try to pull your wrist away; His grip is like iron and you can’t.
“Don’t get in my way, Y/n.” He says, making your heart drop with the use of your civilian name. “I won’t choose between you and my goal.”
Your back is rigid and you’re breathing has stopped… if he knows your name, that means he probably knows everyone else’s too.
Fuck.
He finally lets go, brushing past your stiff body.
You’re too shocked to follow him.
….
“He knew my name, Bruce!” You say, feeling panicked. “Do you know what that means?”
Bruce nods curtly. “It means you aren’t suiting up until we’ve taken him down.” You try to protest but Bruce holds a hand up to cut you off. “It’s not up for discussion.”
You fidget with the small red pendant hanging around your neck, something you do whenever you’re feeling too many emotions.
It reminds you of Jason, the first boy you’ve ever been in love with and also the last; Jason was also Bruce’s second adopted son.
Jason Todd died five years ago.
But when he was alive… There was something special about him. He was always so eager to help Bruce by being robin.
That was back before you had your own suit; really, you’d only gotten a superhero identity so you could hunt down the joker and get revenge for Jason, but Bruce had managed to convince you not to do that in the last five years.
Probably for the best, even if seventeen is too young for someone to die; even if having a strong bond ripped away from you before it could become anything still hurt so badly.
You follow Bruce down into the batcave. “What do we know about Red Hood? Do we have any idea how he originated? It seems like he just popped out of nowhere.”
Bruce contemplates his answer as he unlocks the bat computer. “All we know is that he would have had to fly under our radar for months in order to take over the whole underground drug ring.”
You over hover his shoulder, trying to see what’s on the screen below him. “I don’t understand how we wouldn’t hear anything about him? With that many people who work for him, you’d think one of them would mention something.”
He hums in response. “They must be terrified of him.”
Alfred inserts himself into the conversation and ushers you back into the main part of the manor. “Alright, Miss. Y/n, You’re officially off duty indefinitely.” He pauses. “Like Master Bruce said, it is safer if you disconnect yourself from your hero identity.”
You frown. “If he knows my real name, he probably knows where I live.”
“He also told you, quote ‘don’t get in my way’ end quote.” Alfred tuts. “He clearly has no intention of hurting you as a civilian.”
You huff and head up to your bedroom, feeling like you really need to be out there but not really knowing why.
You suppose you don’t know what to do with your time anymore, now that you’ve been superhero-ing for so long.
When was the last time you read a book? Or watched a movie, just because you wanted to? It’s been too long…
Your bookshelves mostly carry decorative encyclopedias and other books that would bore you to sleep, so you leave your room and head just down the hallway.
The door creaks as you push open and clicks when you push it shut; then, you’re left in the silence of Jason Todd’s bedroom. Unchanged and untouched from the last moment he was in here.
It’s a little messy but nothing out of the ordinary for a teenage boy; the bed was never made, and his clothes were ever put in his drawers despite them being washed.
There’s books pulled out and just scattered in places, schoolbooks, comic books, novels… finally you spot what you wanted to find.
It’s a very old and very worn copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, something the two of you used to read together when you’d sneak onto the roof of the manor at nighttime.
You’d watch the stars and one of you would read the book out loud, until eventually you both would pass out and give Bruce a heart attack the next morning.
Maybe it was time to revisit that tradition, even if you were only reading to yourself.
Bruce and Alfred are in the Cave so you find your way into the roof and lay back. The shingles are definitely more uncomfortable without Jason to lay on, but it’s still a nice feeling nonetheless.
Just the act of laying under the stars with that book in your hands, makes you feel a kind of warmth that you haven’t felt in years.
You close your eyes and take a long, deep breath of night air; It’s fresh and ever so slightly damp, but in a way that makes you feel nice. The cold nips at your body in all the right ways.
Unfortunately, all bliss is momentary, and someone clearing their throat makes you jump a couple centimeters upwards.
You’re met with the bright red helmet of Red Hood.
“Pride and Prejudice, huh?” He says casually, though you're pretty sure he has a voice changer on, which makes his voice sound more irritated than it probably is.
You back up a few inches. “Bru-” Red Hood slaps a hand over your mouth before you can finish yelling for help.
You squirm in his grip, but he just maneuvers you so that your back is to his chest and you can barely move which makes your body lock up again— you can’t help the feeling of familiarity that settles in your stomach, or the way your body reacts to his.
Worst of all, he smells just like… no, it must just be where you are.
Jason Todd is dead.
And yet.
“Relax, Y/n, I’m not here to hurt you.” Something about him makes you listen and you relax your body. He kind of half-scoffs in response. “Are you done?”
You nod as best you can. He releases you.
“Who— why are you here?” You say, trying to ignore the fact that everything about this masked man reminds you of Jason.
Your chest rises and falls irregularly as he stares at you.
His head snaps away randomly. “Why should I tell you that?”
“Don’t answer my question with a question.”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”
There’s a look of defiance shared between the two of you, or, at least, on your end. You can’t actually see his face so you’re really just assuming.
You spin away and blow out a labored breath. “God, I must be going insane…” Even the way he talks with you sounds like Jason.
“You’re so short, you look like a bunny who lost its carrot.” He says with a laugh.
“I do not!” You exclaim angrily, your mouth dropping open. “Okay, that’s it, I’m calling Bruce.” Your hand slips into your pocket to pull out your phone, and just as it's out of your pocket, Red Hood grabs your wrist; he traps it in one spot and yanks the phone from your hand.
He gently sets it on the ground. “Tell that fucker whatever you want, but wait until I’m gone.” The tone in his voice sends a chill down your spine. He seems so angry…
With that, he leaves, taken the same way that you took off the roof.
You stand there until you hear the roar of his motorbike, and then you finally retreat from the roof with the book clutched tightly to your chest.
…..
“I’m going with you, Bruce. You can’t stop me.” You say, already moving to try to grab your suit.
“No, you’re not.” He says sternly, blocking your path. “You need to stay out of this fight.”
You raise your eyebrows in challenge. “I’m going whether you let me wear that suit or not.” Bruce apparently doesn’t like this because he frowns even harder than before. You continue, “You can’t go alone. Dick is out of town and Tim is at school. Let me come.”
“You forget I did this by myself for quite a while before I adopted Dick.” He says firmly, leaving no room for argument.
Bruce doesn’t need your help, you know that; helping him isn’t your real goal.
Ever since the rooftop incident with Red Hood you’d gone into some sort of obsessive spiral over his similarities to Jason.
You feel like you need to talk to him again, touch him again… just to see why he’s so familiar; you feel insane.
The deepest parts of your brain scream at you that it’s not just similarities, that he really is Jason but… he can’t be; you watched them bury Jason’s body.
“There’s something else going on with you.” Bruce says, basically sizing you up.
You stiffen, which unfortunately gives away your next lie. “There’s nothing going on with me.” No excuse comes to mind so you don’t say anything more.
Bruce pauses for a beat.
“This has nothing to do with Red Hood.”
“Okay? Why would that matter?” You say dismissively, but also way too fast. “I don’t think keeping me locked up at home helps anyone.”
He sighs and finally caves. “Fine, you can come.”
…..
You aren’t sure how this situation devolved so quickly, but your communications got cut off a while ago and you haven’t been able to find Bruce or navigate very well through the rubble.
You’re bleeding heavily from a few different cuts and you’re pretty sure you sprained your ankle.
The faint cackle of the Joker makes you dive under a fallen piece of concrete, because if he comes this way he’ll surely kill you.
But the laugh recedes so you crawl out and sit against it instead.
You’re just about to start sobbing from the pain when you hear footsteps again; you go silent and try to move but you don't allow that.
You see a flash of red, and then Red Hood turns a corner into your line of sight.
“Christ’s sake, Y/n.” He mumbles. “What happened?” He approaches and drops down so he’s sitting on his feet, he stares for a moment, and you assume he’s assessing your injuries.
“You can’t call me that— here.” You hiss when he presses a finger against your ankle.
He stands up and takes both your hands, completely ignoring what you said. “Up. But don’t stand on your bad ankle.”
You grip his hands and stand up, holding your bad ankle in the air; Red Hood scoops you up bridal style not a moment later.
You squeal. “What are you doing?”
He stops walking and turns the face of his helmet directly toward you. “I’m taking you back to my base so I can help you get fixed up.” He interrupts you before you can speak, answering the question you were going to ask. “Batman isn’t here anymore, he went to follow after the Joker.”
It’s a rough walk to his bike, and it lasts for about ten minutes; ten awkward minutes of you being carried by Red Hood.
Red Hood who’s supposed to be a criminal and your enemy. Red Hood who brings you more comfort than he should just because of who he reminds you of.
He settles you onto the bike, pulling out an extra helmet before he speeds off.
…..
“Jesus, you sprained your ankle really badly.” He curses, performing whatever medical procedures as you hiss and whine at the pain.
He’s already stitched and/or dressed any of the open wounds you had and he saved the worst for last.
“Okay,” he says absent-mindedly. “I can’t do this properly with this thing.”
He reaches for his helmet but you stop him. “You’re taking your helmet off?”
He hesitates, then nods slowly. “I have to. If you don’t want to see, then shut your eyes until I’m done.”
You nod and squeeze your eyes shut.
He sighs softly and gets back to working on your ankle.
…..
“I swear to god, Bruce, it’s him. Red Hood is Jason.” You say, purposfully making your voice flat and void of emotion. “He has to be.”
Bruce just stares.
And stares.
Sympathetically, softly. But he stares.
“Jason has been dead for a long time, Y/n, and you know that.”
“No— I know, but he can’t be— that has to be him.” You back up into one of the chairs in the batcave, trying to calm your racing heart; you still try to keep a calm outward facade.
“What makes you think he’s Jason?” Bruce asks.
You weakly gesture at nothing with your hand. “Just look at him. He’s— everything about him is the same.”
Tim snorts from the computer. “The running drug rings and murders?”
“Not appropriate, Tim.” Dick says flatly and Tim’s face falls quickly.
You don’t blame him, you probably would have made a joke like that too.
Shaking your head, you stare at the floor past Bruce. “They sound the same, they talk the same way, they look similar— hell, they even smell the same.”
Bruce’s brows furrow. “How do you know what he smells like?”
“Uh…” you stall. “You know, close combat.”
Apparently, he drops it even though he clearly doesn’t believe you, because he asks another question. “We’ve never seen Red Hood unmasked, how do you know they look similar?”
You shrug. “They just do. There’s just something about him. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling for a while.”
It’s silent again for several long moments.
Then Bruce shakes his head absentmindedly.
“Jason is dead, Y/n. No matter how much we miss him, he can’t come back.”
But he’s wrong, he has to be.
Because no one is that similar to someone. You’re sure of it.
……
Your cheeks are wet and your eyes are starting to become raw from you rubbing at them.
Sobbing pathetically on the rooftop of the manor because you had to be reminded about a death that happened a long time ago is not the highlight of your day.
It’s stupid, going from sure of yourself, to telling yourself you’re so stupid for ever thinking it could be true in the first place.
There’s footsteps beside you, but you don’t look up. You don’t care enough to see who it is.
You fidget with the necklace around your neck as you sniffle into your knees.
Something clicks and then hisses as if air pressure is being released before you hear a tiny thud, and then someone pulls you into them.
You know who it is now.
“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly. You know you could look up and confirm your suspicions at any moment but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.
It’s not true, after all, because it can’t be. It’s not possible.
You shrug against him. “I’m reopening old wounds for no reason.” You pause. “Why do you trust me?”
He’s silent, contemplative for a while. “You’re you.”
You laugh dryly. “That doesn’t explain anything.”
“You haven’t even bothered to look have you?” His hand strokes lines in your hair. “You could. I don’t think I’d mind.”
“I don’t want to know.” You say, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m not ready for that.”
He nods, you can feel the movement through his body, even though it’s subtle.
You sit, wrapped up in his arms for a long while before he clears his throat softly and asks, “what old wounds have you been reopening?”
Your eyes well again, but you choke back the tears. “An old… friend, I guess. He died.” You start to pull back but you don’t look at his face.
Instead, you bury your face in your hands again. He lets you pull back. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
You shrug. “It was a long time ago, he just meant a lot to me— and it’s really hard because you remind me so much of him.”
He makes a sort of strangled sound and then clears his throat again but more rough this time. “Why do you say that?”
His voice sounds even more similar without the helmet and voice changer. This man is going to be the death of you. Maybe literally. “I don’t… I don’t know. It’s just everything.” You shake your head and laugh sardonically. “It’s driving me insane.”
“How did he die?” His voice is darker than before, and there’s a sort of undertone you can’t place.
“Brutally.” You stop, take a deep breath, and offer only a bit more context. “The Joker.”
He hums. “The Joker‘s alive and ruling this dumb city.” He pauses. “How do you think your friend would feel about that?”
“Probably about the same as I do. Sick.” You run a hand through your hair, purposefully trying to avoid seeing his face. “That’s why I became a hero, you know. I wanted to kill the joker because he killed Ja- um, my friend.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“People stopped me before I did something I couldn’t come back from.” You say, wrapping your arms around your legs. “I hope the joker suffers a terrible death, but I don’t think it should be by my hands. He wins if I spend the rest of my existence regretting it.”
Red Hood picks up his helmet and clicks it back on. “Right.” He stands and stares down at you. “I have to leave now.”
You shudder at his sudden coldness, and stand abruptly. “Okay, I— um, goodbye…?” You want to smack yourself at how unsure you sound. “Did I say something wrong?”
He shakes his head. “I just don’t know why you would ever regret ridding the world of someone like The Joker, that’s all.”
Stiffly, you nod and wipe your hands on your pants.
“Sorry about your friend.” He finishes, before leaving you alone on the roof again. “Too bad I didn’t know him.”
Basically, crushing any hopes you might’ve had that he was Jason.
……
This is an atrociously stupid idea, you know; driving directly into the den of Gotham's biggest drug lord is the smartest thing to do.
But Gotham's biggest drug lord is Red Hood, and you’re fairly sure he won’t hurt you. Mostly.
His lackeys though, don’t seem so forgiving.
“Who the hell are you?” The man who barks the question at you, is raggedy looking and has the worst, most distasteful tattoos you’ve seen in your life.
“I’m here to see Red Hood.” You amend quickly, “I’m a friend of his.”
“Yeah, right.” The other guard says, a bulky looking woman who is also insanely beautiful… unsettlingly so. “A fragile little thing like you, friends with our boss… please.”
You scoff. “Trust me, I’m not fragile.” Stopping, you contemplate whether it’s a good idea to start something, considering your ankle is still healing. “Just call him.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, whatever.”
An old phone hangs on the wall and she picks up the receiver and quickly dials a number. “Hey, I have a woman here who says she’s the bosses friend— her name? I have no clue— Oi, what’s your name?” The woman barks at you.
“Y/n.”
“Her name’s Y/n.” She’s silent for a minute while we all wait, then she hangs up the phone aggressively and yanks your arm into her grip. “Lucky. Let’s go.”
The corridors are a bit confusing to navigate, but you’re mostly just following the woman, who seems very familiar with them.
After ten minutes you reach a door, it matches almost every other door, but it has ‘boss’ written crudely on it in spray paint.
“You’re on your own from here.” She says gruffly before stomping away.
You take a moment to collect yourself before you knock, and the door swings open before you can even finish knocking.
“Why are you here?” Red Hood sounds breathless behind his mask, as if something winded him. “How did you remember how to get here?”
“I’m… actually not sure.” You chuckle quietly to yourself as Red Hood pulls you inside.
He sits down at a desk after pulling a chair out for you to sit in. “Again, why are you here?”
Your heart seizes for a moment as if the reason why you’re here hit you all over again. “I want you to show me who you are.”
“Are you sure?” Red Hood questions slowly, his body locking up. “You’re not going to like it.”
You nod curtly. “Yes, I need to know.”
He takes a deep breath and stands up, coming right up close to you. Far enough that you could see his face clearly but close enough to have your knees buckling.
He reaches up and presses a button you can’t see. The helmet hisses and opens, he pulls it off.
And your jaw drops.
Standing there, in grown up glory, black hair, green eyes that used to kill you, is Jason Fucking Todd.
“You’re— You’re not— dead.” You stammer, almost reaching out to touch him before you yank your hand back.
You’re so irrationally angry and also relieved and devastated all at the same time.
Jason sets the helmet down. You can’t decide whether to hug him and never let go or slap him for waiting so long to tell you. “That’s a… complicated story.” He pauses. “I promise I’ll tell you that story but I just— can’t get into that right now.”
You nod slowly. “Okay… that means I can get fucking pissed now.”
You’ve clearly confused him when you wrap your hands around his waist and squeeze tightly while also cursing him out. “I can’t believe you waited this long to show me.”
You can see the smart-ass comment on the tip of his tongue but he bites it back. “I knew you’d find out eventually.” His eyes caress your body and there’s a look of longing lingering in his eyes; he seems to be contemplating something. “Fuck it, I’ve been waiting too long to do this.”
You barely have time to react as Jason lowers his face down to yours and kisses you; As soon as you realize what he’s doing, you kiss back.
His hands go to rest on your hips, as you slowly get pushed back into his desk behind you. When you hit the ledge of if, Jason lifts you onto its surface, and pulls back.
“I’ve wanted to do that since we were kids.” He says quietly.
You gently touch your lips, almost in disbelief. “I’ve been wanting you to do that since we were kids.”
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All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.
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