⋆｡𖦹°synopsis: Your death, vague to you and unknown to the rest, has been undone. Whether it's an after effect or a condition of your resurrection, you must piece together your murder by traversing wonderland. Will you be able to solve it before the clock runs out?
IMPORTANT UPDATE
WARNINGS: Descriptions of violence, violence towards women, body horror, gore
⏱︎ Teaser
⏱︎ Prologue
⤷ In progress
⏱︎ Chapter 1
⤷ Your dreams are becoming stranger and it seems to be bleeding into your reality
⏱︎ Chapter 2 [EDITED]
⤷ A mad tea party reveals all
⏱︎ Chapter 3
⤷ Your nightmares lead you to a man in red
⏱︎ Chapter 4
⤷ You attend another tea party, but this time, it's a full house
QUESTION!!! I have deltarune ch 1 & 2, what happens if I buy the $25 deltarune? Is my progress able to transfer? Or should I stop where I am rn and just buy it and start from the beginning?
I just watched the 2004 phantom of the opera and I absolutely loved it (it was my first time ever consuming this musical) but I just learned it's like the worst one 😭😭😭 is there something else I should watch?
✴︎ UPDATE: AITA for accidentally encouraging my brother's situationship to end things with him? (part 2) ✴︎
⁂ op (pt 1)
richard grayson x gn reader
(ft. jason todd)
slight crack fic
contains: swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption by reader
wc: ~1.7k
banner from @cafekitsune
tl;dr after red hood accidentally intervenes in nightwing's situationship which resulted in him getting dumped over voicemail, dick grayson threatens asks jason todd to clean up the mess he's made.
"this is ridiculous," jason todd grumbles into his comm line.
"yeah, and it's all your fault, so you owe me."
"if you had better communication skills, none of this would've happened."
"jason."
there's a sharp edge to dick grayson's voice, serving as both a warning and a subtle reminder that jason needs to right his wrongs.
"alright, alright," he groans, "now can you get off my ass? i'll handle it."
the line cuts and jason lets out a sigh. how was he supposed to know your situationship was his own brother? on a surface level, anyone would think you were getting played by some immature jackass. getting blown off four times in one week is crazy, but considering the fact that your situationship is secretly nightwing, it's a valid explanation—not an excuse—for his behavior.
presently, red hood is stationed atop a building on the corner of your street, his eyes meticulously scanning the sidewalks in search of you. a cool breeze whistles through the night as he waits. it's been a little over 24 hours since the chance encounter that ended in a passionate voicemail and dick's relationship status going from unofficially taken to sad and single. the game plan his brother devised is simple—find you, list all of dick's good qualities, and beg convince you to give him another chance. jason is unsure how or why a recommendation from red hood will magically fix everything, and thus, he has a sneaking suspicion that this is actually some public humiliation ritual, an elaborate punishment for accidentally meddling in dick's love life.
below him, the stream of pedestrians shuffling along the busy intersection begins to thin. there's a few people here and there, yet still no sign of you. do you enjoy lurking the gotham streets at night or something? jason shakes his head in disapproval. not only does he think that's extremely dangerous, but also, his patience is wearing thin. it's damn near 2am and your apartment sits dark and quiet.
finally, there's a glimmer of hope in the form of a bright yellow taxi. the car pulls up to the front of your building and stalls there for a few moments, no passengers coming in or out. jason steps closer to the edge of the rooftop, holding his breath, praying that you've finally decided to come home. then, the door haphazardly swings open.
"took you long enough," he mutters to himself.
he doesn't move just yet. he needs to make a few observations before he enters the fray. with the press of a button, he pages nightwing.
"what's your status, little wing?"
"got eyes on the target right now."
"what are you waiting for?" dick huffs. "go, already!"
"wait," jason pauses. "i think they're...drunk."
based on the way you miss the curb and almost eat shit the second you step out of the cab and subsequently grapple for the nearest tree trunk in front of you to regain your balance, you are, without question, drunk. the sway of your body even as you hold onto the tree trunk for dear life only further corroborates his theory.
"okay, and?"
"dude, they're drunk," jason deadpans, "they're not gonna listen to me."
"you are not aborting the mission."
"this is not a mission, dick."
"no, no, you're right. mistake is more like it—specifically your mistake—so get your ass down there and fix it," he hisses back.
~
taking two whole minutes to climb a flight of stairs comprised of somewhere between 8-10 steps is entirely unnecessary, but your world is spinning and the bass from the club is still reverberating in your ears, so taking your sweet time is entirely warranted right now. therefore, using that same logic, spending another whole minute to fish for your keys is also quite warranted right now.
what started out as a debrief with your friends about the end of your situationship over drinks and appetizers turned into you getting absolutely obliterated. one drink turned into two and then three. by the end of the night, your drink tally ended in a total of five drinks and three shots. though your friends insisted it's a celebration to you being single again, admittedly, you treated it as a night out to cope with cutting dick grayson out of your life. you hate how much you miss him. his wide smile, full-chested laughter, and those pretty blue eyes are burned into your memory. you're not sure if you'll ever truly forget him.
"hello."
you whip your head around, the brief reminiscence of your ex-situationship interrupted by the voice behind you.
"red hood here."
god, you really should've said no to that third shot because no way in hell red hood is standing before you again. your friends were already keeling over dying laughing that of all people, red hood was the one who finally got through to you, and you're still recovering from the absurdity of that yourself.
last night, red hood carried himself the way you'd expect a vigilante to—forthright and intimidating—but much to your surprise, he is far more earnest and less roguish than the headlines make him out to be. tonight, however, on the stoop of your building entrance, he seems uncertain of himself. he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his greeting accompanied by an awkward wave. it's almost as if he's here against his will, like there's some invisible gun being held to his head.
"i was hoping to speak to you 'bout my close personal friend, dick grayson."
"excuse me?" you sputter, offended at the mention of his name.
jason tenses for a moment, deeply discouraged by your response, yet he forces himself to persist.
"yes, dick grayson is my close personal friend," he treads carefully like you're a ticking time bomb that's seconds away from exploding. "i promise you, he's a great guy. he's funny and sweet and...handsome."
it physically pains jason to utter that final descriptor of dick. he is almost fully convinced that there's a hidden camera somewhere around here that dick, tim, cass, steph, duke, and damian are watching live from the batcave. hell, alfred is probably serving them popcorn right now and joining in on the watch party. why else would dick give him a script and threaten force him to memorize it word-for-word?
your face contorts into disgust as you stare at red hood in disbelief, struggling to process that not only does he personally know dick, but also, that he's trying so hard to pitch him to you. the disgust morphs into disappointment and now, you feel entirely betrayed. sure, you just recently became acquainted with red hood, but that interaction single-handedly restored your faith in humanity. now, he's reinforcing your pre-existing notion that people suck and men just happen to be the leading charge.
"after everything we've been through, you're switching up on me?" you ask incredulously.
jason's heart pounds in his chest. he takes a step back.
"what happened to 'i deserve better'? is it bros before hoes now?"
you don't mean to, but your voice grows louder, and you're full-on yelling at red hood.
"how can you do this to me? i trusted you!"
your words cut him deeper than he'd like to admit. the guilt that follows is immediate and crushing. he mentally deems this worthy of a spot in the list of top ten most remorse-inducing moments of his life. if the others really are watching this interaction live, they must be on the edge of their seats right now, alfred's popcorn forgotten.
jason squeezes his eyes shut. to hell with this fuckass script.
"look, last night, i didn't know all the details. if i knew the jackass you were cryin' over was dickhead, i wouldn't have told you all that. not 'cause we're close, but 'cause he's got a lot on his plate. there's personal stuff going on that he's not ready to share yet, but i swear to you, he really is a good guy."
you nod hesitantly. it's not the most reassuring reaction, but it's enough for jason to keep going.
"he's super smart, he's good with people, and even though we have our differences, he's the best brother i could ever ask for."
"he's your brother?"
fuck.
"...brother from another mother...! ...my brother in spirit...!"
his horrible attempt at lying adds onto the debilitating sense of guilt that jason presently feels towards you.
"okay...?"
"you're gonna have to be patient with him before he comes clean 'bout everything. and he needs to work on prioritizing you. but you won't regret it.
so please, give him another shot."
red hood stops talking, and everything goes quiet. rather than an awkward wingman, the person in front of you is the same passionate and genuine vigilante you met last night. this is the red hood you know. this is the guy who empowered you with his fiery support to cut off your situationship, and now, he's using the same support to implore you to get back with dick. it's a strange paradox, but you can tell he's being sincere.
and honestly? it's all the reason you need to take out your phone and unblock dick grayson on everything, including spotify.
with a small smile, you look back up at him.
"i can't believe that actually worked," he breathes, "i was pulling that outta my ass."
"i think speaking from the heart is a better way to put it," you chuckle.
"man, dickhead owes me big time for this."
"tell dickhead that he's got until tomorrow night to make it up to me. maybe some flowers, a heart-to-heart over a nice dinner, and dessert?"
he nods and you wonder if he's smiling under that bright red helmet, too.
"noted. i'll pass the message onto him."
~
"red hood, come in."
"i'm here."
"status report?"
"done. new objective for you, dickhead, don't fuck it up again."
a/n: thank you so much to everyone who's been interacting with pt 1, it means so much to me <3 i hope you also enjoy pt 2!
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