also… staking my claim as a harvey dent truther NOW 🫶 before people obsess seeing sebastian stan (and i welcome everyone very very very happily and gratefully because dear GOD please give me fics)
I don’t know if anyone will write this or if I will have to if nobody else will but a Bullseye x Catwoman! Reader is my mecca ship preferably like Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman because I can imagine that those two will match eachother’s freak as they would both be unhinged and Dex could finally get a gf who would be just unhinged and freaky like him. Dex would totally love her using that whip of hers in that latex 🐱
when the fic has 10k+ words, fluff, angst, smut right at the end, friends to lovers, character who’s down bad for reader, AND Y/N DOESNT ACT LIKE A CHILD
summary: your soulmate has ghosted you? time to become an international terrorist.
wc: 5.3k
---
Questions used: 10. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?
---
The first day you thought he was just napping.
By day three, you stop checking the window every time headlights pass your apartment building.
By day five, you start doing it again.
Jason should have been back by now.
Because logically, Jason being gone longer than expected is not unusual. Vigilante adjacent mercenary work probably does not operate on clean scheduling. There are explosions involved. International airspace violations.
Still.
A week feels strange.
The apartment feels wrong too.
His stupid boots are not by the door. His jacket is not slung over the couch. Nobody is stealing bites of cookie dough directly from the mixing bowl while claiming it’s “quality control.”
The reading nook sits empty. Fatson Todd has somehow migrated into Jason’s usual corner like he’s inheriting territory.
You stare at him suspiciously while curled beneath a blanket.
“This is bad, right?” you ask the plushie.
Fatson Todd offers no useful insights.
Which had not actually answered anything.
Next, you texted his family. Unfortunately, all they had to say is that Jason is fine. Dumb, but fine. Apparently he threatened them with bodily harm if they gave you any details.
After that, you waited. Because Jason had a key.
And the thing about Jason was that he appeared in places unexpectedly all the time now. Fire escapes. Balconies. Your couch at two in the morning claiming he “was in the area.”
So naturally, you kept expecting to hear the lock click.
You figured eventually he’d appear in your apartment like nothing is wrong. You even rehearsed your response. Or variations of responses depending on how mad you want to act.
Cool and casual:
oh wow look who remembered i exist
Maybe slightly emotional:
i was worried, idiot
Possibly dramatic:
i almost filed a missing persons report with batman
But the lock stayed still. The apartment stayed quiet.
By day six, desperation won and you decided to try the old faithful. You dragged your cooler down to Crime Alley with enough cookies to feed a small militia and left a note tucked beneath the lid.
for jason <3 pls stop acting mysterious and text me back
It had felt solid at the time.
Romantic, even.
Unfortunately, when you returned the next morning, five homeless men had somehow picked the cooler lock and were happily eating chocolate chunk on the curb.
One of them waved. “Those peanut-free?”
You blinked.
“…yes?”
“Oh good,” another said around a mouthful of cookie. “Frank’s allergic.”
So now this was your life. You got bullied by five homeless men and volunteered to bake them cookies weekly. You stared darkly at the tray of fresh snickerdoodles sliding into the oven.
That is when an idea struck you. If being nice and baking cookies doesn't wrok… you will have to get Jason’s attention some other way.
You have to become a criminal.
—
Post your latest cookie drop off (Anthony loved the snickerdoodle but asked if you can add caramel next time), you are contemplating your life of crime as you walk home.
You needed to do something dramatic enough to get the Red Hood’s attention. Preferably not dangerous-dangerous. Just a little concerning.
A little criminal.
You chew on your lip thoughtfully while waiting at a crosswalk.
What crimes even existed?
Grand larceny?
Absolutely not. You did not have the upper body strength for grand anything.
Auto theft?
You pause.
“…I don’t even have my full license yet,” you mutter to yourself.
Also Gotham cars probably exploded when hotwired wrong. That felt like important information.
Arson was obviously out.
Tax fraud sounded boring.
Blackmail required confidence.
You pass a tagged wall.
Graffiti, though…
Now there was something with flair.
Low stakes.
Artistic.
Very Gotham.
Batman probably saw graffiti constantly.
The Red Hood definitely did. And it is enough a crime where people intervene but criminals don't get arrested.
A tiny spark of determination settles in your chest.
Yes, this could work. You nod to yourself decisively and step off the curb—
A horn blares beside you.
You freeze mid-step.
The walk signal is still red.
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
You just jaywalked.
Your heart launches directly into your throat while a taxi speeds past, the driver glaring at you through the windshield.
For one horrifying second, genuine panic grips you.
This was it.
Your descent into criminality.
First jaywalking.
Then graffiti.
Then somehow you’d end up with a rogues gallery nickname like the baker or something and several unresolved issues with Batman.
You stand there for a moment, breathing hard.
Then slowly you push the panic down.
You needed to get used to this feeling now.
The adrenaline.
The danger.
The lawlessness.
This was your life now.
You were living a life of crime.
Baby steps.
—
CRIME ATTEMPT #1
—
The spray paint situation is your first obstacle.
“This is criminal discrimination,” you mutter under your breath while standing in the Michael’s craft aisle at eight thirty at night.
Apparently Michael’s Arts & Crafts did not cater to aspiring vigilante bait.
You pick up the glitter silver can with deep resentment.
“…Fine,” you whisper. “We adapt.”
Ten minutes later, you are speed-walking through Gotham with a tote bag full of craft-store spray paint feeling profoundly unqualified for organized crime.
The December cold bites instantly through your coat. Wind whips down the alleyways hard enough to sting your eyes, but you keep going, scarf pulled high over the lower half of your face like the world’s least threatening supervillain.
Honestly, you look less like a criminal and more like someone about to lose a fight with seasonal allergies.
Still.
Commitment mattered.
You finally find the wall near Crime Alley by complete accident.
Tall brick.
Mostly empty.
A battered NO TRESPASSING sign hanging crooked nearby.
Your pulse spikes immediately.
Perfect.
This was exactly the kind of place vigilantes probably monitored.
The Red Hood would absolutely investigate suspicious graffiti activity here.
You glance around nervously before ducking into the alley, boots crunching against thin patches of snow.
Time to become mysterious.
You pull the silver spray can from your tote bag with trembling fingers. The little metal ball inside rattles ominously. Your breath fogs through the scarf while you stare at the blank brick wall.
Then you realize something horrifying.
You never actually planned what to paint.
“Oh no,” you whisper.
Your brain immediately empties itself.
What did criminals even paint?
Threats?
Symbols?
Cryptic warnings?
You panic instantly.
The spray can hisses accidentally when your finger jerks.
Twenty minutes later, the alley is covered in glittering silver and blue snowflakes.
The glitter paint catches the alley light beautifully, sparkling softly against the dark brick while snow falls around you in lazy white drifts.
You step back slowly, breathing hard through the scarf.
“…Wait.”
It’s actually kind of cute.
Not intimidating.
Not remotely criminal.
But cute.
The problem is that now you’ve committed to the bit.
So you shove your hands into your coat pockets and linger awkwardly near the alley entrance waiting to be arrested.
Or confronted dramatically.
Or at minimum mildly questioned.
This was still Gotham.
Surely suspicious alley graffiti would trigger SOME kind of vigilante response.
You wait ten minutes.
Nothing.
Fifteen.
Still nothing.
A stray cat walks past and ignores you completely.
“Oh, come on,” you mutter.
By twenty minutes, your toes have gone numb.
The Red Hood does not appear from the shadows.
Batman does not descend dramatically from a gargoyle.
Nobody even yells at you.
Eventually you trudge home offended.
Honestly?
Rude.
You committed crimes for him.
The least he could do was acknowledge them.
—
The next morning, Gotham Instagram discovers the alley.
You learn this while eating cereal in your pajamas and scrolling half-asleep through your phone.
@gotham.city.aesthetic: ❄️ whoever made the snowflake alley downtown… i owe you my life actually
Attached is a professionally edited reel of your graffiti set to melancholy indie music.
You sit bolt upright.
“What.”
More notifications flood in.
People are taking photos there.
Someone proposed there apparently.
A local influencer called it: “a symbol of fragile beauty surviving gotham’s darkness 🥺”
There is now a location tag called:
#snowflakealley
You stare at your screen in horror.
This was not the intended outcome.
This was supposed to summon Jason Todd.
Not accidentally improve Gotham morale.
—-
CRIME ATTEMPT #2
—-
Mugging, you decide, is probably the fastest way to get the Red Hood’s attention.
Vigilantes loved muggings. That’s how Jason and you met after all.
Which means all you have to do is create one tiny robbery scenario where you steal from a sweet grandma and Jason will practically materialize from the shadows himself.
Perfect.
Unfortunately, Crime Alley at nine p.m. contains absolutely no muggable people.
This city was unbelievable.
Where were the old ladies with purses?
Where were the businessmen carrying suspiciously robbable briefcases?
You specifically picked nine p.m. because movies suggested that was prime mugging time.
Instead Gotham apparently believed in bedtime.
A taxi splashes through a puddle nearby.
You sigh dramatically into your scarf.
Maybe you needed to think bigger.
Big risks equaled big rewards.
That was probably what criminals said.
Your eyes narrow on the next pedestrian approaching down the sidewalk.
Not an old lady.vBut non-threatening.
Average height.
Beanie.
Holding grocery bags.
You could absolutely rob that man.
Probably.
Your pulse immediately skyrockets as you step into his path.
The poor guy startles hard enough to almost drop his groceries.
“HEY,” you blurt.
Excellent opening.
Very criminal.
The man blinks at you cautiously.
“…Hi?”
Okay.
Commit.
You square your shoulders and point at him dramatically.
“Hand over your money.”
Silence.
A car alarm chirps somewhere in the distance.
The man stares at you for a long moment. “Are you lost?” he says.
You panic slightly.
Stay focused.
You lower your voice another octave, which unfortunately just makes you sound congested.
“Give me money.”
The man’s expression shifts instantly from confused to deeply concerned.
“I mean…” He adjusts the grocery bags awkwardly. “I can buy you a bus ticket if you need help?”
You stare at him.
“No,” you say carefully. “This is a robbery.”
The man goes pale. “Oh my god.”
Finally.
Recognition.
Fear.
Respect.
“You’re being robbed?”
“What?”
His gaze darts around the alley frantically. “Did somebody take your wallet? Are they still here?”
“No! I’m robbing YOU.”
Then his entire expression softens in a way that immediately offends you.
He lowers his grocery bags carefully onto the pavement like he’s approaching a frightened animal.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he says cautiously. “Can I call someone for you?”
You stare at him.
“What.”
“A friend? Your parents? Somebody who can pick you up?”
“I’m committing a CRIME.”
“You seem overwhelmed.”
“I’m threatening you!”
Before you can recover, headlights suddenly sweep across the alley.
A police cruiser rolls slowly past the entrance.
The man’s eyes widen immediately. “Oh thank god.”
“No no no no—”
The cruiser stops.
A cop steps out, one hand already resting near his belt while he looks between the two of you.
The man points directly at you.
“This poor girl needs help.”
You actually recoil. “WHAT.”
The officer’s expression shifts instantly into concern.
“Miss?” he asks carefully. “Are you alright?”
“I’m robbing him.”
The cop blinks once.
The man gives him a deeply sympathetic look. “I think she’s having some kind of episode.”
“I AM ACTIVELY THREATENING YOU.”
“You’re shivering pretty badly,” the officer notes gently.
“That’s because crime is stressful!”
Ten minutes later, you are sitting in the back of the police cruiser wrapped in an emergency blanket while the officer gives you hotline numbers and tells you that “vigilante-adjacent emotional situations” are more common than people think.
—-
By late Christmas eve, you are officially out of ideas.
Crime has failed you.
The Gotham Police Department had gently encouraged therapy.
And Jason Todd was still ignoring every single attempt you made to reach him.
Which meant you were now curled sideways in his armchair in the reading nook at one in the morning feeling deeply, catastrophically pathetic.
Fatson Todd is tucked beneath one arm like emotional support artillery while snow taps softly against the apartment windows.
Your chest aches.
Maybe honesty really is the best policy.
No more crimes.
No more emotional terrorism.
No more failed muggings.
Just try talking to him.
You open Twitter for the first time in years because it’s probably the only place where he hasn’t blocked you yet. You smile when you see the handle. @boomeringue. It used to be the username you used for everything from twitter to club penguin.
You try to keep it brief. You don’t want to seem overbearing:
@redhood city square. christmas eve. 8pm.
You stare at the tweet for a long moment before hitting post.
Hopefully, by some miracle, he’ll see it and you can finally talk.
—
Wayne Manor is miserable on Christmas Eve.
The tree is lit.
The garlands are up.
There’s music playing softly somewhere down the hall.
And yet the entire manor somehow feels like somebody kicked a puppy directly into the holiday spirit.
Jason is sitting in the armchair nearest the fire looking like human seasonal depression in a leather jacket. Which means everyone else is suffering too.
Dick breaks first. “This sucks,” he announces.
Nobody disagrees.
Even Alfred pauses briefly while serving dessert.
“Master Richard,” he says diplomatically.
“No offence, Alfred,” Dick says immediately, “but if she was here we’d have chocolate mousse right now instead of fruitcake.”
“None taken, sir.”
Tim pokes at his slice with visible despair. “She would’ve decorated the cookies.”
“She would’ve made hot chocolate,” Steph mourns.
“She would have laughed at my joke about superman and mistletoe," Duke adds quietly.
Damian scowls down at his tea. “Todd has ruined morale.”
Jason doesn’t look up from the glass in his hand.
“Can all of you shut up.”
“No,” Dick says instantly. “This is weird. You’re weird.”
Jason’s jaw tightens.
For the last week he has been moody, snappy, and Cass once caught him sobbing to All too Well on his bike.
Which, in fairness, narrows his behavior down very little.
Steph finally snaps.
“Okay, I’m saying it,” she declares. “Go apologize to your girlfriend.”
Jason’s expression hardens instantly.
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Oh my god,” Tim mutters.
“And she’s not my soulmate,” Jason says flatly. “Drop it.”
Silence falls across the room.
Even Alfred stops moving for half a second.
Dick stares at him. “Jason.”
“I mean it.”
Something ugly twists briefly across Jason’s face before disappearing behind that familiar hard expression again.
“We got confused,” he says shortly. “That’s all.”
Nobody responds immediately because that explanation makes absolutely no sense and noody believes it.
And because Bruce, unfortunately, now looks like he wants to have a father-son conversation.
Before that catastrophe can occur—
Ping
Barbara’s laptop lights up on the coffee table.
Everyone turns automatically.
Barbara frowns down at the incoming alert. “That’s weird.”
“What?” Duke asks.
She opens the file.
Then immediately straightens.
“Oh, that’s bad timing.”
The room shifts instantly.
Jason sits forward slightly.
Bruce is already on his feet.
Barbara answers the incoming GCPD call on speaker. “Oracle.”
“We’ve got a flagged threat tied to tonight’s Christmas market,” a dispatcher says quickly. “Cybercrimes escalated it to major incidents.”
Barbara’s eyes skim rapidly across the report.
The dispatcher lowers his voice ominously.
“We think the suspect may be operating under the alias Eringue.”
Silence.
“Potential extremist,” the dispatcher continues confidently. “Possibly foreign.”
Bruce’s expression sharpens immediately. “What’s the threat level?”
“Potential bombing,” Barbara says grimly. “Christmas Eve market. High civilian density.”
That gets everyone moving instantly.
Finally,
Action.
Dick stands so fast he nearly knocks over the fruitcake.
Duke’s already reaching for comms.
Tim peers over Babs’ shoulder for the report.
Damian actually looks excited for the first time all evening.
“The mayor doesn’t want the festivities disrupted publicly,” she says. “So GCPD’s sending bomb squads in plainclothes while we establish perimeter positions.”
Bruce nods once. “Assignments.”
“Nightwing and Spoiler cover east exits. Robin with Red Robin on rooftop surveillance. Signal monitors crowd movement.” Barbara pulls up the city map. “Red Hood takes the central market.”
Across the city, entirely unaware you had accidentally triggered Gotham’s anti-terror response, you were standing in a flower shop holding two bouquets with increasing distress.
“Do these look too breakup-y?” you asked nervously.
The cashier blinked. “The… roses?”
“No, roses are romantic.” You frowned down at the white lilies in your other hand. “The lilies feel profound.”
Outside, Gotham police quietly established a bomb perimeter around the Christmas market.
You picked carnations.
—
The Gotham Christmas market is operating under active anti-terror surveillance.
Fortunately, none of the civilians know that.
Families drift between vendor stalls beneath glowing string lights while Christmas music crackles softly through overhead speakers. Kids clutch cups of hot chocolate with mittened hands. Someone nearby is aggressively roasting chestnuts.
Meanwhile every available vigilante in Gotham is perched somewhere overhead waiting for a potential bombing.
“East side clear,” Nightwing says through comms.
“Couple arguing near the skating rink,” Spoiler adds. “The boyfriend definitely cheated but probably not terrorism related.”
Robin crouches at the edge of a rooftop overlooking the market, cape snapping sharply in the winter wind.
“A man near the fountain has been pacing for seven minutes,” Damian reports.
Red Robin glances down at his scanner. “He’s waiting for his wife. Elevated heart rate but no weapon signatures.”
“Disappointing,” Damian mutters.
Below them, plainclothes bomb squad officers weave carefully through the crowd pretending to browse holiday stalls.
Oracle’s voice cuts cleanly through the comm network.
“Reminder: the mayor's office does not want panic. Keep movement controlled unless we confirm a threat.”
Jason stands on a roof closest to the square with his helmet on, arms crossed tightly over his chest while snow drifts slowly onto his jacket.
“West perimeter,” Signal says suddenly. “Guy in the green parka keeps touching his pockets.”
Jason’s attention snaps over immediately.
The man pulls out:
“A candy cane,” Nightwing sighs.
“Oh come ON,” Steph groans.
A child drops hot chocolate nearby. Jason flinches instinctively at the sound hitting pavement.
Oracle’s voice crackles suddenly through the comms.
“Hold.”
Every channel goes quiet instantly.
Barbara’s typing echoes faintly in the background before she says:
“Red Hood.”
Jason straightens automatically. “What.”
“Your soulmate just entered through the west gate. I see it on camera three.”
Silence detonates across the network.
Every Bat immediately turns toward the west entrance.
Jason’s stomach drops hard enough to hurt.
“No,” he says instantly.
And then he sees you.
Winter coat.
Scarf.
Flowers tucked carefully against your chest.
Flowers?
Nightwing squints through binoculars from the rooftop.
“…Is she on a date?”
Jason’s grip tightens so hard around his gun holster it creaks.
Spoiler gasps dramatically. “OH MY GOD SHE’S ON A DATE.”
“She brought flowers,” Duke says weakly.
“Perhaps she finally located a man with emotional intelligence,” Damian offers.
Jason genuinely considers violence.
Not because you’re on a date.
You should be on a date.
You should move on from this entire disaster and find someone normal and alive and uncomplicated who doesn’t vanish for two weeks because he’s too damaged to process affection correctly.
Still. It's been two weeks.. Did you move on that quick?
The sight of those flowers in your hands makes something ugly twist low in his chest.
Dick’s voice softens slightly. “Jay…”
“She deserves better,” Jason says flatly before anyone can say it first.
The words land heavily across the comms.
For one brief second, nobody jokes. Then Oracle cuts through the silence sharply.
“Can you people be serious for ONE second?”
Barbara sounds genuinely appalled.
“There is an active potential bomb threat at this location,” she snaps. “And his soulmate is standing in the middle of it.”
Jason freezes.
Right.
The threat.
Your flowers suddenly stop looking romantic and start looking terrifyingly vulnerable.
Oracle’s voice hardens instantly into mission mode.
“Red Hood, get her out of there now.”
Jason moves before anyone can say another word.
“One minute,” Batman says sharply through comms.
Jason ignores him completely.
The rooftop door slams hard enough behind him to rattle the stairwell as he tears downward three steps at a time. Snow and cold air still cling to his armor while Oracle continues talking in his ear about evacuation routes and threat containment.
He barely hears her.
All he can think about is you standing in the middle of a potential bombing with flowers in your hands.
Idiot.
His idiot.
Jason yanks the helmet off halfway down the stairs and shoves it into an abandoned maintenance cabinet without slowing. Next go the guns. Holstered beneath his jacket where civilians won’t see them.
By the time he hits street level, he barely looks like Red Hood at all.
Just Jason.
Just a man sprinting through Gotham Christmas crowds with panic clawing up his throat.
He spots you near the center fountain immediately.
You’re standing on your toes slightly, scanning the market crowd with your bouquet tucked against your chest. When he shouts your name. Your head snaps toward him instantly.
Your entire face lights up.
Relief crashes across your expression so openly and immediately it almost stops him in his tracks.
“Jason!”
You hurry toward him through the crowd, smiling so brightly it physically hurts to look at after two weeks of silence.
Jason reaches you and immediately grabs your hand.
“We need to go,” he says.
“What?”
“There’s a threat. C’mon.”
He starts pulling you quickly through the market crowd toward the nearest exit, grip tight around your wrist while his eyes scan rooftops and civilians automatically.
Behind him, Oracle is feeding him updates through comms.
“No suspicious movement near the north barricade—”
“Bomb squad entering west side—”
“Red Hood, keep moving.”
You stumble slightly trying to keep up.
“Jason, wait”
“No time.”
“What do you MEAN no time??”
“There’s a potential attack here.”
Your eyes widen instantly.
“Oh my god.”
“Exactly.”
Jason keeps moving, pulse pounding violently now.
If something goes off before he gets you clear—
“Jason,” you say again, tugging against his hand this time. “Wait, hold on.”
“We are literally not holding on.”
“No, listen to me first!”
Jason finally slows just enough to look back at you.
You stare up at him, confused now.
“…Did you get my message?”
Jason pauses.
The crowd noise dulls strangely around him.
“…What message?”
“The tweet,” you repeat slowly. “I asked you to meet me here at 8”
Jason stares.
Snow drifts lazily between the market lights while Gotham continues bustling around you completely oblivious to the active anti-terror operation currently unfolding in the background.
“You…” Jason says faintly. “You sent that?”
“Yes?” Your eyebrows knit together. “Why else would you be here?”
Oh my god.
Behind Jason, somewhere across the rooftops, half the Batfamily is currently preparing for a bombing because of a twitter account you made when you were 12.
You keep talking before he can process that information.
You shift awkwardly beneath his silence.
“…Okay, well now I feel stupid,” you mutter. “But you blocked my number, which was honestly insane behavior by the way, and nobody would tell me where you lived, and I even tried the cookie cooler thing again but homeless people stole them—”
Jason actually stops breathing for a second.
“Who?.”
“That’s not important.” You wave it off immediately. “The point is I had to escalate.” You sound genuinely defensive about this.
Jason’s eyes sting suddenly. There is no threat. For a moment when he saw you standing there, he was terrified. All his neurons fired with a single message of get her out.
He pulls you into him so suddenly you gasp.
The bouquet crushes awkwardly between your coats while his arms lock around you hard enough to almost lift you off the ground. Jason buries his face against your hair immediately like he’s trying to convince himself you’re real.
His shoulders shake once.
“Oh,” you say softly.
His breath catches sharply against your temple.
“I missed you.” You keep talking. “I almost became a criminal.”
“Almost?”
“I jaywalked.”
“…Oh my god.”
“And then I did graffiti but it accidentally became an Instagram spot instead of a threat to society.”
You keep ranting on but Jason is barely hanging onto your words because a realization washes over him like warm water. You came here for him.
Not because fate told you to.
Not because a timer forced you to.
But because he disappeared and you refused to let him go quietly.
Your voice keeps tumbling out in nervous little bursts.
“And then the mugging thing didn’t work either—”
“The WHAT.”
“Again, not important.”
Jason’s chest cracks open.
Because suddenly he sees it.
Not a mistake.
Not confusion.
Not some dead soulmate’s empty place he accidentally crawled into.
You.
Choosing him over and over again anyway.
All his life Jason had wanted one impossible thing: Someone who would fight for him back.
Willis didn’t.
Catherine couldn’t.
Bruce loved him, yes, but even that love always came tangled in grief and rules and distance.
But you committed crimes for him.
Badly.
Terribly.
Emotionally.
But still. His shoulders shake once before he can stop them.
He is such an idiot. He was so scared that he wasn't your soulmate that he failed to consider that you are exactly what he needed. Someone who’ll fight for him. Of course the universe gave him you.
You’re still talking softly against his chest.
“…and honestly the graffiti turned out kind of nice actually—”
Jason laughs once.
You pull back just enough to look at him properly and see that his eyes are wet.
Your entire expression crumples instantly.
“Oh my god,” you whisper. “Jason.”
He looks wrecked. Like he’s been holding himself together by force for weeks and finally ran out of strength.
“I’m sorry,” he says roughly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
And that’s when you realize.
He thought you were really angry.
“Oh no no no,” you say immediately, grabbing his jacket. “Wait, Jason, it’s okay. I’m not really mad, you’re here now!”
That undoes him completely.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, like the words aren’t enough but he has nothing else to offer. “God, I’m so sorry.”
Then quieter.
Smaller somehow.
“I thought…” His jaw tightens painfully. “I thought I was ruining your life.”
Your face falls instantly.
“What are you talking about?”
“The bracelet broke,” he blurts suddenly. “And your timer stopped before we met and I just—I thought maybe your real soulmate died and we got it wrong somehow and you deserved someone better than—”
You cover his mouth with your hand. “Do not finish that sentence, Jason. That is the dumbest thing I have ever hear”
He laughs into your palm before gently removing it. “I love you so much.”
Your breath catches sharply enough that Jason’s expression immediately shifts into panic like maybe he said too much..
So you kiss him.
Immediately.
One hand grab his face at once as you pull him down into you, flowers crushed hopelessly between your coats while Jason makes this startled sound against your mouth before kissing you back like he’s starving for it.
Jason’s hands slide into your hair while your fingers curl tight into the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer every single time he tries to breathe. The cold air disappears beneath the warmth of him entirely. Snow melts against your cheeks. Christmas music hums faintly somewhere behind you but it feels very far away now.
All you can process is Jason.
Jason kissing you back like he means it.
Like he’s relieved.
Like he’s still a little afraid this might disappear if he stops.
Around the square, Gotham’s vigilantes are collectively witnessing far more intimacy than anybody signed up for tonight.
Then Jason’s comm crackles violently in his ear.
“HELLO?” Oracle snaps. “Potential bomb threat? Massive public gathering? Ringing any bells??”
Jason breaks away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, both of you breathing hard.
His eyes are still half-lidded when he presses a hand to the comm.
“There’s no threat,” he says hoarsely.
“…What.”
Jason glances down at you.
At your flushed cheeks.
Your crushed flowers.
The fact that you are very obviously not an international terrorist.
His mouth twitches helplessly.
“Go home,” he tells Barbara simply.
He kisses you again.
The bouquet finally slips from your hands somewhere between kisses.
Flowers scatter across the snow near your boots.
You pull back suddenly.
“Oh!”
Jason looks alarmed for half a second like maybe something exploded after all until you crouch quickly to grab the roses.
“No wait,” you mumble, laughing breathlessly now. “I forgot.”
Jason’s still staring at you like he hasn’t fully recovered from the fact that you kissed him back.
You straighten again and hold the bouquet out toward him properly this time, cheeks pink from cold and kissing and emotional terrorism.
“I got you these.”
Jason blinks.
The market noise seems to disappear completely around him.
“…You got me flowers.”
You frown slightly. “Well, yeah.”
Like that’s obvious. Like people bring Jason Todd flowers every day.
“It’s a date,” you explain softly. “I was trying to be romantic before you started your mysterious self-destructive disappearing act.”
His throat works visibly.
“Oh my god,” you say immediately. “No wait, are you crying AGAIN?”
Jason laughs once through it, embarrassed and wrecked all at once while taking the bouquet from your hands with absurd care like it might break.
“Thank you,” he mutters hoarsely.
You smile a little helplessly at that, shifting closer automatically beneath the market lights while snow drifts softly around you both.
Around you, the Christmas market buzzes warmly with music and laughter and the smell of cinnamon.
A perfect date setting, honestly.
You open your mouth.
“So,” you say carefully, “do you maybe wanna—”
“Can we go home?”
The words leave Jason immediately.
Jason looks suddenly overwhelmed by the entire concept of being perceived.
“I just…” He exhales hard through a laugh, eyes still suspiciously wet. “I think if we stay here much longer I might actually lose my mind.”
Your chest aches so violently it feels unfair.
“Okay,” you say softly.
Jason reaches for your hand automatically after that, intertwining your fingers like it’s instinct now. The flowers remain tucked carefully against his chest while the two of you begin walking slowly out of the market together.
You bump your shoulder lightly against his while weaving through the crowd.
“I still cannot believe you ghosted me over a bracelet,” you mumble.
Jason looks offended immediately.
“It was broken.”
“I have, like, twenty bracelets.”
“It symbolized you.”
“It was from a retreat gift shop.”
Jason tightens his grip on your hand slightly. “It mattered to me.”
Your expression softens instantly.
Then you remember something and squint at him again.
“Well I can’t believe you thought I’d stop talking to you forever.”
“You accidentally became a terrorist to contact me.”
“I became emotionally resourceful.”
“You triggered bomb squad deployment.”
“You blocked my number.”
“That does not justify federal crimes.”
“I also jaywalked, did graffiti, and tried mugging.”
He shook his head at that and slung an arm around you, pulling you closer to kiss your temple.
“I’ll let you know the next time I have a self destructive spiral”
“That’s all I ever wanted” You say, “Now come on, Fatson missed his papa”
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a/n: so you can probs tell how long this sat in the drafts from the christmas eve setting. also add me on club peguin @boomeringue
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taglist: THE TAGLIST IS NOW CLOSED (cause i am bad at it and its not working). to stay updated with the story follow: #goblin-writes
New-ish Benoni art, I keep forgetting to post here😭I also forgot her rosary so just imagine the firewood is tied together with one until I can get around to finishing it
So you’re a Seb fan excited about Harvey! But where to begin? AKA The Super Fan’s easy guide to Harvey Dent
Part 1: Comics
Part 1 of 3.
So Harvey has been around since 1942, with Bucky since 1941. With a history this long, I know it’s extremely intimidating to try to figure out where to start. Here’s my guide to a few things from every media category.
But most importantly, please be respectful of those with D.I.D. (Dissociative Identity Disorder). I don’t think anyone expects a fanfic writer to do a lot of research on a disorder, but please be aware of harmful stereotypes. D.I.D. is a disability. Harvey is a disabled man, both physically and mentally. If you all can be respectful to Bucky, you can be respectful to Harvey.
Finally, Harvey Dent is not Bucky. So many people are already making that mistake. BruHarvey is not Stucky. Also, Harvey is his own character with his own complexities, desires, and challenges. He doesn’t have to be a passive figure for Bruce. However, I have included some notes on what BruHarvey headcanon potential. BruHarvey is NOT canon in any media (yet?). If BruHarvey potential is what you really want, then go by the Video Games.
TLDR: Outside of Batman: The Animated Series and the comics, I recommend the video games (Telltale Batman and Batman Arkham) for the best depiction of Harvey. If you can’t play it, just watch the cut scenes!
Other than that, I hope this guide is helpful! Let me know if you have any questions! Please think about "liking" and reblogging. I worked very hard on this.
First, a short clip from Batman: Arkham City will give you an idea of Harvey’s personality and story quickly. The acting is excellent. Troy Baker kills it as Harvey every time.
Here, Harvey has been captured by psychiatrist Dr. Hugo Strange, who decides to interview Harvey.
Comics:
Batman Annual 14 : Eye of the Beholder: The quintessential Harvey Dent story that basically every Harvey Dent story has taken some influence from for decades.
The Long Halloween and Dark Victory: The most famous of Harvey’s stories and some of the most popular Batman stories. There has been a recent update to The Long Halloween. I’ll call it The Long Halloween 1.5. It’s a great story with a controversial ending. It’s best I don’t give any hints to the plot. However, this is one of the first comics that depict Harvey, Gordon and Batman working together. It also goes into Harvey’s home life, his career, and his investigations.
I would say that Reeves is likely using these two books for the next movies. The Long Halloween features Gilda heavily, but Dark Victory doesn’t.
Batman Year One: Another version that shows how Batman befriends Harvey and Gordon and how they work together. Yes, it focuses on Batman, but it’s a really good comic! The photo below is infamous in the fandom and influenced a lot of fanfic writers.
No Man’s Land: It has a messed-up Harvey Dent romance arc. The book version is better, but Harvey looks good here in the comics. Essentially, Gotham City suffers a major earthquake, leaving it isolated from much of the rest of the world. The United States government essentially abandons it, making it a free-for-all. The story is about survival. Very good story, too. Harvey is also in it as a gang leader.
Harleen Quinzel: A great Harley Quinn book, but the book's portrayal of Harvey is great. The book portrays him as far colder and harder on crime than other depictions of Harvey, and that's saying something. The art is also gorgeous.
Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on a Serious Earth: I personally do not like this book, but it is one of the most famous Batman comics. The Arkham video games are very, very loosely based on the novel. It’s very disturbing and physically hard to read because of the font. The video game is better. Apply broad trigger warnings here. Harvey plays a small, but significant role here. The comic also goes into some of his therapy, but not everyone accepts some of the ridiculous ideas.
The Harvey Dent standalone series: I haven’t been lucky enough to read it yet, so I can’t give you all much information about it except that it’s sadly been cancelled already. Harvey seems somewhat reformed here? I heard it’s good, though!
Part 2 will be him in movies and shows (Animated only).
Final part will be video games and audio stories!
Of course, this is only a tiny sample of all the comics Harvey has been in, these are just a few to start with.
So you’re a Seb fan excited about Harvey! But where to begin? AKA The Super Fan’s easy guide to Harvey Dent
Part 2: Shows and Movies
Part 2 of 3. So Harvey has been around since 1942, with Bucky since 1941. With a history this long, I know it’s extremely intimidating to try to figure out where to start. Here’s my guide to a few things from every media category.
But most importantly, please be respectful of those with D.I.D. (Dissociative Identity Disorder). I don’t think anyone expects a fanfic writer to do a lot of research on a disorder, but please be aware of harmful stereotypes. D.I.D. is a disability. Harvey is a disabled man, both physically and mentally. If you all can be respectful to Bucky, you can be respectful to Harvey. Finally, Harvey Dent is not Bucky. So many people are already making that mistake.
TLDR: Outside of Batman: The Animated Series and the comics, I recommend the video games (Telltale Batman and Batman Arkham) for the best depiction of Harvey. If you can’t play it, just watch the cut scenes!
Other than that, I hope this guide is helpful! Let me know if you have any questions! Please think about "liking" and reblogging. I worked very hard on this.
First, a short clip from Batman: Arkham City will give you an idea of Harvey’s personality and story quickly. The acting is excellent. Troy Baker kills it as Harvey every time.
Here, Harvey has been captured by psychiatrist Dr. Hugo Strange, who decides to interview Harvey.
Shows and Movies:
Not listed the live action Harveys - Batman Forever, Batman the Dark Knight, and Gotham.
Batman: The Animated Series: This the quintessential Two-Face viewing. If you have to watch anything, watch this. Yes, it’s a cartoon, but it has won numerous awards. It’s truly beautiful, and this version influences most versions of Two-Face. Richard Moll’s voice is legendary, and it inspired many subsequent actors. Plus, for those who are fans of Harley, this is where she was first introduced. Kevin Conroy and Mark Hamill are the main actors here. Kevin Conroy is the most beloved voice for Batman and has been for decades. He sadly passed away a year ago.
The Long Halloween, Part 1 and Part 2:Great adaptation of the comic! However, there are some changes from the comic, especially with Gilda. I won’t spoil it, but it doesn’t exactly paint Gilda in a good light. Josh Duhamel is a great Harvey.
Screenshot of Harvey from Batman Year One’s animated adaptation. It’s pretty short, and it’s definitely worth a shot. Harvey isn’t in it a huge deal, but he’s there. You’ll understand Batman better even if you just watch this and skip the comic.
This is a bit of silliness. It’s the original cast of 1966's Batman, starring Adam West and Burt Ward. Julie Newmar returns as Catwoman, too! William Shatner plays Harvey. It’s light-hearted fun and worth a watch.
Final Part is Video Games, the best part in my opinion!
Please be aware that this is only a handful of media.
So you’re a Seb fan excited about Harvey! But where to begin? AKA The Super Fan’s easy guide to Harvey Dent
Part 3: Video Games Some of the most accurate!
Part 3 of 3. So Harvey has been around since 1942, with Bucky since 1941. With a history this long, I know it’s extremely intimidating to try to figure out where to start. Here’s my guide to a few things from every media category.
But most importantly, please be respectful of those with D.I.D. (Dissociative Identity Disorder). I don’t think anyone expects a fanfic writer to do a lot of research on a disorder, but please be aware of harmful stereotypes. D.I.D. is a disability. Harvey is a disabled man, both physically and mentally. If you all can be respectful to Bucky, you can be respectful to Harvey.
Finally, Harvey Dent is not Bucky. So many people are already making that mistake. BruHarvey is not Stucky. Also, Harvey is his own character with his own complexities, desires, and challenges. He doesn’t have to be a passive figure for Bruce. However, I have included some notes on what BruHarvey headcanon potential. BruHarvey is NOT canon in any media.
TLDR: Outside of Batman: The Animated Series and the comics, I recommend the video games for the best depiction of Harvey. If you can’t play it, just watch the cut scenes!
First, a short clip from Batman: Arkham City will give you an idea of Harvey’s personality and story quickly. The acting is excellent. Troy Baker kills it as Harvey every time.
Here, Harvey has been captured by psychiatrist Dr. Hugo Strange, who decides to interview Harvey.
Video Games: my favorite! Outside of Batman: The Animated Series, these are some of the best depictions of Harvey. (And BruHarvey.)
Telltale Batman: It’s a lot of fun and has plenty of twists. Their Harvey is MASSIVE to the point where it’s become a meme. He’s very sweet. There’s a very light bit of corruption, Harvey, but it’s done in a way that makes sense. He’s overall a really good pal to Bruce, and for BruHarvey fans, there are definitely a few scenes with some tension. There are some Selina Kyle (Catwoman)/Bruce/Harvey fics out there because of this. Sometimes, your choices don’t matter as much as you’d like in the game, which is frustrating, but the choices you do make are very interesting.
Arkham Asylum: The game that started it all. It’s a very short game available on multiple platforms. I highly recommend playing it because the rest might be confusing without it. However, it is possible to skip it, but the atmosphere and the story are top-notch. Very gothic and features many of the cast from Batman: The Animated Series. You may as well play it. Harvey is only two or three easter eggs here, but he’s mentioned in the end.
Batman Origins:This is the first Batman game, if we're going by the timeline, but it's made by a different company than Rocksteady, which produced the other games. A lot of people skip it, but I highly recommend playing the game, especially if you play Batman: Arkham Shadows right after. You don't have to, but it makes the game richer. The soundtrack is awesome, too. Harvey is only in it as an Easter Egg or two.
Batman Arkham City: He doesn’t play a large role, but he’s there, especially if you play the Catwoman DLC. You have to get a lot of Harvey’s lore through background information, but pay attention to his gang’s activities. Not as much BruHarvey here. HOWEVER, the audio tapes are so good here, I posted them above.
Batman Arkham Knight: Harvey is criminally underused here. He is there for a string of robbery missions and a DLC boss. What’s frustrating is that Harvey is so much more intelligent than just a thug robbing banks. A lot of fans were disappointed by how little Harvey was featured here, but what IS there in terms of dialogue is great. Lots of BruHarvey packed into a small bit.
Batman: Arkham Shadow: This is the newest Arkham game. Harvey is a main character, and the BruHarvey is off the charts. Yes, it’s VR, but it’s a very high-quality story, and the voice acting is amazing as always. It’s a prequel to Batman: Arkham Asylum. I don’t love Harvey’s design here, but the voice and personality are perfect, so that’s what really matters.
Bonus:
Audio series: Highly recommended and easy to listen to!
Rogues! By Codot: Started on tumblr as an Ask the Riddler ask blog - which sounds like Eddie from Batman: The Animated Series and the Arkham games, Codot then slowly branched out to Jonathan Crane, which is fantastic, to a huge cast of other characters. It's insane that one person is so incredibly talented to be able to voice almost all of the male rogues and a lot of the male Batfam. It's so amazingly well written. I literally can't believe it's free. Their tumblr has a lot of meme clips as well as audio that deepens the lore. I HIGHLY recommend becoming a Patron. It's one dollar a month!
But here are two places to listen to it: Rss. and Spotify.
Batman: The Audio Adventures:
Created by HBO Max. I haven't listened to the audio adventures, but they're incredibly popular. It has a stacked cast with Roasio Dawson, Chris Parnell, Kenan Thompson, Seth Meyers, and more.
People really like how Harvey is portrayed, and he's really fleshed out here. I've heard there are some hints of BruHarvey. It's on YouTube, Spotify, and Apple podcasts.
And that's it! I know this was a long list, but I wanted to go through most of the main categories. As I said before, let me know if you need anything, and I'm happy to help.
Summary: Disillusioned by the galas you’re forced to attend, you meet an Imperial officer and, surprisingly, make a friend. But when your relationship threatens to develop into something more, he pulls back, leaving you distraught.
Word count: 4.7k (1.6k per chapter)
Warnings: 18+, angst, yearning?, romance, heavy make-out session, sexual assault (mentioned), heartbreak, dubcon, ooc
Notes: Finally posting this one, it was one of the first fics I started writing last year! If the writing seems a little unfamiliar, it’s because I wrote most of it long ago, before finding my style; I would still appreciate you letting me know if you liked it!
Six months later, you were attending a huge Imperial Gala, partially for networking, mostly for booze, which you were using as a coping mechanism, a tool of detachment. You stopped trying to call Thrawn two weeks after he left, and you stopped sending him messages some four months later. You figured out pretty quickly he wasn’t reading them, so you basically used it as a pretty toxic way of working through your feelings – you weren’t proud of it, but figured that there was not much harm done anyway. Last week, you finally woke up without the need to check the battle reports about Chimaera’s movement; instead, you decided to finish all your projects before the deadlines, so you could have one week all for yourself, to drink, to party, to take the drops, anything to mask the pain Thrawn left in his wake.
In the company of a Junior Navy officer, your eyes were darting all over the crowded room, occasionally laughing at whatever he was saying. He was pretty-ish, but you’ve already forgotten his name; you were on your fifth glass after all, and have been barely eating, so it didn’t take long for the alcohol to hit you. The officer kept darting down your decolletage, and you were getting quite tired of it.
You were looking for an excuse, any excuse, when you felt like you spotted something, someone in the crowd, that familiar blueish hue of the cold, cold skin. You stiffened up, momentarily sobering up. He wouldn’t. But he would, and he did, because you spotted him again, looking around. Your arm with a half-empty glass extended towards your escort, but before he could get it, you accidentally dropped it; heads turned towards you, but you made a quick escape into the long, deserted hallway. There was a balcony at the end of it, where you sought refuge. Still trying to calm your breathing with distant noises of Coruscant traffic, you clung to the railing so hard your knuckles hurt, but your mind was floating.
You recognised the sound of his boots behind you, but more importantly, you recognised his smell, the unmistakably faint scent that now made your heart race in panic. Most of all, you wanted to turn around, scream, slap him, transfer your pain onto him, but instead, you were still clinging to the stone railing. A small part of you hoped he would just leave, without a word.
Determined, you refused to turn around, even when he stepped closer, the rough white uniform now brushing against the delicate fabric of your dress. You hoped that you were showing a similar stubbornness and resolve he did, but the truth was, you were broken. Tears were rolling down your cheeks slowly, down your neck, but your body stood still, refusing to budge.
“I can’t live without you,” Thrawn whispered, lowering his head so much that his lips were almost touching your exposed shoulder, a few wisps of his hair brushing against your ear.
You relaxed your fists somewhat, but your breathing was still ragged, mind racing all over. Your lips parted slightly, but not to formulate an answer, but to suck even more air in.
“I am here to beg for forgiveness,” his breath was hot, his voice almost irresistible. “Which I don’t think I deserve. And if you never want to see me again, I’ll disappear,” his lips touched your skin, barely, and he allowed himself a soft, intoxicating inhale. Then he straightened up and took a half step back, giving you some space.
You wished you could simply let yourself fall into his arms, but instead, you were struggling to keep your composure. Finally, you turned around to meet his eyes, face unreadable as always. In fact, if he hadn’t spoken those words earlier, you’d assume he was in one of his foul moods again.
Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Thrawn took off one of his gloves and blew on his fingertips. You closed your eyes as he wiped your tears, his thumb caressing your cheekbone.
“I erroneously believed I was protecting you by removing myself from your life.”
There was that calmness in his voice again, his other hand reaching for your healed forearm, the leather cool against your skin as his fingers slid down, before engulfing your hand. “I was growing desperate, even before the messages stopped coming. I hoped I was allowing you to move on…” Thrawn’s voice trailed off, his hand now cupping your face. “I tried to push it all down, but even Chiss have feelings.”
You stood there, melting into his hand. You couldn’t even be angry at his composed self.
“You are forgiven, Thrawn, under one condition,” you breathed out, pressing an open-mouth kiss to his palm, his fingers twitching slightly.
“Anything, ch’eo ch’acah.”
“You are to talk, and to speak, and to communicate.”
Your hands were resting on his chest, your fingertips trailing over the rough fabric. “And you are never to leave like this again,” your voice trembled, threatening to break.
“Why didn’t you write back?” you whispered against his chest, Thrawn kissing your knuckles.
“What right did I have, ch’acah?” He took an uncharacteristically long breath before continuing. “I wasn’t sure you would reply, and I didn’t want to hope. Also, aren’t those two conditions?”
You giggled, finally opening your eyes just as Thrawn’s head dipped lower, his lips brushing yours. He pressed a small peck to your mouth, before properly kissing you the way he had imagined every evening for the last six months. He knew it would never measure up to the ferocity and pure lust of the first one, but he hoped it would show at least some of the devotion he was feeling towards you.
A small moan escaped your lips as you desperately pressed yourself against Thrawn, the only answer he needed.
If you like my writing, all interactions are greatly appreciated -`♡´-
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