lonely gothamite

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ 19 .ᐟ 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ saving the city rn, brb

[gothamlocal]

i have moments, like this one right now, where i just want to profusely apologize and overshare information that explains why i dont write for a short while. trying not to do that, its a New Year’s resolution - not really, i just made that up.

anyway, i wanted to just put a little post out there to say sorry for not writing and posting as much as i should - as much as i WANT to. my feet drag and so does my mind, but ill try my best to push out of this hole that im in and that so many others find themselves stuck inside as well.

will write and will post very soon. thank you for the support on my other posts, it’s so encouraging :)

[gothamlocal]

Jason Todd only sleeps soundly around you

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_

One of the more prominent features you noticed on your boyfriend’s face right as you started dating were his eyebags. They made his eyes hang low and accompanied them with a deep, reddish purple color.

Most people have trouble sleeping, especially those who live in Gotham, so you thought it’d be best to ignore them. About a year into dating, however, he’d finally revealed his second identity - the (in)famous Red Hood. His eye bags didn’t seem like much of a mystery anymore. 

Over time, that particular feature of Jason’s became almost unnoticeable - you stopped caring about them and at the same time, they were slowly fading away. You wouldn’t have noticed anything if it weren’t for the conversation you were currently having with Stephanie and Tim in the Wayne Manor where you expressed how much sleep you got the night before.

“Lowkey one of the main things that sucks about being a vigilante is how light of a sleeper I’ve become. Seriously, my body is constantly in fight or flight mode even when I’m napping.” Tim blurted with a mouth full of cheeto puffs. The three of you are hunched on one of the living room couches watching some reality TV show that’s currently showing an ad break. 

Stephanie chuckles from beside Tim and steals some chips before speaking:“At least we're not on the same level as Jason. I don’t think he’s ever gotten a full seven hours. Anesthesia can’t even help that man.” Stephanie lifts her feet to rest on the coffee table in front of you.

You would add a funny comment about how she’s wearing Christmas socks in February, but you’re too busy trying to understand what she just said. 

Jason? Your Jason never getting a full seven hours? He gets double that almost everyday in your shared apartment! You try not to make your confused face obvious as the two of them fight over the last few chips. 

“Now that you mention it, his eyebags have been disappearing-” Tim attempts to add more before Steph interrupts. 

“-Maybe he’s wearing makeup” 

The three of you chuckle at that, but it’s still odd to you. 

“Have you noticed anything [name]?” 

The pair turns to you with curious eyes and cheeto puff hands. You chuckle again and lay back with your own bag of chips with you - untouched by the ravenous pair. 

“Well it’s sort of weird that you say that” 

Steph tilts her head. None of you are paying attention to the TV program that has come back from its commercial break. 

“He sleeps fine at home. One time we went to bed -at like- two in the morning and he didn’t wake up until-” you eat some chips while thinking about how long Jason slept that day. He had just come back from a particularly tiring patrol round and plopped right on top of you as you laid on your shared bed. 

“-I think it was around 4 pm.” 

“WHAT?-” 

“-his snoring was so loud that night too, it made me want him to get tested for sleep apnea-” 

Tim stood up with wide eyes and a shocked expression. You could tell him that the sky had turned green and he’d have the same expression. Steph started laughing her heart out, either because she was shocked or because she thought the situation was funny. . maybe both. 

“SNORING? HE WAS SNORING?” Tim’s jaw is now on the floor and his eyes are still wide. 

Steph tried to speak through her laughs: “I have- I have NEVER heard him snore before. Please *wheeze* Please, you have to get a video!” 

“I would’ve but he just sort of plopped on me. He took off half of his utility belt, said a quick ‘hey babe’, and knocked out.” 

Steph is riding the high of her laughter as she wipes the tears that had showed up on her eyes while Tim sits back down. He looks utterly dumbfounded and he takes a moment to speak. 

“Well, at least we know why his eyebags are gone now.” he shrugs with a smile. 

You turn your whole body towards the two and lean against the arm rest. “Yeah? Why do you think?” 

“It’s obvious isn’t it? He - and I never thought I'd say this - feels comfortable enough around you. Like, enough to just knock out for ten plus hours.” Tim puts his hands in front of him and shrugs again. 

“I’m glad he has someone like you, honestly” he adds with a soft smile. It warms your heart how welcoming the whole family was towards you and how they still are. They’re some of your closest friends, even if Jason did wait around a year to finally introduce you. 

“That man looovveess you” Steph says with a drag of the word ‘love’ before she stops with a gasp. 

“Oh my gosh oh my gosh - we should totally keep him out late on patrol tonight and have [name] record a video of him snoring. I need to have something to use to make fun of him.” Steph claps her hands and switches her gaze back and forth between you and Tim. 

Tim snaps his fingers and points towards Steph. “Best plan you’ve had in a while. [name]?” The pair turns towards you again with a lame attempt at puppy dog eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh at their antics. 

“Sounds like a plan!” you say through small chuckles as the three of you continue the show, trying to piece together the scenes that you missed. 

_

i just had a surge of ideas come into my brain i feel unstoppable.

(to the anon who sent something in: im so excited and im working on it - trust)

ugh i love jason todd

[gothamlocal]

hugs with jason todd

─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · · · · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · · · · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · · · · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─

─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · · · · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · · · · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · · · · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─

Jason hugs you as if it’s the last time he’d ever hold you- Every. single. time.

They’re crushing, but in an enveloping, warm, and comfortable way. Within your arms is truly where Jason feels the most safe. No weapons, armor, or safe houses could make him feel as secure as he does when he’s holding you.

His inexplicably huge arms wrap around your waist from behind as you put away the last few mugs into the cupboard. He places his face in the crevice of your neck and shoulder, inhaling slowly before exhaling with the same speed. You feel him relax as you turn around in his arms to hug him properly.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

There was never a need to continue a conversation if either of you didn’t feel like talking. It was a mutual understanding that both of you were grateful for. Sometimes there’s no need to start a conversation when you were perfectly fine just simply basking in each others embrace.

Jason does this thing where he curls himself into you; he hunches in while pushing you into him as if he’s trying to fuse your two bodies together. You think if that were a possibility, Jason would do it without hesitation. He only does this, however, when he’s feeling particularly down. So, you slowly bring your hands up to his disheveled, wavy hair and carefully scratch. You feel him sigh happily once more as you scratch the area between his sideburn and ear.

“I really needed you today.” Jason blurts out- his wavering voice being muffled by your neck.

“Well, you have me now. I’m not going anywhere”

You feel a wet droplet touch your neck, but instead of pointing it out you gently kiss Jason’s head instead. You press soft kisses around Jason’s crown as you begin to sway - just slightly. He only hugs you tighter, if that was even possible.

It’s a slow night in your cramped but warmly lit apartment kitchen. But, you have Jason, your Jason, with you - hugging you as if it’s the last time he’ll ever hold you.

_

[gothamlocal]

Old Fire Escapes and Bleeding Vigilantes III

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Civilian! Reader

Description: It's been a week since you last saw Jason. He's etched deep into your mind, just as you are in his. You know that where the danger lies, Jason does also. So instead of letting the danger find you, you decide to chase after it.

Words: 5,417

Warnings: Reader is gender neutral, some swearing, violence (large fires, blood, burns, unconsciousness but no death), suggestiveness (semi-heavy makeout), hurt/comfort.

Part 1 Part 2

_ _

The past few days have weighed heavy on your conscience, with Jason seeping into every crevice of your mind. It hasn’t been long since you moved in and officially met Jason, or the Red Hood. But the shock of his two identities and the lack of closure you had on the situation sent you into a small spiral. You spend your nights after work pacing around your living room before retiring into bed in the early hours of the morning. Maybe, just maybe he’d drop by like he did on the day you moved here. In the mornings, you take small walks around the building trying to catch a glimpse of him but painting the action as a simple ‘morning walk’. 

You can’t help but feel hurt by his avoidance and because of the potential experiences he’d gone through that caused him to ignore you like this. A moment with him is all you need. A small part of you wants him to accept you because you’ve already accepted him. However, you know that your dream might not be possible. You haven’t seen him in a week. 

_ 

“Jason?” 

He froze. His hands twitched at his sides and if you were able to see underneath the beaten, red mask, you’d see the overwhelming panic in his eyes. 

“I think you need to sleep. You hit your head.” He calms down quickly, his hands finding their place at his hips. He stood tall and tried to look like a put together hero, but all you saw was your neighbor, Jason. 

“Jason, please. I know it’s you.” Your voice cracks with fear from the previous encounter lingering on your tongue. 

Jason doesn’t move but turns his head to the side in seemingly deep thought. You place a shaking hand on the dining table in an effort to push yourself up. Your hurt leg buckles and you almost slide down to the floor before strong arms snake around your waist. 

“Just stop this already. Stop moving.” Although the voice modulator does a decent job at hiding his voice, you can still hear the tone of your apartment neighbor. 

Your hands rest on his shoulders and his on your waist. They’re warm and real, keeping you from falling both physically and into sleep. Jason attempts to sit you down before two shaking, but firm hands splay on his chest. 

“No! You stop this- this game, Jason!-” 

“I’m not-” 

“Do you think I’m dense, stupid, ignorant?” Your voice only grows in confusion, anger, and sternness. “I know it’s you. Just stop lying.”’

“Okay.”

The cold tone of his voice shocks you along with the cheap reassurance that he’ll finally tell you what you need to know. Instead of speaking, he picks you up again and places you down on the feeble air mattress. With a soft ‘oomf’ you allow yourself to become comfortable on it. The tension in the room only grows as Jason makes calculated steps towards your front door. 

“Jason-” 

“Just-” he gently lifts his hand up with his palm facing you. “-wait a second.” 

He smoothly walks towards the door and locks it before walking into the other rooms. You hear faint clicks which you could only assume are from your windows being locked. The only noise you hear after that are the heavy footsteps hitting your floor and the slight jingle coming from his jacket and utility belt. 

If you weren’t so dazed from being held hostage a short hour ago, you’d realize that he’s not only doing this for his own piece of mind but to avoid the inevitable conversation. 

He catches your pleading eyes from across the room as he had just emerged from (what’s supposed to be) your bedroom. His shoulders slump for a moment but quickly snap back into attention. At his sides, his hands open and close with faint cracks of his knuckles echoing the room. 

In three long strides, he’s back at your side. He crouches down, but doesn’t spare you a glance. 

You’re sitting upright with your hands placed on your lap. You tilt your head in an attempt to catch his gaze.

“Jason, I’m not scared of you.” 

He doesn’t move. “You don’t even know me.” 

“Yes, but I want to.” You don’t make any sudden movements, the situation is already fragile enough. 

He finally turns to look at you, for a moment too long. 

After a few agonizing beats, he takes a quick breath in and hurriedly stands. 

He whispers before hastily making his way towards the fire escape. “We can’t do this.” 

“Jason!” 

Your neighbor disappears from atop the fire escape.

_ 

That was the last time you two spoke. You don’t see him roam around the apartment building or around this area during patrol. . or he does, but does a great job at hiding from your gaze. It’s almost as if he’s a ghost that once roamed the halls and only serves as a faint memory in your spiraling mind. He reminds you of a warmth that was taken too soon to be satisfied. Now, all you feel is the absence of his presence. 

You thought that you had made a friend, maybe something more with him. The small interactions the two of you shared led you to believe that life in this unforgiving city would be decent, unforgettable, un-regrettable. 

You drag your feet across the unkempt apartment hallway on your way to your door. The heaviness of the day is evident on your face and movements. Dealing with a rude coworker was one thing, but dealing with a boss that was constantly pushing you to your limit was a whole other territory. 

With a soft ‘click’ your door opens and you plop on your small, living room couch. The only upside to your day was the clean apartment. It smelled of lavender and vanilla, courtesy of the wallflower plugged into the wall. 

Although these days are hard you end up being thankful for one thing. It’s always the same. 

Your fire escape. 

With tired eyes and feet, you slowly make your way towards the window. Some strength is needed to open it up but it complies. It’s an inanimate object but it surely must’ve seen the hopeless look in your eyes to open up without a second to struggle. 

You swing one leg over and crawl into the safe space of yours. You push your back against the right side and turn your head towards the city. Gotham doesn’t sleep and these days, neither do you. You can’t help but worry for Jason. The hurried whisper and long contemplation made you ponder on his background. 

How did he become the Red Hood? 

Obviously you understood why he didn’t tell you his identity. For one, you had just met. . twice that day. With a sigh, you rest your pounding head on the fire escape. 

A few moments later, police and fire engine sirens sound from across the street. This isn’t an unusual occurrence in Gotham. In fact, you use the bustling city noises to help you fall asleep since you can’t find a reliable fan. This time, though, you felt different. There was a faint voice inside you that sounded like it was shouting from a great distance. It ushered you to follow the sirens. 

Many people follow the police sirens. Usually those who live off of the local gossip run after these situations and stand outside buildings waiting for a juicy update. You weren’t one of those people, your reasoning was much different. 

There was a good chance Jason would be at this scene. 

You shake your head as if there were butterflies roaming inside. ‘No. No, that’s completely insane.’ 

A low feeling settles in your stomach. One that slowly pushes you to face your worst fears. Honestly, seeing Jason again was one of those fears. 

Well, what would you say? What could you say? You were afraid that no matter what you did, he’d leave your presence forever. No closure, no comfort, no goodbye. You couldn’t live with the feeling of wondering ‘what if’s’ nor could you deal with harsh rejection. 

You decide that closure is better than not knowing. 

Slowly you stand up and look towards the commotion a few buildings down. The usual gossip group has already taken their spots across the street exclaiming their ‘ooh’s and whispered remarks. However, you couldn’t quite tell which building it was. Whichever one it was, it was bursting into flames. 

You rush towards the front door and stop once your hand touches the knob. 

‘There’s no way I can do this’ your eyes droop down. Doubt creeps into your mind and the spiral in your mind only seems to be growing stronger. 

With a quick deep breath you thrust the door open and hurriedly make your way outside and down the street. 

_ 

The air is piercing cold, but the heat from the fire fights it. You decided to stay close with the gossiping groups, not wanting to seem alarmingly out of place. Your face is warm while your back freezes. About five shops are hidden in the smoke, but you can’t make out which exact one is on fire. The best sources are behind you, so you lend a listening ear. 

“Now who would try to burn down a floral shop of all places? Did he think it was gonna smell good or what?” One lady says with a cigarette in her hand.

“Right? He couldn’t set fire to my workplace? It’s only five buildings down.” Another says while adjusting her purple, worn out robe.

You freeze at the mention of a floral shop. 

Heavenly Floral was on fire. 

You had only been there twice, but the old couple who ran the place were sweet enough to leave a lasting impression. They were kind and gave you a ‘welcome’ bouquet after you had accidentally stumbled into their shop one morning. It was the day after Jason disappeared from your fire escape. Their warm smiles meant more to you than they’d noticed. You smelled the fragrant flowers they picked out just for you. You hugged it tightly, but not enough to damage the loving bouquet. 

Now it was up in flames. Fire and smoke encased the entire shop. Smoke was sent down the street and up into the air. The chaos was unraveling before your very eyes. . but there was nothing you could do. 

The flames lit up the street as you watched in horror. You couldn’t say the same for the other watchers. They looked at the scene as if it was straight out of a TV show; no care or compassion, just sly remarks thrown around wherever they could fit them in. 

A few beats had passed before you heard the strong coughs of a man inside the building. He sounded old, hurt, and scared. 

Your ears perk up, immediately sensing who it was. At that moment the police and fire crew had just arrived. It would be expected that a fire of this volume would be taken a bit more seriously, but Gotham PD and its fire crew seemed to take this as a walk in the park. 

“Firefly again?” One police officer nudges the fire chief. 

“Nah, this one looks too sloppy.” 

You turn towards the pair while waving your hands to catch their attention. 

“Hey! There’s people in there! Please, I know them!” you shout towards the crew.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ve got this under control, sweetie. Let us do our jobs” 

Their ‘reassurance’ does nothing to calm you down. You could smell the lie despite the burnt smell already having etched itself into your nose. Their moves aren’t hasty and neither are their minds. 

Living in an especially crummy part of Gotham wasn’t always the greatest, it rarely was. One of the worst things about it are crimes not being taken as seriously here. That’s why you need the Red Hood. That’s why you all need the Red Hood. Of course you do, he’s the only one who cares.

Your heart was burning with anxiety as you stared back into the floral shop. Your mind was frozen and before you could form a coherent thought, your feet moved with haste towards the shop. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through your veins, the fact that you had made friends with the owners, or because there was a slight chance you could see Jason again, but you unhesitantly jumped into the shop. 

“Woah there! Hey! Are you fucking insane?!” you hear one officer yell from afar. The end of his shout was muffled by the sound of the flames. By that time the fear had already infiltrated your blood and declared a spot in your heart. 

“Shit! Guess we’ve got another wacko to worry about!.” 

__

“Hey-” a snap of fingers breaks Jason out of his daze. 

“-Still thinking about them?” Dick sighs and rests his hands on his hips. His hair is ruffled from the last mission they had just completed, his black mask lying next to Jason’s red helmet. 

“No. I could care less” Jason turns his head away from Dick. No matter their past, Dick always had a way of sensing Jason’s true feelings. He’s confronted him one too many times for that not to be true. 

“Don’t you mean you ‘couldn’t’ care less?” 

“You know what I meant.” 

Dick lets out a soft chuckle as Jason runs a calloused hand over his face. His eye bags are prominent and his sullen face has been a constant reminder of his last conversation with you. 

“Oh, I know exactly what you meant, Jaybird.-” Dick puts his hands up in front of him before letting them fall to his sides. 

He knows. Jason knows. Hell, even Alfred knows. 

They know that Jason really could care less … because he cared too much. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jason had been following your movements. His heart shattered everyday, like it was that night all over again, every time he saw you be anything but happy. Jason could only blame himself, after all he was the one who crashed into your life. He made everything worse by being involved with you, even if it was just for a few days. 

Look at what he’s done. 

He couldn’t poison someone like you with the reality of his personal tragedies. 

“Oh shut the f-” a loud beep sounding from the batcomputer interrupts the inevitable bickering. 

DING - DING

Red words flash on the screen; FIRE ALERT: Heavenly Floral (Crime Alley)

Without a second thought Jason jumps out of his seat and runs towards his helmet. 

This was an emergency in his part of town, yes, but there was a chance that you’d be there too. 

He just knew it, and that scared him. 

_

The smoke burned your lungs, and every step shot pain up your spine. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care. A faint silhouette became clearer the closer you came to it. Within five seconds the man you came to know as a friend came into your vision, hunched over and clutching his burnt arm. 

“William! William! I *huff* I’m here to - to help!” 

“Please, Sh- Sheryll! Save her first! Please - save my wife!”

William is kneeling beside his unconscious wife. She lays on the ground next to her broken walker with burns adorning her legs. Your eyes travel up to see the blood on the corner next to the cash register. The bright red stain pairs with the blotch on the side of her head. 

You feel sick to your stomach. Right now, there’s no telling if she’s alive - or how long she has left. 

“Okay, okay, okay-” is all you can repeat as you quickly drag her arm over your shoulders and use your free hand to hold her up by her waist. 

“Please, William - just follow me, please-” 

“ I can’t - I just, just can’t.” William huffs out every word. 

“I’m coming back for you, please just hold on” 

“Come back for me. Please-” 

Tears run down your face but there’s no way you could wipe them from your eyes. Even your tears are warm as you struggle to make your way out of the floral shop. There’s an unconscious woman in your arms and her husband desperately waiting for you. You could only ask where he is right now. 

With your arms burning and your chest heaving, you make your way towards the front entrance. Sheryll begins to cough due to the sudden lack of smoke inhabiting her lungs. Quickly, you place her with a shocked EMT before venturing back in. 

It was only now that the firecrew began their jobs. The second you marched into the building five firefighters made their ways into the occupied spot. You could no longer hear the coughs of William, the flames beginning to expand and cover his once obvious silhouette. 

You didn’t make it in five feet before a large hand pushed you back. This one wasn’t protective, comforting, or calming. Instead it was harsh, firm, and angered. 

“We told you to leave it to us! Get the hell out of here!” 

“But- there’s someone still in here, please you have to help him!”

“Listen to me! We’ve checked, there's no other person here! Now leave!” 

The hand of the fire chief pushed you back once more. You feel your heart sink and your mind go fuzzy. Walking backwards, you make your way back outside where the heat of the fire still encircles your body. 

William was still there, and you knew it. No matter how hard you could’ve tried to warn the officials, they wouldn’t take a chance and believe you. They’d much rather detain you for a ‘psychotic episode’ than believe you. Your heart started to ache and your breath grew into heavy pants. Looking around, there’s no Red Hood in sight. No one to believe you, no one to help you. 

Once more your legs moved before your mind did, and you made swift movements towards the building. The shouts of the firefighters and police officers no longer echoed in your mind the closer you came to William, who was now laid on the floor. 

“Willaim! William, please, I came back! I came back.” Your voice grows softer as you kneel next to him. You grab his hand being careful not to touch the burns that littered it. Placing the hand around you as you did for Sheryll, you grab ahold of his waist with your free arm. 

“Sheryll. Wheres- Where’s Sheryll?” William pants and coughs soon after. You can feel him shifting more of his weight on top of you, it’s evident in the way he shifts and drags his feet on the cluttered floor. 

“She’s okay, William. I brought her out- outside.” you pant. 

Practically dragging him, you almost make it towards the exit. You see the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles just a few steps from you and a wave of relief tries to cover your adrenaline like a sheer quilt. 

In a feeble attempt to make your way swiftly past the firemen, you are stopped by a large piece of wood in front of you. 

“We told you to get -! Oh, oh shit.” with a pale look on his face, one of the firefighters shouts from the other side of the rubble. 

Your voice is too tired to get a simple ‘I told you so’ out, so your eyes communicate for you. They’re sunken, worried, and tired. They’re pleading for help with such desperateness that it cuts through the flames. 

“Alright sweetie just- just hand him over to me.” the firefighter shouts from where he stood, reaching out his arms to grab under Williams arms. 

With all the strength that your adrenaline offered you, you picked up Willaims legs to push him over the piece of wood. You look up towards the firefighter as he carries William as you did before. His eyes widened when he looked behind you and quickly scurried out to save the older man. The fear inside you grew as did the heat hitting your back. Turning around, the flames only grew larger and the smoke was dark enough to create a thick wall between you and the exit. 

The shot of nerves that led you to act so swiftly this entire time started to wear off. Your legs felt as though they had concrete slabs chained to the ankles. Your eyes seemed to be closing without your doing. Your arms shook from the pounds that had been put on them. 

Your ears were too numb to hear the cheers coming from outside. One knee fell to the ground as the flames came inches away from your, now extremely worn, t-shirt. 

All hope had left your body in that moment, as did the adrenaline. You could only sit happily with the thought that you had repaid the lovely, old shop owners. Your heart still stung, though. It stung with the fact that you weren’t going to see him again. To see Jason. To experience what life would’ve been with him in it for more than just three days. 

As your body grew limp, strong and familiar hands grabbed a hold of your waist. You felt weightless as you were carried into these comforting arms. Your mind was elsewhere when the familiar body pressed their cold mask into your neck. If you were more awake, you’d be able to register the shaking voice that vibrated to your body from being pressed against you. 

Their breaths were heavy, just as yours. But, this wasn't due to the smoke filled room, you knew it. It was different, the way it shook proved there was fear etched into the corners of this person's mind. You weren’t able to see who it was and so you could only wonder what they said. . .and what they feared. 

_ 

Jason made his way to the burning scene with Dick following behind him. Although this wasn’t Dick’s place of patrol he feared that if you were here, it would send Jason into a frenzy. 

“Listen, Hood. Go inside and look for survivors, I’ll try and help put this thing out.” 

Jason didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The worry on his tongue continued to sizzle starting from the back of his throat. As he and Dick jumped down to the front of the scene, he heard the shouts and cheers coming from the officials and bystanders. 

One firefighter, the one who brought out William, waved his hands softly towards the two vigilantes. “Hey! Glad you two are here-” Jason only looked toward the fire, offering a small ear towards the man. “-we saved two of them. But this crazy bitch just ran on inside-” 

Jason snapped his head towards the talking man. In the snap of a finger, Jason grabbed the tops of his collar and pulled the man towards him. His voice deepened with anger. 

“Where are they?” The hold Jason had on the man's coat was astronomical. It took everything within him to not shove his face into the ground and stomp on it until the man forgot his own name.

The firefighter shook and squeezed his eyes shut in fear of the Red Hood. “In the- in the building! Near the entrance! They should’ve been out by now!” 

Jason pushed the man to the floor before Dick had time to catch him. Dick could only look on as Jason ran inside with a fury that rivaled the roaring flames. 

The smoke and flames made it almost impossible to see anything. Jason ran all over the place, not caring about the smoke attempting to seep into his mask. He looked around the building until his eyes landed on a limp, kneeling figure. 

“[name], please.” His voice was weak and grew more feeble by the second. He ran towards you, jumping over the large piece of wood and quickly grabbed ahold of you. With you in his arms, he squeezed you, almost trying to fuse himself with you. His head found a place in your neck as he breathed in. 

At that moment, there was no more time to be wasted. Jason jumped through the smoke, debris, and flames to make it outside. His gaze found Dick’s first. 

The older brother saw the desperation evident in Jason’s body language. He was hunched, breathy, and his grip on you was tight- tighter than the one he had on the firefighter. Running up to him, he looked over at your tired body and talked softly to Jason. 

“The manor. Take them there. The injuries aren’t too serious. You need to talk to them.” 

Jason immediately shook his head. “No! No, they don’t… need me to talk to them.” 

“They have no one else. Did you ever wonder how they ended up here? Don’t be a fuckin’ idiot”

Dick gave a quick tilt to his head and huffed in annoyance. “I’ll take care of things here. Now go.”

_ 

Your eyes open softly and immediately catch the eyes of Jason who has yet to rid of his mask. 

You huff out a whispered realization. “Jason-” 

“Why did you go in there?” Jason doesn’t look at you. His arms are crossed as he looks down at the living room couch, the biggest one in the manor. 

“That’s such a stupid question. I helped my friends.”

Jason scoffs as he turns towards you. “Yeah, and no one was there to help you.” 

“Yes there was. You came-” 

“What if I didn’t?”

“I knew you would. That’s why I ran - I was so sure you’d be there, Jason. And look -” you attempt to sit up and lay your head against the armrest, with your left hand under. “- I was right.” 

Jason, who was sitting on a chair next to the couch, set his elbows on his knees. His hands swiftly came to hold his head as he ducked down. “We can’t do this- you know that.” 

“You say that, but I don’t believe it. In fact, you’re the only one who says it.”

Jason abruptly stands and walks towards the fireplace that stood just a few feet from the couch. 

“You don’t know who I am! We can’t- I can’t do this with you. I’m too far gone and you’ll never understand that.” 

Just as he stood up, you quickly sat up on the couch. With your head still pounding you look towards Jason with teary eyes. “I want to know, Jason-” 

You let a beat pass. “- and you’re right. You’re right, I might not ever understand what you’ve been through because I'm not you. But I want to know - and I want to love you.” 

Jason turns towards you as you slowly get up off the couch. You make small, calculated steps towards him. You fiddle with your hands to occupy your nerves. 

“You shouldn’t want to love me. You- you need to leave me alone.” 

“You can’t tell me what to do, Jason. I don’t even think you want me to leave you alone.” 

He doesn’t move and his gaze only lingers on your shaking form. 

“You don’t know what I’ve been through. You don’t know the things- the horrible things that I’ve done. I’ll only ruin someone, someone like you.” 

You’re only just a few steps away now. The only thing in the way is his dark, red mask. Slowly, your hands travel up to his head. You try to lift it once, softly, to no avail. Jason’s hands came up to cover yours. They’re warm and calloused, much like his personality. He presses his hands against yours and lets up with a clicking sound to follow it. Both pairs of hands lift up, and with a hiss from the pressurized air, the helmet slips off his head. 

He lets the helmet fall to the ground with a soft ‘thump’. Your breaths linger together due to the sudden closeness. His eyes bore into yours and you meet him with the same intensity. 

“And that’s okay, Jason” 

Jason's eyes widened as he placed his hands on your waist. He doesn’t leave a second to spare before he rushes his lips to yours. Your hands travel once more up his chest and then to his neck where your arms encircle it. He swallowed your initial gasps and in return you tugged him closer. Warmth radiated from both of your bodies as your mouths danced in unison. 

Jason’s hands explored your body, starting from your waist, to the small of your back, and to the base of your head. His left arm pushed you towards him from your waist as his right hand pressed your head unbelievably closer to his own. 

You let out a soft whimper as his tongue asked permission to enter your mouth. Opening your mouth slightly, you welcome him. There wasn’t any way that he could be closer, you thought. Just as you did so, Jason spun you around and softly pressed you against the wall next to the fireplace. From the waist up the two of you were up against each other. Your tongues explored each other for a few extra moments before you both pulled away for air. He barely pulled away with his lips just ghosting yours. 

You close your eyes for a moment before you feel the press of his head against yours. 

Jason was the first to speak, or whisper, rather. “I left you there” 

“I know” 

“I’m- I’m sorry” 

“I know” 

You looked into his eyes and saw the vulnerability dripping from his pupils.

“Jason. I’m so sure about this. I’m not acting out of impulsiveness, believe me. I’ve spent this entire week just with you on my mind. I want you, Jason.” 

Jason’s hands left your side and came up to softly cup your cheeks. “From the moment I met you, I knew that I wanted you. I just didn’t know if I deserved it.” 

You place your hands over his much larger ones. “You don’t have to deserve anything. I’m right here, meant only for you.” 

Jason kissed you again, but it was softer this time. There was no hurriedness or fear, only certainty and desire. His lips were soft as they moved against yours. Pulling away, Jason hugged you - almost as tight as he did in the burning building.   

. . .

“...is this a bad time to ask how the hell you were able to move my car without the keys in the ignition?” 

You felt the vibration of Jason’s laugh in your neck. His mouth opened to speak, but the loud ring sounding from his pocket interrupted him. He groaned before stepping back slightly and answering his phone. 

“Di- Nightwing. . yeah that’s good to hear. What? No, they’re-” Jason looks towards you. He smiles. 

“No, they’re okay.”

After a few moments and a couple ‘mhms’, Jason hangs up the phone and steps towards you again. He brings his hands up to rub them up and down your sore arms. 

“Everyone is alright. The owners wanted to sincerely thank you. Heard you were pretty brave.” 

You scoff with a roll of your eyes. “Someone had to be! Those firefighters and officers are absolutely useless! I did a good deed. Of course, though, I got to see you again” You let out a chuckle in an attempt to make light of the unfortunate situation only to turn and see complete seriousness in the eyes of Jason. 

“I don’t know what I would’ve done with myself if something were to have happened to you.” 

“Right? Who else’s balcony would you crash on?” 

Jason gave you a doubtful look and pulled you closer before you spoke. “-but thank you. You really did save me. . . for the third time.” 

Jason looked into your eyes and spoke low and soft. “You know that I'll always be there. There’s no getting rid of me now.”

You smile up at him before laughing. 

“That’s good, because I would love to know where we are right now.” 

In a moment of realization, Jason gasps slightly and puts a hand over your eyes. 

“I’m taking you home.” 

“Woah okay- am I being blinded the whole way there?”

“Yes, actually.” Jason says before scooping your legs up and carrying you towards the entrance of the manor, his hand still firm over your eyes. 

“Oh!-” you yelp before making yourself comfortable in his arms.”- well since you can’t tell me where we are, could you please tell me how you ended up on my balcony in the first place? I want every detail, Jay” 

Jason smiles at the nickname, intending for you not to see, but you can hear it slightly in his voice.

“Yes. Yes, anything for you.”

_ _

My sincerest apologies for taking so long to get this last part out. I guess I put too much pressure on myself to make this a good chapter that I just avoided it all together.

I really hope you enjoyed and I wanted to thank everyone for the love and support you've shown for this small series!

i literally watched beauty and the beast a total of 2.5 times when writing the last part of this chapter btw. it was amazing inspo

taglist: @lulasagna @justhere2readxd @nico707 @thatxcgal @cattleray @mimimovv @salvatt1 @franbowidk @lvlyu @pizzaizzaaaaaaa @roastyyytoastyyy @samaeruru

[gothamlocal]

Damian Wayne runs a strict program

Pairings: platonic!Damian Wayne x Reader + Jason Todd x Reader

Words: ~930

Warnings: gender-neutral reader, mentions of violence, and use of the name ‘sweetheart’.

_

One of your biggest regrets in life wasn’t the fact that you hadn’t traveled to Italy or become a doctor yet.

No. It was sharing your location with Damian.

One night you were trapped in a gas station with a few others being held hostage by a wannabe, big-time criminal. Damian and Jason just about demolished the building. You thought no one would be able to match the protectiveness of Jason, but Damian came very close. At times, he rivaled him.

Jason rescued you first and let Dick, Tim, and Steph handle the other victims. His strong hands caged in your waist as he held you close and firmly.

“Are you hurt? Why didn’t you tell me you were going out tonight?” His gaze is piercing, but his tone isn’t. An outsider would think that he’s blaming you for this situation, when that isn’t the case. Jason genuinely worries (especially, considering his background) and asks that you share with him where you’re going, for safety purposes.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were going out tonight?” Damian pipes from behind Jason. A sigh escapes your boyfriend’s lips before loosening his grip and turning towards Damian with you still in his arms.

“Leave it. This is between us -”

“Yes, us as in the two of you-” Damian points to the hugging pair before motioning towards himself. “-and me.”

“Listen, Dami. It was just a quick ice-cream run-”

“An ice cream run that could’ve cost your life.” Damian pairs his snarky tone with a tilt to his head. You feel a tinge of guilt bubble inside your stomach.

“I hate to agree with him, sweetheart. You obviously didn’t ask for this-” Jason motions his head across the street toward the gas station. “-to happen. But you live in Gotham. Something is always gonna be there.”

You sigh, knowing that your two vigilantes had a point. To be honest, you were just so hangry and desperate for a sweet treat that you hadn’t bothered to send a quick text to Jason. The shop was only a few minutes away from your apartment anyway.

Luckily, the situation wasn’t as dangerous as the boys had made it seem to be. It would’ve been scarier if the perpetrator didn’t have a voice crack between every word and trembling hands.

“Alright, alright. Would it just be better if I shared my location with you?”

And that’s how you ended up with a small vigilante at the foot of your bed.

Damian looks at your sleeping form with a disappointed look in his eyes. Your location was turned off with the last ping being two hours ago. He’s here despite the fact that you assured him and Jason that you’re staying in for the night.

Damian is always on you for keeping your location updated and your phone charged. He claims that he ‘just doesn’t want you to do anything stupid’, but you know better than that. He’s just a boy who’s scared about losing someone he cares about, although he’d never admit that.

With the uneasy feeling of eyes boring into your skull, you slowly open your eyes and move to turn on your bedside lamp. The five seconds it takes you to wake up and turn on the lamp are full of anxiety considering that Jason is gone for patrol until morning. Your eyes try to adjust to the warm toned lamp before making out the figure that stands at the foot of your bed.

“Hmm, OH MY-” You shout before falling from your bed and onto the floor with a loud ‘oomf’.

“DAMIAN? Damian?! What are you- please don’t do that ever ever again!” you lay on the carpeted floor trying to catch your breath while he makes small steps towards you.

“Your location was off.” he deadpans.

“My phone is dead, Damian! I told you that I was going to be home for the rest of the night.”

“Charge your phone then.”

“I would if you hadn’t taken my last charger.”

“You have my email.”

“Damian, I’m not going to send you an email detailing why my location was off for a few hours.” You sit up and place a hand over your heart. You finally caught your breath, but the shock of the night was still weighing heavy.

Arguing with him was useless, you thought. You look towards the digital clock on your nightstand and see the glowing numbers shine ‘2:25’.

You turn towards him and pat the clock once. “You just finished with patrol?”

He nods.

“Well, you need to sleep and stop worrying about me. If it makes you feel any better, I'll make sure to go the extra step and send you an email next time.”

“Fine. I’m sleeping here.” He then plops on the bed like a sack of rice, not giving any consideration to Jason who’ll be home in just a few hours.

He wriggles into a comfortable position before you stand up and lay near him. He’s curled up next to you as you pat his head slowly while making small circles on his crown. Patrol must’ve taken a toll on him. You see it on the cleaned scrapes on his hands and the tension lines on his forehead.

A beat goes by.

“So, how should I send off my emails? I was thinking ‘best regards’ or ‘yours truly’ but honestly, I’m kinda torn.” You giggle as you poke fun at Damian’s email formalities. The joke only earns you a sigh and then a few soft snores.

A week after that you receive an email on your computer:

Your location is off again. Why?

Yours truly,

Damian W.

_

yes im writing this at 1 am because im having serious writers block when it comes to Old Fire Escapes and Bleeding Vigilantes III

anyway, hope you enjoyed. im determined to finish the series !

tags: @thatsavioletiontobe

[gothamlocal]

sorry for the delay on Old Fire Escapes and Bleeding Vigilantes III

been having some writers block but i will be trying to push it out soon

OH AND thanks for all the lovely feedback on my latest post!!! MUAH MUAH

[gothamlocal]

Damian, you are so psyched!

─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · · · · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · · · · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─

─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · · · · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · · · · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─

Pairings: Platonic!Damian Wayne x Reader + Jason Todd x Reader

Description: Ever since Damian came home from school yesterday, he’s been acting off. So, you make it your goal to cheer up the distant little boy. 

“Do you wanna go grocery shopping with me?” You interrupt the piercing silence. 

A moment passes before Damian looks up at you. “. . . Can we stop by the animal shelter?” 

“What kind of person would I be if we didn’t?”

Words: 4,148

A/N: I’ve had this idea for a while and have finally decided to put it into a fic. Heavily inspired by the movie Uptown Girl (go watch it, its so fab) Warnings: fem reader, no use of y/n, mentions of bullying (poor dami), hurt/comfort, some swearing.

_

It’s been about three months since Jason (reluctantly) introduced you to his family. You’ve been dating for about a year at that point, but it was understandable why he didn’t want you to meet them for a while, or at all. Family is a touchy subject for Jason, considering his past experiences. A bit of a push and reassurance in the form of soft touches were enough to get him to bring you over for a dinner one night. 

The manor was warm and the smell of food immediately filled your senses the second Alfred opened the door. The older gentleman offered you a warm smile where his eyes crinkled at the corners. You needed that, you really did. Jason did nothing to calm your nerves (or his more so) as he spent the entire way to the manor warning you of his family. 

“And Tim might ask you for a DNA sample, but he’ll probably get one from you either way-” Jason is currently rambling while driving to the manor, going way under the speed limit. His hand is placed on your thigh, grasping and rubbing it to calm himself. 

You cut him off before he can psych himself out of the dinner. “-Jason, I’m sure they’re not as unhinged as you claim they are. You’re more nervous than me.” You chuckle as you place your hand over his where it rests on your thigh. 

“Could you also like. . speed it up. You’re going 35 in a 55 right now.” 

“Why would I want to get there any faster?”

Despite Jason nearly trembling the entire night, the dinner was great. It was full of laughs and playful banter with each person making you feel part of the family. By the end of the day you, Tim, and Dick made a group chat called “Maybe: Pizza Hut” for the sole purpose of organizing pranks behind Jason’s back.

But that wasn't the highlight of the night, no. It was meeting a special little boy, Damian. 

Jason had told you about Damian’s upbringing and cautioned you to not take what the boy said to heart. He was blunt, a bit cold, and bratty according to your boyfriend. Despite his warnings, you noticed how Jason’s eyes softened when talking about him. 

Upon meeting Damian, the two of you clicked. He had a certain sass about him that you loved to banter with. Damian studied your reactions and saw no signs of disgust, annoyance, or defensiveness when he’d spew a sly comment.

It intrigued him as he was not used to outsiders matching him in that way. Usually, they’d whine to Bruce or ignore the boy entirely. 

Your relationship blossomed from there. 

Damian would stop by during patrol to chat with you. Once you’d hear small footsteps on your fire escape, you get up to make a pot of tea. The window slides open and, much like a cat, Damian slowly lands on the floor with no noise following him. 

Other times when he wasn’t on patrol but didn’t want to be at home, he’d go to your place. When he’d go quiet, you’d sit in silence with him doing mundane activities. You never pushed him to talk, never made him feel bad for staying silent, and didn’t offer advice when he didn’t want it. The friendship was still new, and you didn't want to ward him off.

You listened, offering a silent but comforting shoulder to cry on. Well, hypothetically. You still have never seen him cry. 

It still surprises you when he doesn’t show up for tea during his Friday night patrol. 

_ 

It’s around two in the morning when Jason settles in for the night. He quietly steps into the house through the living room window, taking extra care to not wake you up. He curses to himself when his boot slips from his hands when trying to silently slide them off. He’d learn about fifteen minutes later, though, that there was no need. You were up and unable to sleep.

It’s not unusual for this to happen- you’d normally claim that it was because Jason wasn’t next to you. This time the feeling was different, it was a knowing feeling. 

After his shower, Jason soundlessly made his way to your “sleeping” form. Your eyes are closed in an attempt to force sleep upon you. A smile adorns his face once he sees your body calmly tucked in the sheets.

Jason slides into bed, softly grabbing and bringing you against his chest. He tucks his face into your shoulder, taking in your scent. One hand goes under your waist and the other to your face. He finds comfort in you, your warmth, softness, and smell. A sigh of relief is released as he swipes a strand of hair from your face. 

“Oh you’re so beautiful, baby” 

“thanks” 

Jason flinches and lets out a curse of surprise. 

“Oh shit- Why aren’t you asleep, you freak?!”

“Sorry. I just can’t sleep, Jason. I- I feel weird. You know? It’s this gut feeling.” You grab Jason’s hand that once parted your hair a few moments ago. You play with his fingers while staring out to the calm darkness of the room before glancing at Jason. He relaxes against you once more, sighing into your neck. Sleep is tugging at him even if you had just scared him half to death. 

Jason cracks an eye open “. . .You want to do that now?”

“You disgust me.” 

“You’re the one who said it.” 

You sigh and roll your eyes at your boyfriend. “It’s not that. It’s -” you wiggle closer into the comforter trying to figure out what it was that was plaguing your mind. Your breath hitches before turning in bed to face an exhausted Jason. He tiredly pulls you closer and places your foreheads together. 

“Have - have you seen Damian at all today? He. . didn’t stop by. He usually lets me know.” You tried your best not to sound like an overbearing mother, but you couldn’t help but worry. There are times when Damian doesn’t stop by, but he saves you the trouble by letting you know in advance. 

You bring your hands up to Jason’s chest, tracing the faint scars that adorn his body. He hums in acknowledgement and drowsiness. 

“Yeah. Saw him. . right as my patrol started. Said he was heading home. I asked him about seeing you. Didn't answer and went home.” 

That’s what brought you to the front steps of the Wayne Manor on an early Saturday morning. 

_

You barely have time to knock on the enormous front door before it’s carefully swung open by Alfred. He smiles once he lays his eyes upon you, ushering you in before saying hello. 

“Hello, Miss [name]. I didn’t know you’d be visiting today, my apologies.” Alfred chatted with his hands behind his back. His moves are smooth but he closes his eyes for a second with a slight bow of his head in an apology. 

You walk into the manor and move your head to all positions to get a better look at the place. This home never fails to amaze you, with its walls decorated with paintings and adornments so expensive it could sustain half of Gotham. The first time you visited, your breath audibly got stuck in your throat and you struggled to get a simple ‘hello’ out. No matter what background you come from, a sight such as this will always leave you breathless. Even now, you’ve been a weekly visitor and you frequently take small moments to admire the place. 

Snapping out of the slight trance, you turn to face Alfred with a small wave of your hand and calm smile. “Oh, no, that's quite alright . This . . was actually a last minute decision. I should be the one apologizing for not checking in.” You chuckle at the end of your sentence as embarrassment creeps onto your cheeks in the form of redness. Maybe you should’ve called. . .

Alfred happily sighs already knowing why you stopped by; he was wondering when you would. He noted the shift in atmosphere when Damian came home from patrol on time yesterday, which he doesn’t do often since he normally visits you. 

“Master Damian is out back with Titus. Would you like me to prepare some brunch or tea?” Alfred softly voices with a tilt of his head. 

You let out a relieved and semi-over dramatic sigh with a wide smile adorning your face. “No, that’s okay. I was actually going to ask if he’d want to go out into town with me. Maybe he’ll, I don't know, cheer up?” The last part was lower in pitch as you look down at the ground. A small fraction of worry seemed to be sneaking its way into your bones. You shake it off, though. For you all you know, Damian could be perfectly fine and just didn’t want to speak to you. That thought just about breaks your heart.

As you start to walk off towards the backyard of the manor, Alfred calls out to you. Turning around, you see his hands are now situated in front of him and there’s a slight wrinkle to his eyebrows. 

“He’s been that way since he came home from school Friday afternoon.” 

You don’t answer, only offering a tight lined smile and worried wrinkles on your face. 

You know he struggles in school, not academically but socially. This is the only part of his life that he doesn’t speak much on; maybe he wants to keep a cool profile. You make your way to the large door leading to where Damian was sitting. It was a large porch with decorated concrete flooring and a high over top.  He’s petting a sleeping Titus with one hand, and his head is resting on the other. There’s a dejected look in his eyes, probably running through all the situations he recently faced in school. 

You make slow and calculated steps towards him - but those damn car keys, the ones that Jason scolds you for having too many keychains on, blows your silent cover. Damian’s head snaps towards you and then snaps back. He curls into himself just a tad, not wanting to be seen by anyone, especially you. You sigh through your nose and sit next to him. Not too close as to annoy him, but not too far to make it seem like you’re afraid of him. 

With a nudge of your arm to his, you happily start the conversation. “Hey, you didn’t visit yesterday. Getting tired of me?” You voice sarcastically. He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even glance at you. 

It’s in these moments that you applaud all the hardworking mothers who comfort their children during their wrestling of emotions. It’s difficult to tell between the movements that are going to make them want to open up and the ones that will make them push you away. With Damian, this is an especially complex decision. He’s already closed off as it is and you want him to be comfortable enough to share the emotions he was forced to shove down in his early stages of childhood. You can spend hours sobbing just thinking about the lack of love he received. Love not only being physical comfort, but also room to explore and learn how to properly navigate his emotions. 

You stay quiet and look ahead of you. You can only hope that this silence turns into a comfortable flow, but it doesn’t. It’s still uncomfortable, like there's a tension in the air that won’t go away no matter how hard you try to relax. It makes you antsy and you want to move around before deciding to stay where you were; calmly sat next to Damian 

“Do you wanna go grocery shopping with me?” You interrupt the piercing silence. 

Many moments pass before Damian finally looks up at you. “. . . Can we stop by the animal shelter?” 

“What kind of person would I be if we didn’t?” 

Damian doesn’t smile, but there’s a ghost of one on his lips. You decided that even if he didn’t want to speak on what was bothering him, having a day with him was better than nothing at all. 

The two of you walk side by side the front of the manor where your car was parked . . hastily. With a click of a button the car unlocks and the two of you take your respective seats. Here is where you notice another unusual occurrence; Damian always asks if he can drive, despite only being twelve. In response you laugh and say ‘yeah, when you can reach the pedals.’ That . . didn’t happen this time. 

You start up the car and glance at Damian who is currently giving a small wave to Titus through the front window. It makes you smile. He’s just a little boy. 

Starting to drive off, you audibly note what’s on the grocery list and agenda for the day. 

“Okay! We need ingredients for dinner, snacks for the week, and some basic cleaning supplies. Then, it’s off to the animal shelter.” 

Damian still doesn’t speak but it’s nothing to you. This is a normal day with your best friend. You don’t want to push emotions out of him. So, you just keep on talking like you usually do. Only this time there are no quips between your rambles. 

“Heavy on the snacks for the week part. I swear, when Dick stops by, he acts as if it’s his last time eating. And don’t even get me started on Tim, I’m out of all my little electrolyte packets. Mind you, Dami, I bought- like- a fifty pack... . two days ago,” You giggle only slightly at the remembrance of the scene where Jason went through the pantry for one of the packets only to find a sticky note on the empty bag saying: 

‘buy more of the watermelon flavor pls and thank u - Tim’ 

You see Damian visibly relax at the nickname. Comfortable that you aren’t pushing him, he finally speaks. “Mango is the better flavor.” 

You try not to sound too happy as to scare him off. “Then how ‘bout this: we buy a ton of watermelon packets and save a secret stash of mango only where you can find it.” 

With a smile, Damian voices a soft ‘okay’. You quickly pull into the parking lot and shake with excitement at the emptiness. You and Damian didn’t enjoy shopping with a ton of people. 

While in the store, you push the cart while Damian holds onto the front edge believing that he’s the one controlling it when you actually just push it where he wants to go. During your grocery stroll, you end up in the dried goods aisle. You didn’t need anything from here, personally, but you noticed how Damian was looking at it from afar. The cart stopped right in front of the rice assortment. 

Damian looks around at the variety before sighing. 

“Are you having a rice epiphany over there?” 

“No.” 

“Then why are you staring at the bags like they personally offended you.” 

Damian turns to look at you and then switches his gaze to the floor. He looks a little embarrassed with a faint blush to his cheeks. 

“I used to eat this specific dish, all the time, before I came to live with my father. I asked Alfred to make me some but . . . he never uses the correct, uh, rice.” Damian says, but the last part sounded high pitched and almost like a lie.

“Well we’re here now, Damian. Let’s make it for dinner” 

He looks at you surprised and confused. “No, no you already had an idea in mind before we came here. Let’s just make that.” 

“Screw the plan, Damian. I’m much more interested in this . . . what’s it called?” you pick up a bag of rice and look at the ingredients inquisitively, pretending to know what you’re looking for. 

“Mujadara.” 

“Mujadara it is, Dami. What else do we need? Lead the way” You completely let go of the cart and step aside so Damian can take over. This time, you’re the one holding the front of the cart. 

_ 

With a car full of groceries, you and Damian make your way to the animal shelter. Damian seems visibly calmer and almost falls out of the car in excitement to see the animals. He’s a regular at almost every Gotham shelter, sanctuary, aquarium - you name it. He seems to enjoy this one especially since they have an option where you can hang out with all the kittens in a quiet and secluded room. 

Damian doesn’t even spare the receptionist a glance before walking towards the kitten room. “Hello, Janis. We’re going to be with the kittens.” 

“Oh, alright! He- hello to you too, Damian” Janis the receptionist says with a giggle. You offer her a smile and a soft ‘sorry’ before following Damian.

You sit next to Damian and grab one of the sleepy kittens to hold in your lap. Petting the little ball of fur, you turn towards Damian. It hurts that he’s been hiding everything up until this point. You want to help and are sure that pushing down his feelings is only going to make his struggles worse. You didn’t want to push. .  but no one said you couldn’t nudge. 

“Damian.” you start. 

“Hm?” he doesn’t look up from the five kittens he’s holding in his arms. 

You brace yourself with an inhale. “What happened yesterday?” 

He freezes, but you stay strong and make no sudden movements. He visibly stiffens and his brows knit together in frustration. 

“Just because I don’t visit you for a day means there’s something wrong with me? I feel sorry for you.” He spat while softly placing the kittens down and folding his arms. If you were anyone else, you’d start tearing up. But thankfully, you know Damian. You knew he didn’t mean it and was only using his words as a cover for how he truly felt. 

“I know something happened, Damian. Refusing to acknowledge that is going to make things worse.” 

“You’re pitying me.”

This defensiveness is nothing new to you, recognizing the same traits in Jason. It took some time for Jason to be completely comfortable with you. You stayed consistent through every step.

“I don’t pity you. But I do love you. That’s why I’m asking these questions . .Listen, if you really don’t want to speak about it just say the word and it’s done.” You say calmly. “But, there is something there that you’re not facing.”

Suddenly, you hear Damian’s breath hitch and his shoulder shake for a moment. He doesn’t face you, unfolds his arms and places his hands on either side of his head with his elbows resting on his crossed legs. 

“I lied.” 

“What?” 

“About- About the meal. I bought all the ingredients myself for Alfred to make it. I spent so much time making sure I had the correct brands and everything. He - He made it just for me. I..took it to school. My classmates. They all just …stared.” 

You bring a hand to your mouth in an attempt to stop tears from forming. 

Damian makes a mock kiddy voice: “What the hell is this, Damian? Ew, Damian, this stinks. Why would you eat this, Damian? You really are a freak, Damian.”

He continues: “They poked, prodded, and. . just… shoved it to the floor. I didn’t get to eat it. I didn’t get to eat any of it. It was the only recipe I completely remember from home. And- And they called me a freak for it.” 

At this point Damian had completely curled up into himself with his knees to his chest and his arms securely around his knees. You make your way towards him, careful not to scare him. Your warm hand finds its way to his back where it rubs comforting circles. Your other hand caresses through his hair, something he’d never admit that he enjoyed. 

The silence is broken by soft sobs coming from Damian. Another unusual and rare occurrence, Damian crying. 

“I’m- I am always a freak to them. I can’t do anything about it, can I? I can’t. The second I do, I- I’ll be labeled a ‘problem’.” He finally brings his head out to look at you with red eyes and tear stained cheeks. 

“Do you think I’m a freak?” He’s staring at you, desperate for an answer. But, it’s so simple. 

“Yes, I do. The best people are. The worst people I know aren’t freaks. Criminally insane? Yes. But never a freak.” you state matter-of-factly. The way you instantly answered made it seem like Damian was a fool for not knowing the answer. 

“Jason. Jason’s a freak. So is Dick, Tim, your father…Alfred! He’s one too, believe it or not.” 

Damian studies your words: “They’re all freaks to you?” 

“Hey. It takes one to know one, am I right?”

That remark earns you a small smile from Damian. You scoot closer to him, and he pushes himself into your arms in a crushing hug. His arms are around your neck and his face hidden in your shoulder, not letting go. 

“It’s okay to cry and it’s okay to let people know when you aren’t feeling well-” you let out a sigh paired with a slight waver in your voice. “-I love you so much, Damian. I’m always here for you. So is Jason, but I think I’m a better candidate in the emotions department.” You offer with a laugh near the end. Damian only hugs you tighter. 

Damian’s voice still holds the ghost of a sob: “Thank you.. . just thank you” 

You pull away, only slightly to look him in the eye. He pulls back slightly, too, and wipes his tears on his arm. 

“C’mon, Jason’s going to be home soon. We need to show him the recipe you showed me.” 

_ 

A few hours later you’re sitting at your dinner table with Jason and Damian. The food is plated and sat in front of the three of you. Around Jason, Damian wants to act ‘cooler’ in a way. Not wanting to be teased for his excitement, he just stares at his food while waiting for you to grab the utensils. 

Placing spoons in front of Jason and Damian, you place a quick peck to your boyfriend’s head before glancing at Damian. The boy is practically shaking with excitement, but fighting to not show it on his face. You and Jason give each other knowing looks before giggling. 

“What?” Damian turns the giggling pair. 

“Damian, you are so psyched!” You cheer because you were filled with nerves while making the dish, not wanting to ruin it for Damian. 

“Whatever.” the boy spews back with a roll of his eyes. 

“Oh, say it Damian. Say ‘I am so psyched for this meal’.” You place your hands on the table and lean your body towards him expectantly. 

A blush creeps on his face as he groans and looks at you, annoyed. “I’m psyched, okay” 

Jason chuckles behind his glass of water. “That’s all we needed to hear.” 

“You two are literally tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum” with a roll of his eyes once more, Damian takes a spoonful into his mouth. Even with his facade, he couldn’t help the smile that made itself evident on his face. 

The three of you enjoyed the meal with little to no words exchanged, that’s how delicious it was. (you silently pat yourself on the back)

Damian finishes first and goes for seconds. Right as he does so, you get up to grab some napkins. Standing next to each other, he nudges your arm slightly. 

“Thank you.” he says softly while spooning more onto his plate

You smile and turn towards him “No problem, Damian.. . just do me a favor, yeah?” 

“What?” 

“Let me know when you’re not stopping by-” before you can finish your sentence Jason quipped from the dinner table. 

“Because she literally couldn’t sleep without seeing you during patrol” your boyfriend voices with his mouth full.

You and Damian laugh as you chuck an empty, plastic salt shaker at Jason. 

“He’s not wrong though, Dami. I just worry.” You’re a bit embarrassed at how overbearing you come off. 

Damian smiles at you while putting his plate down on the counter beside you. Without another second passing, he hugs you again. “I’ll let you know, don't worry.” 

On this day, you had a breakthrough with Damian, and a stronger connection was formed. Jason could only smile from his spot across the kitchen. Although he didn’t want to introduce you to the family at first, he’s so glad he did, especially after you quietly told him before bed how Damian cried around you for the first time. He never thought that this brat of a boy would take so kindly to you. It warms his heart as it does yours- It’s a calm and comforting feeling. 

Now every Saturday is ‘Damian’s choice’ night with you, Damian, and Jason. 

_

okay i did some research on meals that coincide with Damian’s background- I sincerely apologize if I added something wrong. From what I gathered, mujadara is a Middle-Eastern dish consisting of ingredients, such as lentils, rice, and various spices ! Let me know if there are any corrections to be made! 

p.s pls let me know if you want to be tagged in all my works or just specific ones! i get nervous and don’t want to tag people who don’t want to be tagged 😭

[gothamlocal]

wrote an entire first half for a fic and completely scrapped it. i already knew that i didn’t like it before then, but i was forcing my self to write because i wanted to get something out today.

i had to remind myself that its about quality not quantity (obvi lol)

so, sorry about the wait - hopefully i can get this fic out tomorrow! xoxo

[gothamlocal]

Do you have any other works in other socials?(AO3, Wattpad, etc)

no, i’ve just been posting on tumblr !

i have considered AO3 tho…

i actually used to write fanfics a while back (like im talking 2016-2018) and posted on all three sites. But, i deleted them :(

[gothamlocal]

Old Fire Escapes and Bleeding Vigilantes II

Jason Todd (Red hood) x Civilian Reader

Description: After a heart-racing encounter with a bleeding vigilante on your first day in Gotham, you wake up to a new tire fixed on your car and the vigilante nowhere to be seen. With that, most of your current problems are solved. You take this time to grow closer with your handsomely awkward neighbor, Jason.  However, another encounter with the Red Hood implies that your quick interaction meant more to him than he expressed. 

Words: 3,927

A/N: Reader is gender neutral, no use of y/n, swearing, mentions of rude family/friends, violence (mentions of knives, a small hostage situation, blood, and canon-typical violence). Part 1 Here Part 3 Here

_

You wake up to a cold chill, shivering on your small air-matress. The window was left open a crack, letting Gotham’s morning air seep through it. You didn’t mind but silently cursed yourself for being so careless, especially in this part of town. But, after all you’d been through yesterday, you gave yourself some grace. There wasn’t anything to rob anyway, unless the thief wanted a used up first aid kit and a dented water bottle. 

Last night’s events immediately ran through your mind like it was a mental race track. Just who was that man in the red mask? Was he dangerous? Why was he kind of a smart ass? 

He didn’t harm you, but he could. He knows where you live and must’ve seen the empty look to your apartment. You slowly get up, rubbing your tired eyes and feel over the carpeted, living-room floor for your phone. 

11:45 am.

Oh, the car. 

Your breath leaves your lungs. Your car was still parked in the no-parking zone. Not only are you trying to avoid a parking ticket, but also the burning eyes of your landlord who seems like he’s looking for any reason to kick you out. Quickly standing up, still in your clothes from yesterday, (except for your bloody shirt being thrown aside) you run towards your windows. Looking down, your car is nowhere to be seen. 

“No, no, no, no! Don’t do this to me!” You shout. 

They must’ve towed the car, it’s no longer there. At that point, you almost fell to your knees. Gotham was supposed to be a great opportunity for you. A new job, better pay, cheap rent, finally independent. All you had to do was deal with the violence that blanketed itself over the city. Is this it? Is this the end of your dream? Maybe you should’ve stayed back home, everyone had warned you.

 The car had your life packed in there. Where does one go from here?

Heart racing, you put on your shoes, grabbed your keys, ran down the stairs and outside to where you last saw your car. 

It still wasn’t there. 

Tears well up in your eyes and large streams start to run down your face. You didn’t mean to, but sobs involuntarily escaped your mouth. In an undershirt, wrinkled pants, and shoes with small splotches of vigilante blood on them, you stood there in despair. You could already hear the voices of your hometown friends and family tearing you apart for wanting to explore a new city. You had to leave though, they made you feel so empty. 

“Hello- oh damn. Didn’t realize you’d be that happy for not getting a parking ticket. I said you’d be fine.” 

You gasp and quickly turn around. The suddenness of the voice made you choke on your tears. You cough for a few seconds and quickly wipe away your tears, making your once clouded vision clear again. 

“I told you not to scare me again, damnit!” You voice as soon as Jason comes into your vision.

You motion towards the no-parking space where your car once sat. “Man, you seriously think I’m happy right now?! My car is gone!” You say with spaced emphasis on the last sentence. 

He looks taken aback by your loud response. You feel bad for shouting at him, just a bit. He’s holding a steaming to-go cup full of coffee. He’s sporting a black leather jacket and black shirt that looks a tad oversized. How fashionable, you sarcastically think.

 His eyes though, are tired, looking as if he hadn’t slept for days. Thinking back to the other night, when you’d first met, you walked the opposite way of each other. At that time of night, where would he need to go? He should’ve walked with you if he really lived in the same building. 

“You said, ‘a simple hello would suffice’ That’s what I did.” 

“Well- you!.. Okay, you’re right. I’ve just uh, haven’t gotten a break these past few hours.” You bring your hand to your face, hiding your tired expression and tear stained cheeks. To make things worse, you looked like a mess in front of your handsome neighbor. 

“Yeah, me neither…” and awkward silence makes its presence as soft sniffles and sobs escape you. 

“But uhm, your car is fine.” He says, taking a sip of his coffee and looks down toward your shoes. If you weren’t hiding behind your hand, you would’ve noticed the ways his eyes widened at the sight of the blood stains. 

“Are you fucking stupid.” You deadpan and look right into his eyes through your hand.

“Rude.” 

“My car is gone.” 

“No, it's not. I passed by it in the parking spaces. You didn’t, uh…y’know…. leave it there?” His voice pitched up only slightly near the end of his sentence. He began to hide discreetly behind his cup, acting as though he was about to take a sip at any moment. 

You freeze. Yesterday was horrid and a blur, but you would definitely remember if you parked it in the parking spaces. No one could, it had a flat tire. Fear seeps into you as you quickly run towards the parking spots.

Your car, it’s there. It’s accompanied with a new, front left tire. 

“How can- I didn’t do this! It had a flat tire, where did it go? WHO MOVED MY CAR?” You get louder as the reality makes itself clear. Someone had fixed up and moved your car. They didn’t even rob you, all of your belongings were present. 

“I dunno, maybe you slept walked.” 

“Y’know Jason, if I knew you any better I’d slap you” You voice sternly as both you bore gazes into the car. 

“Oh, okay” Jason says simply before taking another sip from his coffee. 

You shrug him off and unlock your car, finally reuniting with your clothes, appliances, and other possessions. 

You’re too preoccupied with your car to hear Jason softly speak behind you.

“You could always, uhm..try to get to know me better.” His voice was so quiet, like he didn’t want to be heard. He wasn’t….not completely.

“Hold on, Jason. I’m counting all of my thrifted glassware.” 

You sign happily and run a hand across your face. You were still weary due to the fact that someone had fixed your car, parked it, and left everything else untouched. For now, your problems were solved. All that’s left is to hike everything up and officially move in. You were smart enough to put everything neatly into boxes and bags. There were no strewn items, making it easy to move in all on your own. 

You reach for the first box marked ‘clothes #1’. Jason’s hand follows yours, his coffee cup tossed away. 

“No worries, Jason. I can do this myself” You say mid grunt from pulling the overfilled box from the car. 

Jason immediately responds: “I know you can. Let me help” 

You had forgotten how deep and lovely his voice was. With both of your hands on the same box you crane your neck to look up at him. He’s close, so close. You can smell the coffee on his face and you could trace his undereyes with your finger. He obviously doesn’t smell like a perfume ad, even if he looks straight out of one. The faint smell of sweat and gunpowder radiates off of him. You don’t know whether to be attracted or slightly disgusted. 

“Uhm, yeah…sure you can help. Only if you really want to. Here, uh..take the one with my shoes. It’s on the other side.” He gives a slight nod and heads to the other side of the car. You cringe at how you responded to him. You wait as he grabs the other box. 

He grunts quite loudly as he pulls the box from the car. He is obviously favoring his left side of his stomach, holding the box on that hip with one hand. 

“You alright? You don’t have to help me. It’s not much to bring up, anyway.” 

“No, no it’s fine. I’ve got it.” Jason looks around the car for smaller things he can carry up along with the box, confidence and nervousness seeping through his bones. 

“[name], I’ll take these bags with me. It’ll save us a few trips.” He says as he grabs about two back packs and three large, full tote bags. 

You’re staring at him. His muscles are showing through his black shirt, even if it’s a bit large on him. His hands nearly engulfed your tote bags. His left arm looked as though it was carrying a mere feather and not a box full of shoes. 

He startles you out of this trance once he starts to make his way towards your apartment without you. He suddenly stops in his tracks after about five steps. He freezes for a few seconds and turns around towards you. 

“You - you lead the way. To …your apartment. I don’t know where it is” He could slap himself right now, just as you’d mentioned. Of course Jason wouldn’t know where it is. Red Hood, however. . .

You aren’t stupid. You take a mental note of the awkward event and lead him towards your apartment. 

You two walk in awkward silence. The tension could be cut with a knife. 

“Rough night?” You finally speak out. 

“You could say that. You? Well, I mean I was with you for some of it.” 

You let out a soft chuckle at the memory. “It sure did get worse from there, that's for sure.” 

Jason’s breath hitches, but not enough for you to notice. You make it to the first flight of stairs, and you walk up together. 

“Oh yeah? What, uh, what happened?”

You let out a laugh this time. It’s on the verge of being a soft cry, but the situation was funny enough. You turn towards Jason and shake your head with a sad smile on your face. 

“You’re either going to laugh or not believe me. Or worse-” You stop to fully turn to him before walking away “- both” 

Jason's lips almost twitch into a smile before speaking: “It can’t be that bad. C’mon spit it out” as he nudges you playfully with one of his arms. 

You stop at the second flight of stairs and set the box down. The interaction with the red-masked man was funny, but still terrifying. You didn’t know who he was, why he was bleeding, and why he stumbled upon your apartment. 

“I- there….” You take a deep breath before starting again. 

“A man in a red mask fell onto my fire escape with a huge, and I’m talking huge, gash on his stomach and I had to be the one to fix it. I literally thought he was going to die- or kill me and then die from the blood loss.” You shake your head to stop your rambling. 

“He didn’t kill me though, so hooray for that.” you add before grabbing the box off the ground and head up the stairs. 

“Good. I don’t think he would’ve.” Jason walks slowly behind you with a far away look in his eyes. He lets out a small cough. 

“Is that where the uh, blood-” He motions towards your shoes with a slight tilt of his head. “-came from?” 

You look down towards your shoes. Huh, you didn’t even notice that. 

“Oh! Well, yes. It was one of the most intense nights of my life, having to stitch someone up. He led me through it, but I couldn’t help but feel like a doctor working the emergency unit. I’m telling you Jason, this man was bleeding. so. much.” 

Jason doesn’t respond. You continue. 

“-Like, what do you have to go through to get slashed like that and act so nonchalant about it?! He acted like this was an everyday thing for him. And get this, right after I stitched him up he jumped off the roof. I just..I don’t know who he was. I guess I’m still scared.” 

You both reach your front door and you walk inside. You set your box down in the middle of the living room but make no other movements from that. You stare at the ground, thoughts still swarming your mind. Instead of keeping them in you decide to voice them this time. 

“I don’t know how I can sleep knowing this man knows where I live. What if he led. . . whatever it was that did that to him to my home?” You bring your hand to your forehead. Shaking, you don’t realize that Jason is slowly walking around the apartment. He’s looking for traces of himself to get rid of. He walks towards you slowly and takes a deep breath. Could he tell you? Obviously not, he doesn’t know how you’ll react. He could only offer this as a piece of comfort. 

“You must’ve met uh..Red Hood. Yeah, good guy-” Jason coughs again. “He would protect you, not hurt you” 

You remember hearing of the many vigilantes in Gotham. But, along with these vigilantes are criminals. You’ve only heard of Red Hood before, not seen him. A wave of relief washes over you and it shows itself on your expression. 

“Oh my- yes! I’ve heard of him. That's- wow. That’s a relief. Isn’t he kind of like Batman?” 

Jason responds a little too quickly -“Tch, no.” - and a little too snappy. You give him a look. Maybe he doesn’t like the bat? 

Jason quickly composes himself and brings a hand to rub his neck. “Well - Yeah, well no. He’s . . . He’s his own person. He does rounds here often.” Jason doesn’t give you time to respond before swiftly walking out. 

“C’mon, we have more stuff to bring up.” 

_

You spent the next hour bringing up your belongings with Jason. The time seems to go by quickly as it’s filled with small-talk, jokes, and laughter. You like him, you really do. Being with him was so calm and easy. He understood you; your problems with family, friends and not being understood or taken seriously. You felt at home with him, which was odd. You’ve only known each other for 1 ½ days. 

You set the last box down in the kitchen and let out a happy sigh. 

“All finished! Now it’s time to make myself at home!” You do a little happy dance because this was one of the happiest moments you’ve had since moving here. You’re doing it. You’re proving them wrong. 

Jason laughs and his eyes shine bright. It’s like the tiredness and pain in his abdomen completely wash away for a moment. 

“Glad I could help out. I have things I need to take care of and get ready for uh- work.” He seems so clammy when he mentions work. 

“You work nights? That totally sucks.” You look towards him as you unpack the ‘kitchen appliances’ box. 

“Yeah. Sucks. Anyways, be. . you know, be safe and all that. Hopefully we can . . see each other later?” Jason looks behind him towards you as his hand is hovering over your door knob. His face is .. . uncertain, almost nervous. 

You tried to hide the absolute stream of happiness that flows within you. “Okay! That sounds great. Have a safe night, Jason!” you give him a wave as he leaves your apartment. 

This day couldn’t get any better.

_

You throw the last piece of cardboard to the side of the living room. You moved in! Sure, you need to go furniture shopping for a bed frame, couch and TV, but this was great. You didn’t even mind that these Gotham apartments didn’t meet the bare minimum when it came to furniture. 

You start work on Monday and it’s currently 8:34 pm on Saturday. 

‘Only a day and a half to settle down.’ you think to yourself and sigh, laying on the air mattress. 

A grumble escapes your stomach and you realize just how long it’s been since you’ve eaten something. No dinner last night, no breakfast this morning, and no lunch this afternoon. You sit up and make your way towards the bedroom. As you’re getting ready to head out, you look up the best Chinese spot in Gotham. Orange chicken is the only thing on your mind as of recently. 

Five minutes away. There's a Chinese take-out place and a bodega five minutes of walking distance from your apartment. You squeal with happiness. You could grab a dinner for tonight and snacks to hold you off until you go grocery shopping. This just might be too good to be true. 

The fact that you can walk there is amazing, you don’t feel safe getting into your car just yet. The person who fixed it is still a mystery. Though, you do have some ideas as to who the good samaritan may be. 

‘The only people who knew my tire was flat were Jason and my landlord. Terry (landlord) doesn’t give two shits about me, Jason does though . . ‘ you start mumbling to yourself as you make your way to get dinner. 

‘But, Jason works nights and we . . barely met that night. Who else did I meet that day?” 

You freeze. 

“Red Hood. I- I met him last night” You whisper to yourself. You remember what Jason had told you; Red Hood’s a good guy, he’d protect you. 

‘He’s a vigilante. Of course he could move my car without the key.’ You are confused just as you are relieved. He must’ve appreciated the stitches. Why else would he fix your car? 

Gotham’s night chill elicits goosebumps from your arms despite your winter coat. Before you step into the Chinese restaurant, you take a look around. The stars are barely visible, the light pollution affecting the night sky. It’s cold, but in a comforting, winter way. You wonder if Batman or Red Hood is out tonight. A warmth begins to bloom in your chest. It’s not the most wonderful sight, Gotham, but it has its own beauty. 

You finally walk into the restaurant and the warm steam blooms on your face. No need to rub your arms or huff into your hands. It’s empty and a little eerie, though. There’s no tables or chairs and the kitchen seems small even though the building is much bigger than that. It could be storage or some secretive crime operation that hides behind the guise of a Chinese Restaurant. 

In Gotham both are plausible.  

You order your food and wait patiently by the counter. You feel. . uneasy. You’re just getting food, not performing open heart surgery (well, you did nearly the same thing last night). The reviews were good and the pictures of the food looked so delicious, but there was a faint feeling of suspense that grew stronger the longer you stood. Thankfully, the food was finished before the suspense grew to an unbearingly large size. 

“Thank you, have a safe night.”  you wave to the man at the counter. You don’t even have time to grab the bag from where it sat before a loud crash sounded from the kitchen. The man turned around and cautiously reached for his back pocket. 

You hurriedly make your way to the door, not wanting to stay there any longer than you needed. 

Click!

It was fucking locked. 

“No, no please. Why is this locked?!” You look toward the man at the counter and see a small, but sharp knife in his hand as he cautiously looks to the kitchen. 

“Who’s- Who’s there? Johnny? Martin?” The man shouts at the silent kitchen. There’s the sound of a bowl rolling around, but soon stops. 

“You- who the fuck are you?!” The man turns to you with complete rage in his eyes. 

“I didn’t do anything, man! I’m just here to get dinner!” You put a cautious hand in front of you and you wished you had brought some sort of weapon, even if you were just getting dinner. 

The next thing you know, the man charges toward you with the knife in hand. You try your best to dodge him, but he was too agile. He manages to grab you by your shirt and spin you so your back is pressed against his chest. Your arms are held down by his left one and his right hand presses the knife to your neck. 

“You’re full of shit! Who do you work for?!” The pressure of the knife grows. This might be it. 

Tears form in your eyes as you look for a way to escape his grasp. Before you know it, the man pushes you to the ground, crushing the back of your knees with his. The pain is unbearable. The knife only grows closer. 

Whack!

Suddenly, the man falls next to you. He’s still breathing but there’s a dark splotch of red on his forehead. You peer beside him and see a wrench. You finally look up to the familiar, masked vigilante. He walks up to you and places a cautious hand on your forearm. His hand is large, it wraps around your entire forearm, much like Jason’s did. There are no words for you to say as he moves you to sit up. 

“Are you okay? You’re okay.” That last part was almost a whisper to reassure himself. Why would he need to?

A grunt comes from the man beside you and a gasp leaves your lips. You hurriedly grab onto Red Hood’s large arms. Shaking as you do so. 

“It’s okay. Give me a second.” He slowly puts your arm down to your lap and stands up. He walks towards the knife-wielding man and gives him a swift punch. He almost killed him right there. He knew he needed him for intel, but after he saw him handle you, he couldn’t help but hit him harder than he should’ve. 

Red Hood quickly pulls some sort of rope from his jacket and ties the man to the legs of the counter. 

Looking around, Red Hood spots your food right there. He grabs it and makes his way towards you. He bends down to your level. Not sparing another second he lifts you up, bridal style. A yelp escapes your lips, but there's no fear behind it. He’s the only person you feel safe around, right now. Well, him and Jason. 

“I’ll take you home.” 

“I don’t live far from here. I can . . .walk there myself.” You blurt out. You’re not sure why, but you had this fear of inconveniencing him. 

The vigilante immediately responds: “I know you can. Let me help.” 

That comforted you because it sounded exactly like Jason. Now that you think about it, there are a lot of things about this man that remind you of Jason. 

Red Hood works nights. So does Jason.

Red Hood has large hands that wrap completely around your forearm. So does Jason.

Red Hood speaks like Jason. 

You met Red Hood last night. 

You met Jason last night. 

Oh.

You tense as your breath leaves your lungs. The vigilante- or Jason - lets out a grunt before grappling up to your fire escape with you. He opens the window and brings you in. He moves around the room as if he’s been there before. He sets you down on a kitchen chair and places your food on the table. 

You can’t help but stare at him. You figured him out. This, this is Jason. You’re running on adrenaline and an empty stomach. But still, you’re able to take a chance. 

You look directly at him, where his eyes would be behind the mask. 

“Jason?” 

_

One more part after this! I’m thankful that so many of you enjoyed the first part. I hope you enjoy this one as well :) *nae naes*

Idk why this took me so long! I kind of hated everything that I wrote, but I sort of (?) like this finished product. 

Taglist: @lulasagna @justhere2readxd @nico707

[gothamlocal]

Old Fire Escapes and Bleeding Vigilantes

Jason Todd x Civilian Reader

Description: You understood that moving to Gotham wasn’t going to be easy. Not only is it riddled with crime, but you’re left to deal with the cruel winter without any family or friends. You start to wonder if you were fooled by the charm of a ‘new beginning’.

It’s not until a bleeding vigilante crashes, quite literally, on your fire escape that you realize you might be in for something …better.

Word count: 2,096

Content Warning: Reader is gender-neutral, some swearing, use of names sweetie/sweetheart, mentions of blood and stitches, you are going through it lmao.

Part 2 Here Part 3 Here

-

It’s one of the coldest nights in Gotham, 13 degrees fahrenheit. Your hands shake in response to the stinging cold even though the gloves you wore were advertised as providing ‘100%’ warmth. It made you laugh at how desperate you must’ve been for comfort that you’d believe in a ‘Gotham Appliance’ advertisement.

Now, It’d be understandable to be subjected to the cold for maybe five-minutes, but it’s been twenty. Your landlord has to be taking his sweet time in his heated office. It can’t take that long to retrieve a key for the new tenant, can it?

Just as your thoughts begin to run rampant, the landlord finally makes it out of his small, run down office. You can see the condensation on his front window, showcasing how warm it must be inside. He marches out with a lit cigarette in between his lips. He rolls his eyes just after they land on your shaking form.

“Oh- you’re still here. Shit…I’ll go grab the key.”

Your shoulders slump in half-hearted defeat: “Is he - is he serious?”

It takes another three minutes before he shows his face again.

“There you are.” He tosses the keys despite being less than three feet away.

“Room 207. Rents due in three weeks. And uh, get your vehicle into the designated parking spaces, you’re in a no-parking zone” He doesn’t leave time for questions before he begins walking to his own car. A worried expression quickly adorns your face.

“Hey! But, my left tire is flat! You said you were going to help me, remember?!”

You take your phone from your pocket and motion towards it -“On the phone?”

He starts the car and rolls his eyes once more- “Can’t help ya there, sweetie. I’m late for . . I dunno, something” His tires screech as he drives fast enough to avoid your burning glares.

‘This day can’t get any worse’ you think to yourself. This seems to be the cherry on-top to your horridly eventful first day in Gotham.

_

Before arriving at the apartment building, you were mugged at the gas station by a weak, old man. Fighting him off was easy enough, but you didn’t account for the knife in his pocket. You weren’t surprised to see multiple small holes in your front-left tire after paying for gas inside. The air escaped slow enough, so you made it to the destination at just the right time.

It'd barely been three-minutes before the idea of getting a parking ticket sounded much better than spending the rest of the night trying to get your car into the parking garage. Opting for getting help in the morning and settling in tonight, you quickly fetch some small essentials from the back of your car.

Suddenly

“You do know that parking tickets are crazy expensive in Gotham.”

Startled by the sudden, deep voice, you yelp and accidentally hit your head on the ceiling of your car. The pain didn’t have time to register before you swung your toiletry bag at the figure in front of you.

The man you swung at quickly stopped your violent advances by softly grabbing your forearm. Boy, was his hand large. It wrapped around the entire middle of your forearm. His hand was gloved but radiated such warmth that you felt it through your coat and his glove. Despite this, being crept up on and suddenly grabbed was enough to have your heart racing. Your brain replayed the previous mugging event over and over again.

“Hey!- So much for making a simple conversation.” His words died on his tongue as he continued with his sentence. Gently, he put your hand to your side and pushed you back slightly with his other arm. It took you a minute to catch your breath, slapping his arm away as soon as you did.

“Well- shit! Sorry for not wanting to chat-” You throw your toiletry kit on the back seat of your car “- after being scared half to death!”

There was a beat of silence between the two of you. You take this time to look him up and down. He’s a large man and quite good looking. Almost too good looking, you think. The most handsome men tend to be the most dangerous. The man gives you a quizzical look and puts his hands up in faux surrender.

“Hey I’m just-” He suddenly looks behind you to see the depressing, flat tire. “Oh, so you weren’t just parking there because you didn’t give a fuck”

You let out a sigh and look towards the same scene. “Well obviously, man. You think I want a parking ticket on my first day here?”

Shit. You just told a total stranger that you’re new to the area. Panic quickly settled onto your face.

“I mean..first day in this neighborhood, or…damn it.” You whisper that last part, hoping that he believed some part of that horrible lie.

The man put his hands down and a sound escaped his mouth that sounded like it wanted to be a chuckle.

“For your own peace of mind, I’ll tell you that I’ve ignored what you just said. It's dangerous out here… I get it.” There’s a slight pause as he looks into your worried eyes for half a second. He quickly tore his gaze away.

“I really didn’t mean to scare you…and I was just joking about the whole parking ticket thing. I'm sure you’ll be fine. Most days the police are too busy to care about parking on a marked sidewalk.”

He rubs his neck as he looks anywhere but you. A slight blush makes its way onto his face, but it must be due to the cold. . .and this embarrassing situation. There’s something warm about him; trustworthy, you think. You don’t let your guard completely down, but you indulge in the interaction.

“Is it really that bad here?” You question and he nods.

“Well, I hope that’s the case. I really don’t want to pay eighty-dollars for having a slashed tire.”

“Slashed?”

“Long story. Anyway, I should uh, you know get inside. Thanks for being kind . . but scary.”

You once again take in his features. He’s quite tall with dark brown hair, a little tussled. He has lovely hazel green eyes and a strong, masculine face. You must’ve been staring for some time and you tear your gaze away, grabbing what you needed to have a comfortable night in your new apartment. Closing your car door and locking it, you give the man a firm nod and tight-lined smile.

“It’s Jason, by the way. I, uh, live here too. Sorry, should’ve . . .started with that”

“Oh, well nice to meet you, Jason. I’m [name]” You both start to walk away before you turn to talk to him again.

“Hey, Jason. Please don’t scare me again. A simple ‘hello’ would suffice.”

His lips almost turn up, a smile threatening to show.

_

You walk to the side of your landlord’s office, opposite of the parking spaces, where the apartment building was. You’re almost thankful that you had an excuse not to haul your entire life up to your third-floor apartment tonight. But, a slashed tire is never something to be happy about. Although, you did meet a neighbor. .. a friend?

You brought a toiletry kit and a backpack filled to the brim with essentials; a small air mattress with an electric pump, a blanket, flashlight, your emotional support water-bottle, and first-aid. You walk up the two flights of stairs to your apartment. It’s . .. lovely, actually. Even if you’re in an exceptionally crummy part of town, this place feels like home. You walk towards your kitchen, placed on the left side of the room and set your water bottle on the dining table.

Great. You’re basically moved in. You set down your backpack and start unpacking the small amount of things you brought. It’s just one night, though, it’s not like you need everything from your car right now. Eyes drowning with sleepyness, setting up the air-matress was the next on the ‘to do’ list. At this point, you’re too tired to care if the other tenants can hear your loud mattress being aired up in the middle of your living room.

The air mattress is set up, but before falling victim to sleep, you need to look around the apartment. Maybe this deal was too good to be true.

The living room is small, but cozy. It sits on the right side of the entire room, with the kitchen on its left and a hall continuing on the opposite side, leading to the bathroom and your bedroom. Your favorite part, however, were the two big windows showcasing Gotham’s night-time beauty with all the lit up buildings. It’s paired with faint police sirens in the background and a couple gunshots. You loved the night. Although it’s almost never ‘calm’ in Gotham, there’s a certain comfort at this time. You slowly walk towards the two windows in awe. The city is beautiful, especially if you forget all that’s in it. You look slightly down and gasp in amazement.

A fire escape. An aesthetic, green, creaky fire escape. Just what you always wanted. No seriously, they’re great for drinking tea on cold nights and hot coffee in the morning where you can contemplate all of your world views. You may have been mugged and had your tire slashed, but this made up for it all.

You excitedly ran towards the window and opened it up to reveal the fire escape.

“How amazi- !”

THUMP

“Shit- that hurt more than I thought it wou-”

“WOAH- AH! WHAT THE-”

You are scared half to death, once again! Quickly jumping back, you look towards your fire escape to see a bulky man, much like your neighbor, with a full red-mask, brown jacket, all black clothing, and an . . . extremely prominent gash on his abdomen. It’s as if he fell from the sky (or rooftop) and crash landed by your apartment like some confused knight-in-shining-armor.

“Wrong apartment. Sorry, don’t mind me” He winces and grabs his bleeding stomach.

“WHO THE HELL ARE- YOU’RE. . . You’re. . bleeding?!”

“Yeah, how’d you guess”

You should have known that living in Gotham would come with its issues, like bleeding men on your fire escape. You tried your best to stay calm, there’s no solving anything if all you’re doing is panicking. Quickly, you remembered your first-aid kit and ran to grab it.

“Stay- just, just stay there! I’ve got first-aid.”

“I’m going to need a bit more than a band-aid, sweetheart.”

You ran back towards him revealing your incredibly large first-aid kit. Gotham was dangerous, you knew that and prepared for it by packing almost an entire hospital in your kit.

“Move aside, I’ll help you. . .” He flinches as you lift his form-fitting shirt.

You lift up his shirt to reveal a horrible diagonal slash on his lower abdomen.

“ . . .oh you need stitches. I don’t know- uh, you know what? I’ve got this. Move,” You aren’t sure where the sudden confidence came from, all you knew that there was a man bleeding profusely on your aesthetic fire-escape.

You didn’t think that he’d let you help him as he flinched at your every move. He must’ve realized how badly he was hurt before finally letting you take control.

He let out deep breaths. “Listen, I’ll . .guide you through it.”

He talked you through everything, from putting on gloves, cleaning the wound, and to knotting the suture. It was the most intense 20 minutes of your life. You were focused on his wound, yes, but you couldn’t help but spare a few glances at his sculpted abs. It’s not your fault, they were right in front of you.

You both are sitting there, crammed into your small fire escape, breathing heavily. You are completely worn out mentally, and him physically. It sends you to an almost complete shock once he stands up.

“Hey, hey! What in the world are you doing! Dude, you’re hurt!” You shout.

“Yeah, there’s still a few things I need to take care of. Thanks for . . uh this. Seriously. This is… thank you.” He doesn’t even give you time to respond before hopping off the railing. He disappears from your sight.

You are left there, in shock, worry, and fear. You clean up the scene with your head full of running thoughts. You couldn’t believe what you just went through. Sleep was the only thing on your mind as you threw the last bloodied gauze away.

That next morning you found your car in the apartment parking spaces with a perfectly new, front-left tire.

- -

My first fic aye aye *nae naes*. I really had fun with this lmao

Let me know what you think! Likes and reblogs are appreciated!