After Maghrib
۶ৎ Hijabi!reader x Jason Todd
Summary: After taraweh, you get lost on your way home in Gotham and you're saved by Red Hood. He walks you home from a distance, respecting your boundaries during Ramadan, leading to a quiet, meaningful encounter neither of you will forget.
𖹭.ᐟ Warnings: Islamophobia, verbal harassment, hate speech, attempted assault, brief physical restraint, violence, mentions of muggers, nighttime danger, mild emotional distress.
a/n: English isn't my first language, so if you find any grammar mistakes feel free to tell me! Ramadan Mubarak to all my Muslim girlies. I hope your fasting is light inchallah 🫶🏼🫶🏼
☆ Sequel to this? ☆
The cold night air hit your face the second you got out of the mosque. You shuddered, closing your eyes for a second as you walked past some old women who were waiting outside for their sons to come out from the men’s side.
You hugged your coat tighter over your abaya as you hurried away. Your parents were probably already asleep, since they hadn’t gone with you to pray taraweh, and you didn’t want to be any later.
But it seemed like the universe hated you, because you got lost on your way home. The second you stepped into that dark alley, you found yourself surrounded by a pair of muggers. They looked drugged and a bit drunk, barely able to control their movements.
Being the smart girl you were, you didn’t let yourself look small between them. You held your chin up, refusing to show fear. They laughed cruelly.
“What are you doing? Cosplaying Batman?” the taller one said.
You rolled your eyes. You heard that comment every time you wore your black abaya and hijab, so it barely annoyed you anymore.
“Well, at least I’m not pathetic enough to harass strangers,” you replied confidently.
“You Muslims are disgusting. No wonder no one likes you,” the shorter one said, crossing his arms as he stepped closer, invading your space bit by bit.
Instinctively, you stepped back, preparing yourself in case a fight broke out. “What do you want?”
“Go back to your country, you terrorist. You’re the biggest problem Gotham has. If it wasn’t for people like you, we’d have jobs,” he spat, pointing a finger at you, getting closer and closer. His breath reeked of smoke.
You took advantage of his closeness and tried to fight back, but it was a mistake. The other man grabbed your arms, pinning them in place.
You struggled, but it was useless. Two against one. Your prayer mat was forgotten on the ground the moment they trapped you. It hurt to see it there—dirty, soaked in a puddle. It was your favourite one. A gift from your grandmother.
Before you could think any further, a man with a red helmet appeared, knocking the muggers out in seconds. When it was over, he turned to you. You immediately averted your gaze. It was Ramadan. You had to.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice clearly modulated.
“Yeah… you came just in time,” you murmured, eyes still fixed on the ground.
He didn’t answer. You crouched down to pick up your soaked prayer mat, inspecting it sadly. What used to be a soft red was now a muddy brown.
You sighed, forcing yourself not to cry. “Thank you,” you said quietly, turning to leave.
“Wait—” He grabbed your arm.
You startled, quickly pulling away.
“Please, don’t touch me,” you said calmly. “I’d appreciate it.”
“—Right. Sorry,” he said quickly. “I can walk you home. It’s late, and this is Gotham.”
You hesitated, staring at the ground. You wanted him to come with you. Gotham was dangerous. But if someone saw you with a man during Ramadan… your parents—
“…Okay,” you sighed. “But keep your distance. Don’t walk next to me.”
He looked confused but nodded. “Okay.”
And that’s exactly what he did.
He followed you home from a distance, moving from rooftop to rooftop. You walked calmly, knowing you were protected, even if he wasn’t beside you.
When you reached your front door, you paused before slipping inside silently. You didn’t notice your hijab pin falling to the ground.
Red Hood did.
Before he could step forward to return it, a small, judgmental voice spoke behind him.
“Following a Muslim woman after taraweh. In Ramadan. Bold choice.” Jason turned to see Damian, arms crossed, gaze sharp with disapproval.
“I walked her home. She wanted distance,” Jason sighed.
Damian raised an eyebrow. “From what I saw, you respected it. Barely.”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m not,” Damian replied calmly. “I’m just saying. Following her from the shadows is still following.”
“She was attacked,” Jason snapped. “I wasn’t leaving her alone.” A pause.
“…You didn’t touch her again,” Damian admitted. “And you stopped where she asked you to.”
“That was the point.”
Damian studied him for a moment before turning away. “Good. Then don’t make it something it isn’t.”
He disappeared into the shadows, leaving Jason alone with the quiet street—and the pin still lying on the ground.
Jason crouched and picked it up, turning it over in his hand. He’d seen you wear it since the day he met you. You were clearly attached to it.
A light turned on upstairs.
He looked up. Your room.
He climbed up to return the pin, but froze when he saw you removing your hijab. The curtains hid most of you, just a silhouette, a hint of colour. He looked away immediately. Even if curiosity tugged at him, respect won.
He knocked twice on the window, still facing the other way.
You startled, quickly covering your hair. Your hijab was already in the laundry, so you grabbed your bedsheet, wrapping it around yourself before opening the window slightly.
When you saw him, you sighed. “Do you need something?”
He glanced up briefly, making sure you were covered—and laughed softly when he saw the sheet.
“What are you laughing at?” you whispered sharply. You didn’t want your parents waking up.
He smiled, holding out the pin. “You dropped this.”
You gasped, taking it carefully. “Thank you.”
You placed it on your nightstand, then studied him. You’d seen those cargo pants before. That jacket. That way of moving.
“Do I know you?” you asked.
He stiffened. “No.”
You narrowed your eyes, unconvinced. “…Okay. I need to sleep. I have college tomorrow.”
He nodded, getting the hint and left.
As he climbed back onto the roof, a folded note slipped through your window.
"Stay safe.
—J”
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